#help me why do I always write america this dramatically

[cutecurly-hair]

Hearts Unleashed (Part 1)

Pairing: Nick Nelson x Black!fem!reader

Warning: Fluff, Smut in later chapters, Body Shaming

Words: 2234

Please interact and comment to keep it going. I always love to know what you think.

"What does this mean?" I stared at the piece of paper clutched tightly in my hand. My mom's eyes held an unmistakable unease as she replied, her voice tinged with worry, "This is our plane ticket to England."

Excitement bubbled up inside me as I glanced at the tickets. "We're going to England for a vacation! I had a feeling this year would be different. Do you think we can visit Paris while we're there? I heard it's just a quick train ride away."

My mom chuckled nervously, her laughter quivering. "That's the thing, honey, this isn't just a vacation; it's permanent."

My brows furrowed as I examined the ticket more closely, finally noticing the bold "ONE WAY" printed in the upper right corner. "What do you mean, one way?" Confusion washed over me, and I couldn't believe what I was seeing.

"It means we'll be officially moving to England. I applied for a new job there, and I got it," my mom explained as if it were the most natural thing in the world. She saw the panic in my eyes and hurriedly added, "I understand it's sudden, but I think this will be a great change for us. I've even found a fantastic school with an amazing film program that I know you'll love."

My mind raced. "I don't even know what to say. Why are you telling me this now?" My whole life was here in America, and the idea of packing up and moving to another country was almost too much to bear.

"Honey, I know it's sudden, but they called me today, and they need me to start immediately. That's why we have to leave tomorrow."

"Tomorrow! I don't even have time to pack, let alone say goodbye to my friends. We can't just uproot ourselves from LA and head to England." I looked around our apartment, a cozy haven that had been my home for the past seven years. It felt like things were finally getting back to normal.

I glanced at the ticket again and saw the fine print: Departing from LAX tomorrow at 10:45 am. "I should really start wearing my glasses," I muttered under my breath.

My mom tried to reassure me, "Everything will work out fine. I've hired movers to come during the week and help ship the rest of our stuff. Tonight, all we need to do is pack our personal things and head to the airport first thing in the morning."

I felt like I wanted to argue, but then I saw how tired my mom looked. Her face seemed really worn out, and she had a tired look in her eyes. It made me realize that maybe I hadn't been paying enough attention to how she was feeling lately.

I decided not to bring up my concerns because I didn't want to make things worse. I didn't want to fight with my mom when she already seemed so tired and stressed. So, I chose to keep quiet and let it go for now, even though I still had my worries.

As we stepped off the plane in London, the dark grey skies clouded my vision, and the unfamiliar air filled my lungs. Instantly, I began to miss home. With half of my life packed away in two large suitcases and three duffel bags, this was definitely going to take some getting used to.

"Have your other bags arrived yet?" my mom asked, her eyes darting to the time on her wrist.

"Sorry for making you wait," I replied with a sigh. "When you're packing your whole life into a bag, it tends to take a while." I was far from being in a good mood after only managing to grab a couple of hours of sleep, spending one of them writing an overly dramatic paragraph to my friends about where I'd be for the next few years.

"There's no need to get sassy with me, Y/n," my mom chided. "I'm just worried about the time. I don't want to be late for the shuttle. If we miss this one, the next won't be for another three hours. And I'm sure you don't want to spend that much time at the airport."

Before I could respond, I spotted my color-coded bags moving slowly along the conveyor belt. I collected them and loaded them onto a trolley, then couldn't help but add a mockingly sweet tone, "Now, we can go."

My mom led the way to the shuttle, looking a bit lost in the bustling airport. She approached a stranger for directions, and I listened intently, realizing I needed to get used to the distinct accent. My mom thanked the stranger urgently, and we hurriedly made our way to catch the shuttle, leaving behind the life I'd known in America.

Arriving at our new home in England I couldn't help that there was a mix of excitement and trepidation. I had seen pictures of the place, but it was entirely different to stand in front of it, knowing that it was going to be our home for the foreseeable future. My mom, ever the optimist, had put in tremendous effort to ensure it was the best flat on the block.

As we approached the building, I noticed the quaint charm of the neighborhood. Rows of terraced houses with colorful front doors lined the cobblestone streets. It was a far cry from the sunny, palm tree-lined avenues of Los Angeles that I had called home.

My mom had informed me earlier that her new job had provided relocation money, and she had spent hours researching and visiting potential flats to find one that met all our needs. She was determined to make this transition as smooth as possible for me, especially since I wasn't exactly thrilled about changing schools.

The flat itself was a cozy two-bedroom apartment on the top floor of a charming Victorian building. It had large windows that let in plenty of natural light, and I could see the spires of an old church in the distance. The living room had plush sofas, and I could just imagine the walls being adorned with artwork from home. She had even managed to find a flat with a small balcony where we could enjoy tea on sunny afternoons.

As we stepped inside, I couldn't help but be impressed by how homely it felt, despite being in a foreign country. My room, though smaller than what I was used to, had a window overlooking the quiet street below. I packed some of my posters and photographs from our life in LA, making it feel like a small piece of home.

As I unpacked my belongings, I couldn't help but reflect on the whirlwind of changes that had brought us here. My parents' divorce had been a long and sometimes painful process, but with me finishing up middle school, it seemed like the right time for a fresh start.

In my mom's perspective, this move was a chance for something new and exciting, a way to turn the page on a difficult chapter in our lives. But for me, I felt like I was just along for the ride, caught up in the decisions made by the adults in my life. It wasn't easy to accept that we were starting over in a completely different country.

While I tried to look on the bright side, I couldn't shake the feeling that my mom should have told me about it much sooner. The truth was that I was still deeply hurt and confused.

But as I glanced out the window of our new flat and saw the quaint streets of our new neighborhood, I knew that, in time, I would find my place in this new chapter of our lives. Change might not come overnight, but I was determined to make the most of it and find the silver lining in our fresh start.

—-----

A whole week had passed, and I swear my boredom had reached Olympic levels. Our furniture from LA finally showed up a few days ago, and let me tell you, I became the world champion of room redecorating in record time. But apart from that impressive feat, my life had all the excitement of a cardboard box. School isn't kicking off until Monday, which gives me a gentle nudge that I should probably check out the film program my mom's been raving about. 

Feeling all organized and responsible, I sat down and sketched out the route from our place to the school. It's like a 20-minute walk, which I can totally handle once I get the hang of it. But if I'm feeling a bit lazy (which happens, like, all the time), there's a nifty 10-minute bus ride option. Plus, my mom's still knee-deep in paperwork to send our car overseas, so it's official I'm becoming a bus pro.

Then I checked out the school's website, and the film program doesn't look half bad. They've got this YouTube channel packed with short films that are more interesting than binge-watching cat videos. And here's the real kicker they've got a partnership with Netflix! I mean, seriously, how did they manage to pull that off? They're talking about workshops and internships, and I'm just here thinking,

"Who's the magician that got Netflix on board?" That seriously is impressive.

Looking out of the window, I couldn't believe my luck the sun was actually shining for once! After days of nothing but gray skies, it felt like a small miracle. I was starting to understand that sunny days were a rare commodity in this place. So, I thought, why not make the most of it while I could?

I swapped out my usual outfit for a pair of comfy shorts and a cool graphic tee. In a flash, I was out the door, ready to savor every bit of that precious sunshine.

As I continued my stroll through the neighborhood, I stumbled upon a charming park nestled amidst the houses. The sunlit meadow was dotted with people, and what caught my eye was the number of folks out and about with their dogs. It was becoming evident that this was definitely a big dog-loving community, and the park was their social hub.

I watched as playful pups frolicked, tails wagging with unbridled enthusiasm, and their owners chatted amicably, forming a tight-knit community within the community. It felt heartwarming to witness such camaraderie, and I couldn't help but smile at the sight.

I stumbled upon the perfect photo opportunity, one that would fit perfectly in my collection. I'd forgotten my camera at home, but my trusty phone would have to do. As I aimed to capture the moment, an unexpected collision sent my phone tumbling to the ground.

Before I could get a word out, the other person beat me to the punch. "Oh, I'm so sorry. I wasn't watching where I was going," he said, hastily bending down to retrieve both of our phones. It turned out he had dropped his phone as well.

I felt a flush of embarrassment creeping up. "No, no, it's alright. It was my fault for standing right in the middle of the walkway," I replied, cheeks tinged with a hint of red.

He handed back my phone with an apologetic smile. "Sorry about that. Hopefully, it didn't crack," he said, his own cheeks taking on a shade of pink.

I shook my head, trying to conceal my own embarrassment. "No big deal. You might have done me a favor, actually. It's about time I got a new phone, and this could be the perfect excuse," I quipped, waving my phone playfully. The boy chuckled warmly.

"Thanks for not making me feel awful about it," he admitted, appearing relieved. "I'm Charlie, by the way." He extended his hand, and I shook it with a friendly smile.

I responded, "I'm Y/N. Nice to meet you, Charlie." The friendly atmosphere that had enveloped us earlier seemed to dissipate, leaving an awkward silence in its wake.

Charlie finally broke the silence, his voice tinged with shyness. "Sorry, but I can't help but notice the accent..."

I smiled, realizing his curiosity. "Oh yeah, I'm from America. We just moved here last week, right down the block," I stated, hoping to ease the awkwardness.

Charlie's eyes lit up with excitement. "Right down the block! I live right down that way." I couldn't help but feel my own excitement grow.

"I live where the new flats were built, I think they're called the Avalone Suites or something," I mentioned. Charlie's face instantly lit up with recognition.

"I live right across from you! Everyone around the block has been raving about the new building," he exclaimed,

As Charlie and I walked back to my apartment, he chatted animatedly about the neighborhood, sharing tidbits about the local shops, nearby parks, and the best places to grab a bite. It was clear he was friendly and genuinely excited to have a new neighbor.

During our conversation, we made another delightful discovery – we were both going to the same school. It was a pleasant surprise that eased my earlier concerns about not knowing anyone in this new place.

By the time we reached my apartment building, Charlie had almost talked my ear off, but I didn't mind one bit. With a warm smile, I turned to him and said, "Thanks for walking me back, Charlie. I guess I won't be starting school completely alone."

Charlie grinned in response; his eyes filled with genuine friendliness. "Anytime, Y/N. I'm looking forward to seeing you at school."

We added each other on each other's socials before we parted ways.

Part 2: https://www.tumblr.com/cutecurly-hair/727972531449020416/hearts-unleashed-part-2?source=share

[atom-writings]

The face fam with a partner who has a dangerous job (police officer, journalist, private investigator) which at one point landed them in the hospital, because of either an accident at work or someone tried to get rid of them. Yet despite what happened they openly told them that they plan to immediately go back to work the moment they're. What will they say to that? Like yes it's admirable, but they were just fatally wounded or that someone actively tried to eliminate them.

hetalia face family with a s/o wounded on the job

2.0k words ~ gender neutral mini scenarios

tw: arthur is having a bad time and is gonna make it your problem, swearing, nondetailed hospital settings

a/n: we here at atom-writings (me its just me) say acab. always

America

Your often life-threatening job is part of the reason Alfred was originally so attracted to you. Yes, you're constantly in danger, but that just makes you even more brave

Like a hero!

He usually doesn't stress out about it that much. Even though there's a risk, he trusts you completely. He could never imagine something actually happening to you. That was until he got a call from the hospital.

“Y/N!” Alfred yells from down the hospital hall. In a moment, he slams against the doorway to your hospital room. He's breathing heavily, hair stuck to his pale face.

Before you can even set your book down to greet him, he's rushing to lock the door and close the blinds.

“Alfred?” You ask, trying to get his attention.

He doesn't respond, frantically securing the hospital room so it's impossible for anyone to enter.

”Alfred!“

Your exclamation made him turn his head for a second, “Yeah?”

“What’re you doing?”

“Making sure the room is safe.”

“The room was already safe, honey,” You say as if you were talking to a child.

“You're damn right it is, I got two men outside the room-”

“Wha-”

“That should be more than enough! But- But I gotta be sure, right?“

”Not right. Alfred, slow down, no one is gonna kill me here-“

He pauses his frantic pacing to look at you, his usually playful face turned stony and serious.

”You don't know that-“

”I do know that. It was just one guy, and it might've been an accident anyway,“ You explain calmly, trying to calm his nerves as he nervously cards his fingers through his sweaty hair.

”But what if it isn't?“

”That's the risk I took when I started this job, okay?“

As you sigh at his dramatics, he rushes to your bedside. Gently, he takes your hands in his.

”This shouldn't have happened.“

”It's alright.“

”It's not alright. I don't want you going back to that job. Please,“ He begs, bringing your clasped hands to his forehead as he looks down, ”Please.“

”I can't do that, Alfred.“

”Why not? You- This could happen again! T-Then what? Do I just have to worry about you all day, every day?“

You nod slowly, “You shouldn't worry... but if that's what me continuing this work means, yeah.

He looks away, his eyes becoming shiny.

“Could you ever just abandon your country?” You say softly, and he pauses, closing his eyes finally.

”No.“

”Then you understand what it's like to be as dedicated as I am. I... I have to go back.“

Slowly, he releases his grip on your hands. He sits back in the chair, opening his eyes again while his face contorts in anger.

”Fine.“

”Fine?“

He sighs, rubbing the side of his face, ”I support you.“

”Thank you, Alfred.“

”No... no problem.“

England

Arthur used to be a lot like you, willing to put his life on the line for a greater goal. He was completely comfortable with risking his life over and over again, but not anymore. No, nowadays he doesn't like doing anything too stress-inducing.

Sometimes he wishes you were more like him, but then he sees how much joy it gives you to help others. He couldn't ask you to change that.

But then he doesn't prevent his worries. Humans are so fragile... what if you leave home and never come back? And unfortunately, it wouldn't take too long for his paranoia to be validated.

The only thing good thing that has happened during this entire affair was that the hospital had apparently called Arthur while you were sleeping. However, that small miracle was immediately undone by waking up to him, pacing nervously back and forth in front of your hospital bed.

”Arthur? You're here?” You stutter out, your voice still slurred from the drugs you had been pumped full of.

“My love!“ He rushes to sit next to you, placing a hand over your cheek, ”What happened? What- Who hurt you?“

You couldn't help but flinch away from his sudden touch, ”It was just- just a hazard of the job.“

“You... almost dying... is just a hazard?” He asks in disbelief.

“Yeah, I mean... at least I survived, right?”

You wait for his response, but he just looks down in anger before standing up.

“Not right,” He spits out, walking to the other side of the room, “NOT fucking right! This- You- I can't believe- How could you do this?”

“Excuse me? How could I do this?”

“Yes! Do you know how much- how worried I was?! All night, all week, every day! You only have one life Y/N, and because of your job, some dickhead almost took it away from you! From both of us!” He exclaims, storming closer to the bed in which you lay.

For what feels like minutes, neither of you says anything. You can't do anything but sit there in shock as Arthur stares deep into your eyes, breathing heavily.

“I'm not going to quit.”

”What?“

”I'm not going to quit.“

”You- YOU ALMOST DIED!“ He yells.

”I know,“ You finally look him in the eyes, challenging him to do anything more, “Are you gonna calm down? Because if you don't, I want you to go outside until you do.“

He steps back, burying his face in his hands and exhaling sharply. Without saying a thing, he walks to the door, turning the nob but not leaving.

”I love you. I'm glad you're not dead,“ He spits out. His words are genuine, despite his harsh tone.

”I love you too. Go calm down.“

Without another word, he gives you a thumbs-up and exits the room.

France

Francis is a sissy in many ways. Like, he will barrel into a powerwasher if he's striking, but also he's scared of being on bridges. So, seeing how nerve-wracking your job is really freaks him out. He always asks, why would you do that to yourself?

But whatever your answer is, he still respects you. He couldn't do it, so someone has to, he guesses.

That doesn't stop him from worrying about you though. He trusts you completely, but it's other people he doesn't have any faith in!

You have to constantly reassure him that everything is alright. But, one day, his worst fears came true.

Once you were filled with sleep medication, prescribed by the readily waiting staff, it didn't take long for you to fall asleep. But instead of finally resting, your brain subjected you to horrible, confusing dreams.

At first, there was only a robot. Beeping quietly while eating at a dinner table across from you. But it was quickly joined by a loud, squawking yellow bird on its shoulder. You tried to escape your chair to shut it up, but you only found you couldn't move, even as the bird continued screeching.

Eventually, it became loud enough for you to jolt awake. But the squawking didn't stop, no, it was only clearer now.

Even the beeping of your heart monitor couldn't distract you from the yelling outside your door. Slowly and painfully, you sat up.

Turns out the screeching yellow bird was in reality, the sound of your boyfriend's anguished wailing. You couldn't understand what he was saying through the haze of the drugs, but even without that, his yelling sounded more French than English.

For a second, you caught his eye. He turned back to the doctor, before finally registering that you were looking back at him. In a flash, he ran up to you. He nearly tore out the IV in your arm as he wrapped you in a painful hug.

”Agh- Francis!“ You yelp and he quickly pulls away, looking sheepish.

”I'm sorry- I'm really sorry- Are you ok? Please, tell me you're alright, dearest!“ He sputters out frantically, taking your hands in his.

”I'm ok.”

“Thank GOD! I was so worried, my love,” he presses a soft kiss against the back of your hand, “I heard everything that happened, I can't believe it... what a horrible accident. I'm so sorry that happened.”

You can't help but chuckle at his overly emotional demeanour, “I survived, that's all that matters.”

He smiles, ”Now this... it is not going to happen again, right?“

”Well... I mean- I'm not gonna quit.“

”You're not?“ He looks at you in disbelief.

”No, I still got stuff to do there. Plus, I really... can't imagine my life without that job, Francis.“

He remains quiet for a moment, his face conflicted. Gently, he sets your hands down again and leans closer.

”Well, then let's get you healed up as soon as possible, Dear. We cannot have you missing too much.“

Canada

Oh boy. You're gonna stress out Matthew so much. He's already worried about so much all the time, and now he has to worry about you getting killed on the job too?

It won't take you getting hurt for him to beg for you to not do something so dangerous.

But he'd never push the issue. He knows you're doing something good, and it makes you happy, he just wishes it couldn't take you away from him.

So when it almost does, he doesn't take it very well...

This was perhaps the first time you'd ever woken up before Matthew. Normally, he'd be the one to shake you awake, promising to take care of you that morning. But today, your eyes fluttered open only to see him, his head on your lap, fast asleep.

Slowly and hesitantly, you reached out to pet his soft golden hair... but were interrupted as the motion started him awake. He shot up, hitting his head on your hand and yelping.

”Y/N! You're awake!“ He groggily exclaims, a huge smile plastered onto his face.

”Ye-“ You were promptly cut off by him suddenly rushing forward to hug you, pulling you against his chest tightly, “M-Matthew...”

“Sorry!” He let go, blushing a little, “Oh, uh, and sorry about all... the t-things...“

You were about to ask what he was referring to before you followed his eyes, looking over to your other side to see a pile of stuffed animals, chocolates, and other gift shop items.

Turning back to him, you rhetorically asked, ”You were busy, huh?“

”I'm sorry! I- Well, I couldn't sleep last night... so... that's how I kept myself busy...“

”Wait, when did you fall asleep?“

”I think like... 5?“

”It's 7.“

”Yeah...“ He rubs the back of his neck nervously, looking embarrassed.

”Matthew...“ You coo, but he quickly stops you.

”It's alright. I don't care about that. Are you ok?“

”It... hurts a lot. But, I guess I'm alive... so I'm ok.“

”Oh, you poor thing! I told you you should've quit a long time ago, then this... this nightmare wouldn't have happened!“ He tells you, looking at you comfortingly.

But all you could do was shake your head, ”It was worth it.“

He starts to speak, but you continue, “Yeah, this isn't preferable, but as soon as I'm capable, I'm heading back there.”

“Why... I- Honey, please- Please don't. For your sake...”

”I gotta.“

”You don't have to! I make more than enough to support both of us-“

”I like my job, Matthew.“

He pauses, his eyes becoming glossy. Before he starts to talk again, he wipes his nose, ”Please... I'm so scared...“

”Scared? You're not the one doing the work-”

“I'm scared that next time you won't make it out alive!” He tells you firmly, choking back a sob.

“Matth-”

“I know it makes you happy! But- But is it worth dying for?”

“I won't die. Even if I did... yeah, it was worth it.”

He wipes his eyes, looking up at you with an uncomfortable smile, “I guess... I guess then... then it's fine.”

“I don't want to upset you,” You reach out to intertwine your fingers with his.

“I know. It's... It's gonna be ok.”

“It's gonna be ok.”

[runa-falls]

cat and mouse - 4

summary: every time you try to convince people it was an accident, you immediately get ratted out to the Spider. but really, it was! you don't know why you're being hunted, you didn't even do anything wrong. except, now you did...

warnings: angst, short chapter

w/c: ~1k

a/n: this gif but mig and reader -- i've been busy with a bunch of other fics/blurbs and i've been out of town so i haven't been writing as much. i know i've been neglecting my miguel o'hara fics but i just haven't been very inspired lately

part 1 part 2 part 3

masterlist

----

“This you?” Your eyes squint at the newspaper.

He’s practically shoving it in your face. 

You were once again swept away against your will and taken to the top of a building. This time from the middle of the street as you were making your way to a sandwich shop a block or so from Feli’s. You desperately needed something to subdue that horrible acidic feeling of a hangover. 

It’s already 3 o’clock, but the ache in your bones has only worsened, not to mention your irritated attitude.

You don’t get why Spider-Man couldn’t have just met you at a coffee place. In fact, coffee is just what you need right now. 

“Hm, I don’t think so. I’ve never been to…Mama Jane’s pizzeria.” He flips it over and realizes he turned to the wrong page. 

“Dammit,” He ruffles through the paper then turns it back around. “No, this.”

The headline is hard to miss: ‘Mysterious ‘twin-kissers’ break into the Nueva Bank of America’

You scrunch your nose, “Twin-kissers? They really couldn’t have chosen a better name?”

“What’re you doing blasting holes into buildings?” 

“What do you mean?”

“What do you mean ‘what do you mean’?!” 

“Ok, ok, chill.” Your head is already pounding from the night before, and his impatient tone isn’t helping. “Calm down. Or at least be a little quieter”

“Calm down? You’ve got the whole PDNY after you! You’re lucky they have shit cameras at banks or you’d be toast.” 

You ignore him and walk over to the edge of the roof. You don’t want to look at him right now. Or have him look at you. 

“Please, as if the PDNY has caught anyone without your help.” 

“That’s not the point!”

There’s a ghost of a feeling itching the back of your mind reminding you how you used to have a horrible fear of heights before the accident.

Now, you wouldn’t even care if you fell and smashed into the pavement like a moldy pumpkin. You’d actually welcome it.

Your head already feels like it’s about to implode, so why not speed up the process?

It wouldn’t happen anyway. Spider-Man is with you. He’s too good, he wouldn’t let it happen no matter how many banks you blow up.

You sit down on the ledge, letting your legs hang over the bustling city below. 

He sighs, god he’s dramatic. “Look, Blaze.” That name. That dumbass name that started it all. You look up at him, eyes tired – body tired. “I just want to know why you’re acting like this. We both know this isn’t you.”

Your eyebrows raise in surprise. We? There’s a we?

It’s your turn to sigh. 

You look back down at the street below you, under your idly swinging chucks. Little people living their little lives, always on their way to or from somewhere. With purpose.

Your purpose blew up alongside the reactor. 

“You don’t even know me, Spider-Man.” 

“Miguel.”

“Spider-Man.” You tilt your head upwards and look at the skyline, the world around you. A view you can only see from a certain height. What he’s always looking at. What he’s trying to protect? 

You turn to him and he’s looking at you, standing tall next to your seated body. You hate how he looks down on you even though you put yourself in this position. 

But it’s not just him, it’s everyone. The world’s against you and you have no idea how to fight back. 

“What’s changed?”

“What, you thought this little charade of cat and mouse would go on forever? That I would be your little villain-of-the-week my whole life?” 

He shakes his head then softly says your name. Your actual name. You haven’t heard it since you’ve turned into this…monster. “I mean, what’s changed between us?” 

“There is no us.” You mean to spit it out, lay it on him like acid on paper, push him away, but you only sound defeated. Done. “There was one kiss fueled by adrenaline at the height of a heist – well, an attempted heist – and now there’s this.” You let the words settle into the silence. “A Spider-Man and a girl.” 

You hear him approach and take a seat next to you, but you don’t look over. His skin-tight blue and red suit contrasts sharply with the pale rust of the brick, and even more, the dirty grey of the pavement down below. 

“I don’t believe that.”

You scoff, staring at the cars, taxis, and buses stopped at a traffic light. It’s easier to look at the red light than his concerned crimson eyes. You’re scared you’ll betray yourself and get lost in them again. Lost in him. Because you know this time, you won’t hold back. 

 “You don’t have to believe anything. It is what it is.” 

“No, see I don’t get it. You were never a villain, barely even a criminal, but because of some words, some stupid narrative, you’re trying to be someone you aren’t.  Because it’s the easy way out.”

Your head snaps to him, “Easy? You think this is easy?”

“I think you’re letting yourself get pulled into a life that isn’t yours. I-I’m sca–...concerned you’re going to lose yourself.” That I’m going to lose you.

It sits unspoken in the air and fizzes against your skin. You decide it’s… uncomfortable.  

You think about how you got to this point. The fear and betrayal that had you bobbing for apples in that vat of fluid, the instant rejection you received from the city once you got out, the push and pull that you’ve had with Miguel, and the first real friend you’ve ever had, Feli. 

She’s a criminal, that’s for sure, but she’s always had your back. Helped you to embrace the new you. How could you deceive her and take what was once hers? 

You get up without another word. There’s nothing to decide, you already know what you need to do. You make your way to the door leading to the stairs. 

“Blaze…”

“We don’t owe each other anything, Spider-Man. Just get out of my way and watch the city burn.”

[popcornforone]

More Than Friends

A Dieter Bravo fan fic

Happy birthday to me. Yes today (Halloween) is my birthday & I wanted to write a fic for me about something super romantic that could happen on your birthday. I had a similar dream to this a while ago so I thought Dieter would be the best person to write this for.

Synopsis: You are in America with your sister celebrating your birthday, your best friend & flat mate Dieter is in England working. But he wants to give you the best birthday present ever, no matter how crazy it is.

Word count:3600

Warnings: this is mainly fluff & romantic, but probably best for DONOT READ IF YOU ARE UNDER 18! Secretly fancying your best friends. Swearing, drinking, a little bit of being over dramatic, thinking of what could be ideas of fantasies, death. It is mainly fluffy tho so

Thanks as always for the read peoples. I hope you enjoy this. All feed back is welcome.

OOOH & HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO ME

“Jen” you shout as you run to your sister at the airport. You may now both live in the same country once again, but finding the time to see her is hard. You’re now finally getting praise for your acting & have 2 weeks off before you’re needed for the next part you will be appearing in on this fabulous HBO reboot. Your sister isn’t exactly quiet. Her 5 month old Dylan keeps her busy, she’s not looking forward to going back to work soon from her maternity leave. Her husband Lance is already taking advantage of her being home more than she usually is. So this next week with your sister is going to be brilliant. Just going back to being you, quirky & weird & normal, not the famous actor the world thinks they know.

The hug the two of you have is special. It’s not been long since you saw her, your grandads funeral 2months ago was the last time you saw her back in England. But it was at this event when you realised you wanted to be more than friends with your most famous best friend. He might have a drinking problem, take a few too many drugs, & be a party boy, but when Dieter Bravo turned up at your Grandads funeral it melted your heart. He’d met him 3 times in the 5 years you’ve known Dieter & your grandad always thought he was a very “eccentric character”. But it was as you saw him just standing around the back, not mingling before the hearse arrived that you cried. His hug & the stroke of the back of your hair, soothed you instantly.

“It okay, I’m here, I couldn’t have you go through this alone” Dieter had whispered as you held onto him.

“Shouldn’t you be…”

“Yes but when it’s a family emergency they said I could go & you are like a sister to me…” straight away put in the friend zone again by your crush. You’re used to it though, it no longer affects you. “& you live with me so…” you had smiled at that comment. When you worked on that Tv show that changed your life, Dieter had a role as a recurring guest character, you’d met him before on another job & he helped you calm your nerves. So when there was damage to your hotel in a fire, he was insistent you moved in with him. He had a girlfriend & a boyfriend at the time & you were in a relationship too, so it just worked. No one suspected a thing & knew you were just colleagues & friends. You then just never moved out. You left him money to pay bill & whenever he worked in the uk he always used your place if he was near. You’d always fancied Dieter, who wouldn’t fall for those eyes & that charisma, there was a reason why when he asked anyone do you want to have sex with me they answered yes. He’s just never asked you & one of you has always been in a relationship until the day after the funeral, when your boyfriend at the time saw how you & Dieter we’re with each other & told you to go & find happiness the next day. unfortunately you didn’t act on your feelings with Dieter, knowing he’s in London & your in New York at the moment, it needed to be the right time to act on this & not just jump straight back in.

As you arrive at your sister place & put your things in her guest room your phone rings, so you answer it.

“Ello”

“Babes” your face lights up straight away. Dieter always mocks your English accent & how you call people babes. Your sister sees your eyes ignite in desire so you pull the door to in your guest room & sit on the bed.

“Diets… you ok?”

“No it’s bloody raining again”

“Thats the London autumn for you”

“I know I know, but you never said it was this unpredictable the weather here”

“I’m English it’s normal” he laughs down the phone at that.

“So what making you call at 7pm, did your date not arrive for dinner?” You mock. If Dieter doesn’t have at least one casual date a week, he gets grumpy.

“Ha no, night shoot tonight… we’re actually nearly done in scheduale for once here”

“Well that’s a first”

“So what are your birthday plans? where’s the party at?” He asks enthusiastically. Your stumped. You have no party planned. You know you’re going to be in England for Christmas this year, & all your friends came over at the end of September to see you in New York so your plan is actually quite mundane. Your birthday is also Halloween.

“I’m in Seattle”

“Seattle?”

“Is there an echo?” You both giggle. “I’m seeing Jen, Lance & little Dylan this week, family bonding, you know, I have no idea what they have planned for my birthday.” It’s true you don’t know what your sisters going to do. Your birthday is a Tuesday this year & it’s currently the Friday before.

“Awww how old is Dylan now”

“Not old enough for you to take out drinking”

“Damn it, I wanted to use him as a girl magnet, the ladies love the caring dad side”

“I think they just would like a night with a movie star Diets” you smile down the phone which he can sense down his end.

“Well I’d best rearrange your gift to your sister address then”

“You didn’t have to get me anything”

“I know but after your year which to say has been crazy is an understatement, you need a treat”

“Well thank you in advanced” you pause & so does Dieter you both sigh down the phone. A million words that you want to tell him about how you feel & that you’d just like to live a normal life with Dieter somewhere away from the rest of the world. No fame, no money, no press, just you & Dieter.

“Hey…” he says

“Yes…”

“I…” & then you hear someone shout in the background & him reply.”sorry I’m Needed back on set, I’ll give you a call on your birthday okay”

“Don’t go being a twat Diets” you say quoting hot fuzz a film you both love to laugh to.

“I wouldn’t give you the satisfaction babes” & he hangs up. You secretly wish Dieter would more than satisfy you.

As Dieter hangs up the phone he automatically texts your sister to plan a birthday you won’t forget in a long time, to make sure she is okay & that this can go with her plans she may already have in place.

You smile to yourself as you get things out of your bag. Just hearing his voice makes you feel so much better, not that you were feeling down at all. As you leave the guest bedroom a few minutes later your sister is standing there judging you. Before you speak she cuts you off.

“I heard enough, I know that tone,” she looks down at her phone & see a message from Dieter.

“I just live with the guy, we’re friends, we…” but you see your sisters face & you do a little smirk. “I don’t just want to be another broken-hearted girl without him, so I will settle for what I have.”

“Are you happy with that?” She asks. You pause unsure if you are, but you are saved by Dylan crying. “I’ll get an answer from you one day sis”

*

Dieter after texting your sister goes to set. Ever the professions for his work, making sure everyone’s okay, down to the riggers & runners. He has the playboy life style in the press but working Dieter is a consummate professional. He does his last shoot for today & heads back to his trailer to get changed. He shuts the door & puts his phone on the dressing table. The mirror he sighs & stares into has photos of him on the shoot & in make up for reference’s & a few family photos too. But noone knows there’s a hidden one beneath 3 of them. His day has been long but he can stay here another 3 minutes to look at the happiest picture he has of the two of you. The one taken After the premier of the Tv show that made you a global star, the after party which everyone in the world was at. You had a boyfriend at the time, but that didn’t stop the two of you from dancing together that night as friends. The theme tune to the show was a custom song written by Ed Sheeran which was slow. Dieter remember how you trembled as he wrapped his arms around you & you both sang the lyrics outloud as Ed performed for actors, crew, press & vips of the event. This was a photo the in show photographer got. Neither of you are looking at the camera as he holds you. Your eyes are shut as you sing out loud one band in the air waving the other holding onto Dieters & his eyes are dazzling. It’s at this exact moment when Dieter realised he wanted you to be in his life more than a friend but this was 18 months ago & since then you’ve both had plenty of work, drama & heart breaks to stop either of you acting on any of this.

Dieter sighs at the photo & then runs his hands through his thick luscious hair.

“I must be fucking crazy”

He leans & takes his phone & calls his agent.

“Mel, got a second?” She mumbles something back “no it’s not that kind of emergency, I need you to sort something out for me quickly, whatever it costs & whoever this upsets, please explain this needs to be done”…

*

Tuesday arrives. You face time your parents while you & your sister have breakfast. You’ve decided to go on a lake walk & then lunch for your birthday with Jen, a nice chilled fun day. No worrys, no distractions. Just some nice Seattle air, if you can call it that in any major city just being you. Lance has promised to pick you all up some Chinese food for tonight. You’ve put Prosecco in the fridge already. It’s low-key but it’s what you want for your birthday celebration. No more costume parties taking over your special day.

Jens opened the Prosecco & you’re both sitting at the breakfast bar waiting for Lance to return with so much crispy chilli beef & lemon chicken that you will all go into a food coma.

“Dylan, what’s this?” You say in your child friendly voice. He laughs back as you play with Mr Ducky his favourite teddy bear & do the quack noises. His face is amazed & he keeps trying to clap his hand as he sits on the counter.

“No no” Jen screeches as you quickly move the fizz away.

“You mummy Dylan doesn’t want you to end up like your aunty, & it’s a shame your American, no drinking until your 21”

“Ha” Jen laughs “if he is anything like you & me he’ll have hangovers at 14”

“Ahh those were the days” you both joke. Your parents were always very liberal with letting you drink. They much rather you did it in front of them then sneak out & did it.

“Oooh Dylan” you then get a sniff of him. Jen smells it too.

“Did you do a number two” Dylan cackles & the two of you laugh when the front door goes. “Go let Lance in” Jen asks as she grabs the nappy bag.

“Oooh so demanding” you say sarcastically back. You put your glass of Prosecco down & head for the door. There’s a sign on it that says help yourself to the sweets in the box for trick or treaters. You open the door & then freeze on the spot.

Dieter is here.

Dieter is in Seattle, not London.

Dieter is at your sisters front door, in the drizzle, as the autumnal leaves fall, on your birthday.

Dieter is here.

“D…D…Di…Dieter?” Your pitch is all over the place, you’re sure your heart has stopped beating. Your eyes meet. Those dark seductive caramels stare at your trembling lips. He’s put a comb through his hair. It’s still a mess as he’s clearly taken his hoodie down as he rang the bell, his hand ruffling through it, that’s his little adorable tick that you cherish each time he does it when he’s nervous.

“Hi”

“Hi”

“Hi”

“Hi”

Neither of you can say anything else. You then decide to step outside & leave the door on the latch & stand with him on the porch.

“What are you doing here?” You eventually after a few minutes of silence trying to work out what you’re both going to say to each other. Everything he had prepped on the flight over & practiced in the hotel room before he left to get here, have all gone out of the window. He’s nervous, this all seemed so much easier in his head over the last few days, but he’s now reduced to just being a man. But it’s the only man you will ever need.

“To wish you a happy birthday I guess… erm so happy birthday…” he’s rubbing his beard as he says it & shifts awkwardly.

“Okay you said that now… thanks… bye” you joke & then so see his face drop. “You’ve still not quite understood after all these years, my sarcasm haven’t you Diets?”

“No, almost, you & your family also have your own unique language” he smiles. The smile is warm & friendly.

“I can’t believe you are actually here to wish me a happy birthday” You beam back at him & push your own messy hair away from your face.

“Couldnt not see you babes” he being genuine in his response, even his mockery of your accent seems adorable.

“I just can’t believe you flew thousands of miles to come & wish me a happy birthday, unless your here for a…”

“No just you, no other work” he interrupts. His puppy dog eyes more loyal & huge than ever. “You deserve the world & I wanted to see how happy you were on your special day”

You fling your arms around Dieters neck & hug him. It catches him by surprise to start with, but the way he holds you a few second later & the sigh that escapes his mouth just confirms he did the right thing. His hand goes across you shoulders & you start to feel weak at his touch. A hug that can solve all the worlds problems.

“You must really like me to fly half way around the world babes…” you whisper into his ear.

“Well actually…” Dieter breaks the hug & drops to one knee. “I think I more than like you” he holds your left hand. “Marry Me?”

You’re in shock, you knew you wanted more than just friendship with Dieter but he’s not even kissed you yet.

“Dieter!? I don’t know what to say”

“Yes?” He winks as his hand strokes yours.

“No”

“No?”

“No… well” you don’t want to turn him down but you want to show him how crazy this is. “Dieter we might be close friends who live with each other but you’ve not even kissed me yet, let alone asked me out or…” you’re interrupted. Dieter is on his feet again, his hand trailing around your face. Intense eye contact & then the most loved filled kiss of either of your lives. His lips feel smooth, the way his moustache tickles makes you smile which make him deepen the kiss. His hands move through your hair & waistline, both yours are on his shoulders. It was probably all of 5second the kiss but time stood still & it felt so fabulous & just right.

“Okay”he says breathily as you break this kiss”… now will you…”

“No” you say before going back in for another kiss, allowing his tongue to explore. You know how good his tongue is, you’ve heard men & women leave his bedroom in your New York apartment thanking him for the oral experience of their life.

“Why not, I love you?” Dieter says as he goes in for the next kiss, you take a step back though, this is all too much to process for you.

“Dieter, I like you, a lot, & in a similar way to you, & yes we don’t have to do the whole getting to know each other but, I’d like to go out for dinner, take this part of our relationship slow, so we both understand each others needs & pleasures. Does that make sense, because once I am happy with that, you can ask me again & I’ll say yes” Dieter eyes widen, it’s not an instant yes, but he knew he’d get one, be it in a day, week, month or year, he’d give you all the time in the world.

“So that’s a one day then, it’s not a no?”

“Yes”

You both stand there & giggle & hug each other before you kiss his lips quickly & shortly. A simple peck but you now know these lips will soon be all over each inch of your body.

“I’d like to take you out to dinner tomorrow, if that’s okay, if we are going to do this your way, I’d then at least like one date”

“Dieter you should no I don’t put out on a first…”

“Bollocks you don’t put out on a first date, I’ve heard you get with guys on nights out or…”

“You gonna let me finish” you say a bit forcefully which makes him twitch in his trousers. It’s always aroused him when a woman knows what she wants & is firm about it. “If you’d let me carry on, I’d have said but with you Diets, your more than an exception to my rule, I mean it’s taken us years to get to this point” your blushing as you say this. “If dinner goes well tomorrow, I might just have to come back to your hotel room” Dieter is now also turning red. Often especially for the last year, has he thought about how he would pleasure you, if your cunt is to die for. He wants to experience everything with you & wants to make you feel special & sexy.

“Well if that’s the case, I’ll upgrade my room”He laughs.

“Why baby, all we need is a bed” he raises an eyebrow at you.

“No baby, if you consent tomorrow, you get the full Dieter experience, I want to treat you like the princess you are, such a good girl for waiting for me to get my act together. To have the courage to tell you how I feel” his hands tremble as they hold yours. He really is in love with you. “Anyone else whod have spoken to me like you have in the last 10 minutes or for the last few years if I’m honest I’d not care, but you baby, I never want to lose you. I want us to be forever. I want to organise our work & lives so we’re in the same continent at the same time & I really just want you to be happy, that’s all I’ve ever wanted. Just to see you smile once a day.”

“That’s all I ever aspire to Diets…” you take a deep breath. “I want you to be happy no matter what you do, & if that means I’m just a friend, a room mate, a lover or more, I’ve always been happy to wait because just 5minutes with you feels like a life time of memories” both yours & Dieters eyes fill as you speak. He knows you love him. & so do you. But you just want to wait. Those 3 little words will fall from your lips soon. But your lips are once again preoccupied with Dieters, making out as the moon rises behind the autumnal leaves.

You phone buzzes & causes the two of you to break from the kiss. It’s your sister.

*when you two are done renewing your wedding vows before you even agree to them, the Chinese is getting cold.

“Lying bitch”you say & Dieter smiles.

“Who”

“Jen, she said…”you look at Dieter”you already knew the Chinese was here didn’t you?” You playfully hit Dieter & he scoops you up & carries you inside as you scream in hysterics. “Diets put me down”

“Never” you kick & laugh & Jen & Lance roll their eyes as he brings you back in. He puts you down. “I’m never letting go of you again babes” He kisses you & then apologised to Jen & Lance.

“Well it took you long enough to ask her Dieter” Lance says.

“We can’t all meet the love of our lives at the first day of college can we, sometimes it just takes a little time to realise what you want in life” Dieter says as you realise that enough food was ordered for all four of us.

“I know what I want Diets…” you mumble into another sweet kiss, his lips now feel like they have been yours for years. “I want you” a small sigh happens & then you both say in unison. “& some chilly beef” you both laugh & sit down to eat with your family, with Dieter now a firm addition to to your life as more than just a friend.

[ave09]

Ooh could you please write a fic in which President James Marshall (from Air Force One) goes on a romantic date with wife!Reader (I want some romance with James Marshall so baaaaaaaad)?

i literally watched this movie for the first time tonight! it was live on hulu so i thought why not? IT WAS SUCH A GOOD FILM OML! so i wrote this immediately after lmao i absolutely loved him in this movie.

night out

james marshall (air force one) x wife!reader

“darling?” 

“yes, beautiful?” 

“where exactly are you taking me?” you asked, unable to see due to the blindfold around your head. “it’s a surprise, i told you.”

“i don’t like surprises.” you stated coolly. you could practically see the smirk on his face as he replied, “you’ll like this one, i promise.” 

“we’ll see about that.” you replied, receiving a chuckle from your husband. you were teasing him, you’d love it either way. you and james hardly had any time for one another. he was the president of the united states after all. 

but today, he’d planned something special. no paparazzi, no secret service, at least not in the vehicle with you, they’d be waiting outside wherever your husband was taking you. no president and his first lady. just a husband and wife spending a romantic evening together. 

the drive was long, but it seemed to go quicker then expected. suddenly, it became bumpy and rough, you’d assumed that you’d gone off-road. then the car came to a slow, signaling that you’d arrived. 

“here we are.” 

you heard james unbuckle his seatbelt, he undid yours as well considering you were currently blind. the car door opened and closed, you could hear his footsteps outside the vehicle. your door then opened, you felt a large hand envelope your own, “alright, i’m gonna help you out of the car now.” 

“okay.” he took your other hand, pulling you out of the vehicle, his hands flying to your waist as you stumbled slightly in your heels. 

“careful there sweetheart.” 

“i wouldn’t have this problem if i wasn’t blindfolded!” you exclaimed jokingly, leaning against your husband for support. his chest vibrated as he let out a deep chuckle, “well just a few more steps and you can take it off.” 

he was true to his word. he held you close as the two of you walked a few steps before he halted. “are you ready for your surprise?” 

you nodded. 

you felt his slender fingers move behind your head, untying the thick fabric. he held it for a moment, your vision still covered, “okay, three-“

“always with the dramatics!” you laughed, “just take the damn thing off.” “let me have my fun!” he scolded playfully, laughing along with you.

“fine, just keep counting.”  

“three, two, and… one.” 

the blindfold was lifted, your vision returned. and then you saw it. 

a beautiful serene lake day before you, and you suddenly knew exactly where you were. you glanced behind you at your husband, “is this what i think it is?” 

he beamed, nodding, “it is.” 

it where you and him had your first date, all those years ago when he was just a young soldier. a smile spread across your lips, “oh james, this is amazing, we haven’t been here since-“

“it’s been a long time.” he replied. so much had changed since that night, but you were happy to know that a sliver of the old life with him remained. 

“i love it james, this truly is an amazing surprise.” you said, feeling the man’s arms hug your waist, bringing you closer to him. “well don’t think that this is only reason i brought you here, to just look and reminisce.. we also did something that night, remember.” 

of course you remembered. it was the only thing running through your mind, and you were praying that he wouldn’t do what you believed he was going to do. 

but when he stepped away from you, his hands flying to the buttons of his shirt you knew. 

“james, no.” 

“come on, beautiful.”

you shook your head, chuckling lightly, “james, no! how would america react if they knew the president and first lady were skinny dipping!”

james already had lost his shirt, “come on, darling, let’s been crazy teens again, just for one night.” 

you bit your lip anxiously, “and what of the secret service?” 

“they’re down the road, you don’t have to worry about anything.” he assured, sending you a wink. you sighed deeply, unable to believe you were truly about to do this, before you slowly began to strip of your clothes. by the time you were done, james was already in the water.

he gazed at you as though you were the most precious thing in the world. “come on in, the water’s fine.” 

that was an absolute lie, you entered the lake only to find that the water was freezing! “holy shit!” you exclaimed tensing up as goosebumps kissed your skin. james swam towards you, his arms encircling your body, “i’ll keep you warm.” he whispered, pecking your temple. you smiled softly, gazing up at him, “thank you. for this james, it’s really nice.” 

“anything for my lovely lady.” 

“i love you.” you said, kissing his lips softly. “i love you more.” he kissed you again, shaking his head lightly, “impossible, beautiful.” 

[goldenstarprincesses]

Henlo! You rebloged my post about France in fanfiction and I wanted to reply to it because I found what you said interesting, but because you used just tags would be goofy to reblog it again so I am sending an ask!

I agree about the cannon not helping, the thing is France got better in the cannon, he is more interesting now. I am not very into Prussia so I don't remember if he got better in later parts. But this thing about him being the worst in PruCan fanfic isn't something I noticed in Brazilian Fanfics or maybe I just don't remember lol

I wrote my post at 1 AM and now I stopped to think about what annoys me about how simple and awful Francis' characterization is and I noticed that it simply doesn't have a reason. When I was writing my fic, I wanted to make him bad in a European kind of way, he is France, France really did a lot of shit, he is kind of goofy and useless now? Yes, but that wasn't the case in the Early Modern era.

I also never saw no one exploring his sexuality. Why is Francis overly sexual? Why is he so dramatic? Why is he always trying to get in someone's pants? Real people have reasons to act overly sexual, they aren't just born this way, but WHY I NEVER SEE NO ONE ASKING THOSE QUESTIONS??

Thank you for rebloguing my post and confirming I wasn't just seeing things lol

Hiii! First, I adore your blog. Thank you for introducing me to the world of TurkFra. My eyes have been opened and my mind widened.

I almost think the fandom needed to go through the "dark times" or "dark age" of character interpretation to get where we are now. I know there was for sure a shift happing when I dipped out of the fandom in 2016ish. And when I started occasionally reading fanfics again during lockdown I was blown away with the shifts regarding the characterization of nearly all the characters.

Totally agree with you 100% about interpreting a character like France in a way where he is bad shit person, because of the actual actions of France. Imo its really important to include things like that into every nations characterizing when engaging in more "real life inspired" characterization. Almost have to wonder if the rise in popularity of historical hetalia has had anything to do with this change. While it was sorta a thing in the early years of the fandom, it didn't really seem to have much of a collective following and community. And now it seems that characters of empires/colonists like France/England/America/Russia etc. have shifted away from being written to have very goofy and comically negative traits more in-line with the 2008-2012ish canon to having their negative traits rooted more in the real-life negative habits or traits of the real world nations. I'd also wonder if the average age in the fandom has gone up which has helped characters simply be better developed.

The "bad touch trio" was super common back in the day. It was France/Prussia/Spain. Pretty much the entire characterization for them all ended up being sex addicts who went around well, SA or SH other nations. That mixed with the very silly "everything is based on basic national stereotypes" vibe of early canon I think just made i so a character like France ("nation of love"/the idea that the French are much more sexually liberated then the English or Americans) was very one-sided even when other charters were getting a little bit better of treatment. I also always felt like France was never as popular in the American/English fandom as American and England. So he (and often Canada) would sorta just thrown into things without much development character-wise.

You bring up so many good points!!! legit I have always thought about things like this.

[icebear4president]

Author’s note: This is just a little self-indulgent story, because England and America are so fun to write about together.

“Alfred, will you please just unload the dishwasher?”

Alfred barely looked up from his phone at Arthur’s voice, and a small twitch of his lip was the only indication he heard him. He wasn’t ignoring his pseudo-father figure per-say, but he wasn’t exactly in the mood to answer him either. While their monthly dinners weren’t anything new, there always seemed to be something one of them would pick a fight about.

And while Alfred tried not to get too irritated with Arthur, he wasn’t about to let the snide remark about his hard-earn space collection slide. Besides, he always cooked the meals, so Arthur can’t complain about being put on dish duty.

“Alfred, you are acting like a child.”

Rolling his eyes, Alfred stuffed his phone into pocket, and leaned on the counter arms crossed. Whatever, if Arthur wanted to annoy him, than he’ll annoy him back. So why not make Arthur extremely uncomfortable with his request. Not that he desperately wanted to hear the words or anything.

“Sure! If you say you’re immensely proud of me, that is.”

Arthur’s excessive scrubbing faltered for a second. “What?”

“If I unload the dishwasher, will you say that you are immensely proud of me?”

“No-why would I do that?”

Alfred grinned at how uncomfortable he was making the other man. Honestly, was it really that hard to answer the question? Apparently he didn’t want help with the dishes as much as he said he did.

“Because I’m America. I always demand payment in some form, and this is what I want. I’ll even unload the dishes first, but after you have to say your immensely proud of me.”

Arthur hesitated, frowning at the soapy water. He just wanted help, was that too much to ask without being subjected to Alfred’s nonsense. “Are you sure you don’t want money or food? Maybe buy one of those gold kiddy coins you like?”

‘Collectible and vintage coins,’ Alfred wanted to say, but bit his tongue and smiled instead. “Nope,” he said, popping the ‘p’, “I want you to say you’re proud of me.”

“Why in the world do you suddenly care if I’m proud of you or not, you never did before,” Arthur asked. “Look, I would unload the dishwasher myself, but I’m going to hand wash them first. It’s only fair.”

What was with this guy and dodging answers. Good thing Alfred was just as stubborn as him, as well as persistent. “I demand payment, and this is the payment I want. Come on dude, they’re just words. It’s not like I’m asking for something unreasonable here.”

Arthur sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. He was getting a headache from this whole exchange. “Alfred, if you’re going to unload the dishwasher, than unload the dishwasher. If you don’t want to, than don’t. It’s not that big of a deal.”

Alfred leaned forward, desperate now. He was beginning to think this wasn’t about dishes anymore, not that he’ll think too hard on that. He just wants Arthur to say the words. Hell, even if he didn’t even mean it or if he says it sarcastically he’ll take it.

This was turning out not to be as fun as he thought it was.

“But I WILL unload the dishwasher. I’ll wash the dishes too….you just need to say you’re proud of me. Not even immensely or anything, just that you’re proud of me.”

Wiping his hands, Arthur finally turned to face Alfred. “But what have you done to warrant me to say that? Proud of you for what? Washing the dishes and putting them away? Like every person on this planet does,” he asked, genuinely curious for the answer.

“No, just in general.”

Arthur sighed, returning to his task. This back and forth was tiring him out. “I’m not going to say I’m proud of you for just being here.”

Alfred clutched his chest, feigning hurt. “After all I’ve done to get to this point, and you still aren’t proud? You wound me, what even is the point of life if my big brother can find no good in me,” he said, swooning dramatically. Of course, none of his words meant anything, he didn’t actually care what England or any of the others thought of him after all. Definitely not.

“This again. Why do you get existential and crap when you’re upset?”

“I’m not upset. Why are you getting upset?” Alfred countered. “They’re just words, they don’t actually mean anything. I’ll unload the dishwasher, plus do the dishes if you say them.”

Arthur sighed again, and shook his head. “Evidently they mean something to you. And no, I’m not going to say them. Now, if you’re not going to help, than go do something else productive,” he said, turning his back to Alfred and signaling the conversation to a close.

Alfred stared after him a while, before angrily digging out his phone again. He didn’t care, he shouldn’t care. It was a joke and he admits he pushed it more than he should’ve. Maybe it hurt a little, or maybe a lot, but it was fine. He didn’t need England’s validation, he was a big boy and he would be fine. He would just go watch tv, or cry in his pillow, and forget all about it. “Fine, whatever,” he finally said, with a dismissive wave.

After a few moments, Arthur turned to check that Alfred was gone before he spoke again. “I am proud of you. Immensely. I thought you would have known that already,” he said, voice echoing in the room.

[thehigh-waytohell]

What was the hardest chapter to write? And why?

Likewise what character do you find the most difficult to write?

This is an interesting question because "hardest" could mean a lot of different things but my first thought was most difficult to get words on the page. I will tie between America's Suitehearts (parts 1 and 2) and Andy's arc in Believers Never Die? If y'all were around for Folie and noticed my slowing down DRAMATICALLY it's because my mental illinois got a lot worse around the time of the first covid 19 lockdown and then just.... kept going down and down and down till early 2022. So the end of folie and beginning of BND for me were just me desperately trying to write through an extreme funk and desperately wanting both to create and to care about creating. I /i/think/i/ the end of folie was harder, but full disclosure, I often don't remember the depths of my depressive states, and that was the longest one I've ever had! Every time I go to reference one of those chapters I have to reread it and it's kind of like reading a stranger's work. (sorry for the tmi)

For character - Joe was initially the hardest to write because a: i had the least of his backstory figured out and b: I didn't always get the quiet part of his character? I always had a plan for what he would do but puzzling out the why of it, even if that didn't make it onto the page, was harder with him than the others. He was definitely a character I grew into more and now he is my second favorite to write and I have given him some of my own personal flaws so in that sense me and character Joe have bonded :D

Now the hardest character to write from is Pete. Not because I don't get him but because, when I get in his head, his thoughts are very big and scattered and hard to pin down into traditional narrative structure. Switching up the timeline with his arc in BND was the only thing that made it POSSIBLE to write such a big chunk in his head.

(In case it wasn't painfully obvious, Patrick has always been my favorite to write from. I can't help the bias)

[magicalink]

Will Assebled love ever get a final chapter??

I hope so, anon, I hope so.

To be completely honest, even if I still haven't decided how the story is gonna end, I have lots of ideas for the middle of the story. Lots of school drama tbh. The problem lies in the early chapters I'm struggling to finish. I'm working on the next chapter but it's still just halfway through. I have some ideas but I'm facing a lot of indecision about which scenes to keep and which to discard. And ocd. Ocd is driving me crazy when it comes to writing, it's my grestest obstacle and the one I'm trying to fight this year.

Can't promise next Assembled Love chapter will he ready next month but I'm ACTUALLY working on a request that is a 'what if' from that AU. Smut ofc. Like, I actually WROTE today. Crazy ik. So expect next post to be either that or another one of the ones I've been promising to post, like 'Gynecologist Albedo' (joke title), Butler Scara or Xiao wanting to have a child with reader, for example. The long fic that has the most possibilites of being updated soon is Catboys in the house. The next long chapter that follows the chronologic story with Xiao finally joining the household is just started, but I have lots of episodic content like usual. Headcanons, smut, smutty headcanons, yk, the usual.

Anyway, as I said my main problem with these early chapters of Assembled Love are indecision and it has to do with this problem: Ik in the chapter list I listed the next chapter as 'Perfect first time' implying that thr seggs is gonna happen next chap. But honestly I think this needs a bit more slowburn. Not so slow, just a bit more of interaction and situations to make the relationship between Scara and Y/N make more sense and be more enjoyable. So, what do you as readers think about this?

The second reason I don't update is toxic perfectionism. It kicks in when I care a lot about a story. At first Assembled Love was a funny side project I wrote randomly without stressing or putting much effort into it while I waited for inspo for Better Find Husbandos, the fic that was most important to me back then. So the words flowed easily and I posted a lot of chapters in a row. When I became invested in the story and really wanted to convey my exact views of the stories through the writing thr block and the toxic perfectionism came in. That's why I'm more prone to posting standalone oneshots instead of adding chapters to the AUs I care so much about, because I don't pressure myself that it has to perfectly convey my ideas about the story.

This toxic perfectionism is something I wanna tackle aggressively this year because honestly:

The not pefect fic you actually wrote will always be better than the perfect fic you never dared to try write.

Gotta ingrain that phrase in my brain permanently. Cuz I started writing to reread and enjoy my own fics but if I don't dare write I won't have anything to read. And that I read can always be edited and rewritten. Seeing authors rewrite their older fics just to make them waaay better years after encourages me to just write and have fun knowing that I can always try again and do it better next time. So that helps.

Let's not think about Assembled Love's final chapter when it's sitting just at chapter 4 and focus on the spin off that is on the making and idk, the next 3 chapters: I'm planning to add more characters with their dramas, Childe, Mona and Venti being the main ones. I want Assembled Love to be a dramatic romantic comedy in a last year of highschool setting, with teenagers struggling to become adults and debating between following what family and society expects from them and finding out what they really want to do with their lives. I want to add tropes of those movies from the United States I grew up watching and give them a twist of the dramatic telenovelas from Latin America, where I live. Will I be able to deliver? We'll see. If I don't I can always rewrite it.

That long chunk of text being said, thanks for sending me asks that make me reflect on my writing and my struggle to write cuz it helps me come up with ways of tackling it and refinding my passion about writing. I answered this one first cuz it's the latest I got but I have lots more I'm gonna answer cuz thst's one of my 2024 new year resolutions that are on my blog. So feel free to send more mail with any doubts you have or even with imagines or things you'd like to see on my stories cuz it never fails to give me inspo!

[paranormalrealism]

Interview

With Gavin Geddes

By Orville Burch

Author To Author

Orville: Tell us about yourself

Gavin: I enjoyed creative writing as a school kid in England but it always took a back seat to football. My teachers always seemed to read my stories out loud.

I was sexually abused from the age of 9-11.   I kept quiet as my abuser knew I would. In 2017 many ex professional footballers like myself   came out publicly about historical sex abuse they suffered. My abuser was still a friend of my parents so instead of going through courts for justice and compensation I wrote him a letter. That letter saw me jailed for 40 months. He was released without charge even though the Police told my family they know he did it. We have found new evidence that has been handed into Police that will see my abuser jailed. That is why I hold off releasing Soundtrack to a life. I want the last chapter The Long and Winding Road to be a happy ending and closure for me. The concept of Soundtrack to a life is each chapter is named after a relevant song like Life on Mars which is the chapter about my first day in prison. I had talks with a London Documentary maker but I don’t feel we have enough footage for a Doc. However, we are looking at a film dramatization as well as the book. I’ve had offers from England, America, Australia, and etc. to publish the book but until it’s completed I’m undecided. I’m a perfectionist and want this to be perfectly presented in every way.

The catalyst for my adult writing was hearing the Nick Cave song Into my Arms when depressed in my prison cell on day 13 of 1,219. It was the first time I’d heard it and it was beautiful. It gave me an epiphany to write my life story and a screenplay which is called An Evening with Neville Heath. I did these with no internet and haven’t changed anything about either project. The concept of both   as you will find out is so unique. My MC Stanley Turner is purely fictional but Heath was a real life killer. Made for stage or screen I know Heath will be a roaring success. I just need to pitch it!

Orville: Who is your target audience?

Gavin: My target audience is everyone. Sound Track To A life obviously involves Child Abuse, football , prison , mental health, family , the fight for justice and closure. Parts are dark but there’s also humorous parts and inspiring ones.

An Evening with Neville Heath is also for everyone. It charts subjects like the Holocaust, Capital Punishment, redemption etc.

 Orville: What are your hobbies?

Gavin: My hobbies are obviously football, writing and spending time with my kids and family.

Orville: Do you have a favorite quote?

Gavin: My favorite quote is by Arthur Ashe. I saw it on a crumpled poster on my first night in prison. “Start where you are, use what you have, do what you can”.

Orville: Are you a plotter or pantser?

Gavin: I am not a plotter of pantser I’m somewhere in between.

 Orville: Do you think there are underrepresented themes is books?

Gavin: I think books on Child Sex Abuse are underrepresented much like the subject is in society. It’s a taboo subject because child abuse starts at the top and is sadly covered up because of this. My name became public after my trial so Sound Track To A Life is a chance to get this subject into the public domain and hopefully help other Survivors.

Orville: What is your advice for young people wanting to start a writing career?

Gavin: My advice for young writers is believe in yourself and don’t enter competitions that can shatter your confidence. Only write when you feel inspired to do so. Don’t write for the sake of it.

Orville: Who would you say is your greatest influence?

Gavin: My greatest influence in writing is me. I was beating myself up mentally in prison but after that epiphany I picked up a pen and found a bit of battered card in a communal bin and thought up An Evening with Neville Heath. I’ve always been a pessimist but with my writings I’ve never been more optimistic about anything in my life.

[kallulovesu]

Heyooo :) can you do headcannons for a platonic yandere allies ?? Am aroace so that's the kind that floats my boat, also do you ever feel tired of writing ?? Like .. ur so productive, it's awsome but like .. I hope ur doing it cuz u have energy not cuz you have followers waiting 😬 take care Plz ❤❤🥺

For the anon that asked that yandere reader ask, thx u inspired this ask ur idea is rad :3

(A/N:) ahh thank you for the worry anon, but it’s no problem really!💞 I wouldn’t be making as much content if I wasn’t having any fun, since it’ll probably end up feeling more like chore...and I hate doing chores 😭

That one protective friend that makes sure to check up on you every second (but it’s turned up to the extreme and downright becomes unhealthy in some cases)™

It was ironic to him. Out everyone that he had gotten to know over all these years— hell, perhaps even Arthur; you were the only one he felt like understood him the most. Not many seemed to notice what was going on beneath the surface of his facade, which was why he appreciated you being there. You still liked him despite the many flaws that he had, and tried your best being with him even if it became downright tiring. Alfred would be heavily dependent on you because of this, often going to you to cheer him up— or before he was going to make a rash choice.

So it was only natural that he couldn’t see himself being without you.

You were like a best friend to him; Alfred would even go as far as to say that he felt a familial connection between the two of you. So the deep desire to protect you was normal, wasn’t it? Even when he felt himself worrying for your well-being at even the slightest approach of a stranger, it was just his instinct telling him that there was something wrong. It wasn’t anything unhealthy. Thus, would usually drag you away from anyone that he found to be suspicious; even those he was already familiar with. This would probably result in a lot of arguments, with him trying to say what was ‘best for you’ and with you denying that you needed this much...protection. You swore that it almost felt like he was just isolating you from the others, to have you purely depend on him for whatever reason you couldn’t make up.

Alfred can’t handle being apart from you— nonetheless the idea of you being angry with him, or even hating him . It truly didn’t matter if the reason was rather ridiculous or not, the idea of you hating him just...made his stomach churn uncomfortably. You were his best buddy, and basically one of the only ones he could trust with his inner worries; and the risk of it all being taken away from him because of a silly, childish mistake was all it took to send the poor boy into a state of panic. Please don’t leave him, he’d do anything to keep you there with him. Begging, gifting— you name it.

Arthur didn’t completely seem to realize his feelings at first, confusing it with romantic attraction for a little while— before quickly seeming to realize that it was all purely platonic. He did feel a bit protective of you, maybe even possessive...but it had nothing to do with romance, nor lust. It was just him wanting to have someone beside him, someone that he could call a friend. And someone that would never leave his side.

It won’t be hard to notice how...bad his communication skills were; with him often saying things that he didn’t really mean and slightly setting you off. Arthur is stubborn, so it may take some time (and slight teasing at how much he hesitated) for him to actually apologize. You’ll probably get used to it after a while, since he’s one big tsundere.

Saying this out loud was an absolute no-no for this man— but you being around Arthur was often enough to make him the slightest bit happier. It felt a bit lonely at times, especially with less and less people being around him these past few years. So having you as a friend almost felt like a breath of fresh air.

He’s very critical of those you choose to be around with, often analyzing even the smallest of things so he can determine if they’re actually worth being around you. Which more often than not ends up... not being the case. Arthur will tell you to stay away from them; saying that they were suspicious, and probably had something bad in mind. He’ll resort to isolating you if you were to disobey him, trying to take as much of your attention— and perhaps even kidnapping you if the extreme were to happen. You were his one and only best friend, and he had to make sure you were safe. Always.

Totally the big brother type...well, he usually proclaims himself as being one, so it isn’t that much of a surprise.

Francis will make sure to absolutely pamper you with his attention; hanging out with you, sending letters whenever he was too busy...and simply sending gifts from France. He simply couldn’t let you go off feeling unloved!

He adores talking about you; usually going off on a mindless ramble whenever someone even mentions your name, like a proud father showing off his child. Others will usually compare him to one due to how much he adores talking about you— or simply the way that he treats you. Which would quickly be disregarded with a: “oh, I’m no father! They’re just such a nice little friend to have around, who wouldn’t want to praise such a delicate person?”

On a second note....he actually did feel like a father figure to you. Huh.

Francis will often suggest helping you out with your love life, perhaps even gushing over cute guys together that you found on a random dating app— before quickly realizing that he didn’t really want this. Those silly moments were fun and all, but having you talk with someone that could just be out to use you made him a bit angry...and paranoid, mainly the latter. He will make sure that anyone that even so much dares to get close you first gets his approval first. The feeling of a broken heart was all too familiar to him, and he didn’t want you to experience such a thing.

This may result in him checking up on you...an awful lot, making sure that those around you were only the best of the best and wouldn’t end up being bad influence to you. Yes, he truly was like a father.

A sibling-like person in his life that he didn’t feel insecure against and acknowledged him as his own person? Fuck yes!!

Jokes aside— Matthew really does care deeply for you. Perhaps it was due to the Canadian barely having those that he could...truly call close friends, so having you around almost felt like a blessing. Unlike Francis, he won’t really show you off or talk about you much, especially around his brother. The American had already stolen enough from him, so why would he let something like that happen again?

He’s extremely wary of anyone that even so much tries to make a move on you. It’s just...you were someone that he held extremely dear; and having you potentially getting hurt due to some lowlife that managed to slip into your life would absolutely break his heart. Matthew didn’t want to fail in protecting you, he would never forgive himself if something like that were to happen.

Losing you is something that he wishes to avoid completely. He’ll even go as far as kidnapping you if it came down to it, Matthew just couldn’t see himself living happily without you by his side.

Yao likes cute things...and you’re a cute friend, so it’s a perfect match!

But seriously, he thinks that you’re absolutely adorable. Whether it be because of your personality— or your appearance, it really doesn’t end up mattering in the end. You’re his cute little friend, and that’s all that matters!

He’ll often treat you with more, yet gentler care than most of the others around him. He knew that you were well capable of taking care of yourself; but he just couldn’t help but see you as something fragile, something that he had to protect. So you can already imagine how frustrated he gets when someone treats you with even the slightest bit of disrespect— Yao will often confront them immediately, while you awkwardly have to sit back and watch it all. Almost feeling pity for the person that had to endure your friend’s seemingly never-ending complaints.

Oh, he probably doesn’t quite realize how he comes off as a father at times; seeing how much he’ll scold you for the smallest mistakes (while making sure to correct you of course!) and how he usually made decisions for you, making it hard to refuse his gestures due to his pushy nature. But it’ll probably become a normal thing for the two of you as time progresses, since it’s just...how Yao was, you assumed.

His controlling behavior will also reflect on how he treats your personal life. Yao is very selective of who he lets you be around with, so he’ll often look at your acquaintances and friends with a very critical eye, immediately expressing his distaste in them if they were even to do the smallest thing wrong. “Such a brute isn’t worth being around, (y/n).” Yao will warn you to stay away from them, but won’t bring it up any further if you decide to do what he says. If you don’t then...well, he had special friends to help him out with his dirtier work.

Yao might consider kidnapping you if this behavior keeps on repeating, but won’t feel compelled to actually do it unless something bad were to happen.

Ivan will always try his best to be there for you! While it most likely won’t quite work with him being a rather busy person; a country, nonetheless, but he’ll do his upmost best. It was extremely hard for Ivan to make friends that...weren’t scared of him or secretly disliked him, so having you was such a relief!

Being his only friend, he’ll make sure to be absolutely devoted to you— perhaps in a way that wasn’t too healthy in a friendship, and would often be looked down upon by those looking at your relationship from an outsider’s perspective. But could one truly blame him? Ever since he was born it felt like everyone around him were either toying with him, or were utterly terrified of the boy expect for his two sisters. It was lonely...so it isn’t hard to imagine how overjoyed he was once having you in his life; someone that didn’t display the usual fright whenever he approached them, nor did you look like you were out to hurt him.

Ivan appreciated you a lot.

It wasn’t hard to imagine that you’d most likely become the target of a few other countries, your connection with Ivan wasn’t extremely hidden from the outside world... (from how much he’d senselessly mutter things about you when daydreaming, and the many times he stuck by your side) and so, others would take it to their advantage. Those like Alfred will probably try convince you to leave Ivan’s side, spewing terrifying stories of the man to try and stir up something inside of you so you could leave him. It was mainly for your own safety, yes. But it was also to make the Russian weaker. It was obvious that he was depending on you heavily, and losing you would...god forbid if that would ever happen. Ivan would completely lose himself, perhaps even snapping completely.

So don’t hesitate to tell Ivan if someone was bothering you! Ivan will make sure to get rid of the little parasite from your life in an instant, giving them a short warning whenever the two come across each other...and making sure that he got his point across! It’s better to ignore their sudden disappearance after that day, since someone like them wasn’t worth lingering in your mind.

[wwinterwitch]

I love your stories with Kate Bishop, truly. I was wondering if you could write one where Kate is an absolute mess around the reader, like she gets shy and kinda clumsy because she has the biggest crush. And they are friends, not close friends but y'know, Kate is scared to say something and ruin what little relationship they have. Then one day they are at a party or something and end up playing that 7 minutes in heaven game, and Kate gets stuck with reader, so now trapped in a tiny closet with her crush she kinda panics. Can we have the reader ending up kissing her? And for a dash of angst, Kate cries a bit because she never thought she would like her back

I loved this request!! hope y'all like it <3 I included a few of the young avengers bc why not, they're amazing

7 MINUTES IN HEAVEN - KATE BISHOP

summary: during a game of 7 minutes in heaven, you and kate share your true feelings

pairing: kate bishop x gn!reader

word count: 2K

warnings: unshared feelings, awkward kate (obviously!), fluff and a little angst

a reblog is always appreciated!

my masterlist

Kate was about to faint the moment America told her you were attending tonight's party. Of course she should've guessed you were going to be there, given pretty much everyone was invited.

Still, she was very nervous to see you. It was evident that she has a massive crush on you, but it seems like you're completely unaware of it. Since you're not exactly best friends, you thought she was just shy or had trouble talking to people she wasn't that close with. That was both a relief and a nightmare. She could still be around you knowing you're unaware of her feelings for you, but sometimes she wishes you could just figure it out already and let her down gently if you don't feel the same. The thought of ever facing you to confess such a thing paralyzed her.

That's coming from someone who literally fought the biggest Mafia boss with the help of her all-time idol. How is that not nearly as terrifying as confessing her feelings to the person she likes?

"You have nothing to worry about," America assured her just hours before the party. "They have no idea you like them."

"Yes, but I know!" replied her friend, freaking out more and more as seconds passed. "I know, and I know when I look at them, and when they talk to me, and-".

"Can I say something?" she cuts Kate off. "You're being very dramatic right now. If you're that scared, just...don't talk to them."

"Is that what you do when you like someone?"

"I'm a lesbian, Kate. I don't get that privilege. Usually when I meet a girl I like I just tell her."

"And aren't you afraid of getting rejected?"

America smiled. "Did I mention I'm a lesbian?"

"Right," Kate muttered. "I'm sorry."

"It's okay. Look, just try to have fun and if things get too scary you can always come upstairs and take some time to calm down, okay? They're not going to eat you, Kate."

She really appreciated to have America there to calm her down. Not like Wiccan, Hulkling or Kid Loki would give her much help on this one. They were all pretty good friends, but she's not sure she can share that much with them just yet. Despite Kate being a very bubbly, sociable and talkative girl, her most personal stuff is reserved only to a few people. That few people mainly consists on America and Clint.

The party eventually started and so far Kate was doing fine. She was with Wiccan and Kid Loki playing video games on one side on the spacious living room of the Young Avengers' Compound. She saw you enter the party with a group of your friends and greet America, but as soon as you arrived you sat on a completely different post of the room with your friends and didn't even bother to look towards her direction.

It wasn't until the trio got up from their spot by the television and walked closer to your group to get a few drinks that you finally noticed her. It was just a quick glance as you were scanning the room to see who else was at the party, that you two made eye contact. It was really just a quick glance, but for Kate it lasted hours.

"Guys!" America called. Just then Kate noticed her sitting with your group. "We're playing truth or dare, want to join?"

"What are we, five year-olds?" Kid Loki joked.

"Judging by the way you behave sometimes, I'd say you are in fact a toddler," America snapped back sarcastically, earning a chuckle from the group and a smirk from him.

"Lucky I like you, Chavez," he replied, taking a seat next to her. 

"Who's turn is it?" Wiccan asked, also joining. That gave Kate no option but to stay.

"Since you three are new..." America said, looking in between her three friends.

"Alright, I'll go," Kid Loki quickly said. "Kate, truth or dare?"

Shit. Shit. Shit.

Kate's eyes practically flew to your direction like she somehow just got busted on her little secret. As if just with the implication of "truth or dare" you were going to be able to discover her feelings for you.

Feeling more trapped than ever in her entire life (yes, even when she fought a Mafia boss!), Kate considered her options. "Uh...dare?"

Kid Loki smiled innocently at her, which was never a good sign coming from that little devil. "I dare you to spend 7 minutes in heaven with...the person sitting across from you."

Immediately, all eyes traveled to your direction. Looking incredibly unbothered by it all, you let out a quick laugh. "Guess that's me."

Kate didn't know what to say at first, feeling like she could die right on that couch. As you were standing up from your seat, Kate sent a death glare in Kid Loki's direction, to which he only shrugged, that smile still plastered on his face. Wiccan and America were trying to hold back their laughter at the situation, though Kate noticed America trying to give her comfort once again, giving her a few pats on her back before she stood up as well.

"Where?" Kate asked.

"You can use that closet," Kid Loki pointed at one corner of the room. "We just keep cleaning supplies in there."

"Great," you said. "Is someone going to count?"

"Yup. I have the timer right here," one of your friends said, showing their phone to your direction.

Having nothing else to add, you and Kate headed towards the closet Kid Loki had pointed out just now. You opened the door for Kate to walk in first and you followed. As soon as you closed the light, you two were surrounded by nothing but darkness.

"Shit. Does this closet have any lights?"

"Yeah, there should be a light switch somewhere on this wall..."

You stood still as you waited for Kate to find it. As she moved, you noticed there was barely any space for the two of you to stand without touching, so that also encouraged you not to move so you would bump into her. 

Kate seemed to find the light switch, but the light wouldn't turn on, meaning you had to remain in darkness for the remaining minutes you had to stay there.

"Great," Kate muttered. "Sorry I dragged you into this."

"Oh, no it's fine," you quickly reassured her. "Sorry I didn't say hi to you before, I didn't see you when I got here."

"Don't worry about it. I mean, we have like six more minutes to say hello all we want."

You giggled at her comment. "Yeah, it seems so. It is kinda weird to be here just standing in the dark, right?"

Kate felt her entire face burning and, not knowing what took over her, she managed to find enough courage to reply, "Actually, I feel a lot calmer with the lights off."

"Really?" you asked. "Do I make you nervous, Kate Bishop?"

She knew you were joking. She knew she shouldn't be taking this seriously. It's a stupid dare that one of her stupid friends came up with. This means nothing. To you it means nothing. You're just trying to be nice and avoid staying the remaining minutes inside the closet a boring experience for the two of you.

They.are.not.flirting.

Since Kate wasn't answering, you let out a quick chuckle. "Hey, if it makes you feel any better, I'm as nervous as you right now."

Kate was speechless. "You...what?"

"Oh, don't make me say it," you replied. "You know what I mean."

"No, no. I really don't know what you mean," she insisted. Panic was taking over her as she begin thinking about what was going on. Is this really happening?

"Well, since this is seven minutes in heaven, might as well play the game right..." you muttered, more to yourself than intended for Kate to hear. That was your way to give you confidence on a time like this. "I might have a tiny crush on you. Not a big deal or anything, it's just...you're cute."

No way this is actually happening. 

Kate tried to say something, but she couldn't think of anything to say. Or maybe she just had so many thoughts and emotions that it was impossible for her to focus on what to say. She was in complete disbelief, because she seriously didn't expected you would ever be into her. You never really gave her any signs so she could figure it out on her own, either.

Since you really couldn't see her face that much due to the darkness, her silence was not exactly a good sign. "I made this awkward, didn't I?"

"What? No. No, not at all. I'm just surprised."

"Surprised?"

"Yeah. I just...I never expected you'd like me."

"What is there not to like? You're a badass superhero with a bow and arrow, and you're incredibly funny and nice."

"You are funny and nice," she corrected. "As for the superhero part, can't say much. That is definitely my area."

That once again made you laugh. "So...not trying to get the wrong impression or anything, but do you like, do you also like me or something?"

"Uh, yeah. I definitely like you or something," she replied as if it was obvious, her heart almost jumping out of her chest.

"Cool," was all you could say, feeling your face burning from embarrassment. After a few seconds in silence, you spoke again, "Kate?"

"Yeah?"

"Can I kiss you?"

There was a brief silence. "Sure. Yeah."

Her awkward response made you smile. In the darkness, you reached until your hand found the side of her face. Using that to guide you, it was only seconds before your lips met Kate's, sharing your very first kiss together. She was incredibly gentle with you, her hands resting at each side of your body. It was you the one guiding the kissing as she completely gave in, willing to receive your kiss for as long as you would allow it. When you pulled away, you rested your forehead against hers, simply enjoying the moment you two just had. However, worry took over you when you realized Kate started to silently cry.

"Is everything okay?" you asked gently, moving just enough to give her some space.

"Yeah, it's just...it's me. I'm a mess."

"You're not..."

"I am," she insisted. "I've just always felt so alone. Didn't really have anyone there for me, you know? Not like this, anyway," Kate added, sobbing. "You're the first person that has ever liked me that way, I...I don't know. I guess I started to believe I wasn't meant for the romance thing."

"Kate, you've got to be the coolest person I have ever met. How no one has ever told you how incredible you are is beyond me," you replied, making sure to clean the few tears still rolling down her cheeks. "And if you give me the chance, I promise I'll always be there to remind you every single day just how lucky I am to have you."

Kate chuckled softly, a hint of her previous crying still audible behind that laugh. She could easily continue crying, but this time out of pure happiness to hear you say that. "I'd really like that," she replied shortly after. "A-And maybe we can have lunch together tomorrow? Like a date, I mean. I think that's better than kissing inside a closet."

"Yeah, I think anything beats the closet," you quickly agreed, earning another chuckle from her. 

"TIME'S OUT LOVEBIRDS!" you heard America shouting from outside the closet.

"You're okay to go out?"

"Yeah, I'm fine. Can I kiss you before we leave?"

"No need to ask," you said, leaning closer to her for yet another kiss. This time, Kate got enough courage to grab the back of your neck as you kissed, getting more comfortable around you.

"So, how did it go?" Wiccan asked, the whole group looking at the two of you. You could tell they were expecting to hear something good.

"Wouldn't you like to know?" Kate replied sarcastically, walking towards the group as if nothing had happened. Like she wasn't just kissing you seconds before the door was opened.

"What happens in the closet, stays in the closet," you added.

"So something happened," America points out.

Kate shrugged, failing to hide her smile when her eyes landed on you. "Who's turn is it now?".

[qyuoza]

The Ditz with a Credit Card (KTH)

“She’s just a ditz with a credit card dude, give her daddy’s money and she’d do better in shopping than biology”

Genre: Fluff, (Slight!) Angst, Crack

Pairings: Kang Taehyun x afab!reader (Enemies to lovers?)

AU: Highschool!au, Clueless!au

Warnings: Mentions of a divorce, reader really isn’t the brightest star in the sky

Synopsis: You were the school’s most popular girl, constantly up to date with the latest fashion trends and someone who had it all because of daddy’s money. Though you weren’t the brightest, you definitely were a charmer, because it led the school’s smartest student to have his sights set on you.

Disclaimer! This fic does not represent Kang Taehyun or any of the Tomorrow X Together members in any way, and only a few parts are linked to the movie Clueless! Happy reading! (btw this took me 4 days to write and I’m so unsatisfied and this is VERY unedited but I hope u guys like it!)

It girl.

It was what everyone at school called you. You were always consistent with your style, and had the latest clothes for the season all the time. You lived in a mansion in Beverly Hills, which costs a pretty penny too, only proving your impeccable wealth. I mean, it’s not everyday that you’d see a sixteen year old that has a computer to pick her outfits, and a matching walk in closet that revolves.

You truly had everything in your grasp, as someone who was born with a silver spoon in her mouth. The only problem was, you weren’t the brightest star either. Sure you have good grades, but you pretty much lacked a bit in the common knowledge department. Needless to say, you were kind of an airhead at that too.

“It’s barely eight in the morning and he’s already paging me. Can you believe him?” Ningning, your best friend, whines. You giggle and roll your eyes at her playfully. “He’s so possessive” you reply. Her pager beeps again and she can’t help but sigh.

“I honestly don’t understand why you would put up with that Ning. I mean come on, you could do way better” you tell her again.

It was a line you memorized at this point, just because your best friend and her boyfriend were in this dramatic highschool relationship with each other.

As you both continue to walk towards the school building, Jaeyun (otherwise known as Jake), comes into view. He was Ningning’s boyfriend, the clingy one that constantly pages her. “Woman why haven’t you answered my pages?” He asks her.

Ningning looks at you and then up at him with a awkward smile. “You know I hate it when you call me woman, Jake” but before she could continue, she was interrupted by the male again.

“Well, where were you all weekend then? Don’t tell me you were out with someone else” he eyes her.

“Now don’t get me started—“ within secounds a small crowd started to gather around the couple, so you immediately started to excuse yourself before things could get worse. “Ning I’m audi!” You grin, and she waves you goodbye.

You never understood why your best friend would date a highschool boy, to you, they were basically like dogs. Always so filthy, hard to take care of and you needed to feed them. You would rather die honestly than be seen in a highschool relationship. It just didn’t seem worth it after all, you needed someone mature who could make your life more interesting.

Suddenly, your train of thought was cut off when a boy jokingly put his arm around you. That was until you shoved him aside. “Get off of me! Ugh, as if!” You huffed, before you started to get annoyed.

“Should all oppressed people be allowed refuge in America?” Your teacher speaks loudly, before walking to the front of the class. “Taehyun will take the con position, Y/n will be pro. Y/n, two minutes” he continues. You take your gum out your mouth and grin bashfully.

“So ok, like right now for example, the Haiti-ans need to come to America, but some people are on about ‘what about the strain on our resources?’” You say confidently, before continuing.

“Then it’s like, when I had this garden party for my father’s birthday right. I said RSVP because it was a sit down dinner, but people came that, like, did not RSVP. So I was like totally buggin’”

The class didn’t seem to be listening, but you could hear the male beside you stifling a laugh, which made you glare at him before you continued to state your argument.

“So, as I was saying, I had to haul ass into the kitchen, redistribute the food, and squish in extra place settings. By the end of the day though, it was like, the more the merrier, and so if the government could just get to the kitchen, rearrange some things, we could certainly accommodate the Haiti-ans” this had Taehyun keening, but he wouldn’t ever say it out loud that he was amused by you.

“In conclusion, may I remind you that it does not say RSVP on the statue of liberty” you end. The whole class erupts into cheers, and some laughed, including Taehyun, but you didn’t care. You gave your argument and that’s all that mattered.

Your teacher and Taehyun give you both a look, before he asks your opponent for a reply. “Mr. Hall, how could I answer that? The topic was oppression and she’s gonna talk about some garden party? This is ridiculous, I think we, of all people, would understand the oppression those people face, which is why we came to take refuge in America no?” Taehyun chuckles.

Mr. Hall couldn’t disagree, but you still had to say something. “Hello? It was his fiftieth birthday?” You interject. Taehyun rolls his eyes and waves a hand at you dismissively, before you both leave for your seats.

“Does anyone else have any other comments or concerns to bring up?” Mr. Hall asks the class. Hueningkai then raises a hand. “I have an insight Mr. Hall!” He chirps. “I’m all ears Kai” Mr. Hall replies.

“Ok like, the way I feel about the Rolling Stones, is the way my kids are going to feel about nine inch nails, so I really shouldn’t torment my mom anymore, huh?” Hueningkai says. “Yes well, it’s a bit off from our subject of Haiti but tolerance is always a good lesson” Mr. Hall smiles.

Soon enough, Mr. Hall was distributing the report cards and you grimanced as you looked at your grades. “A ‘C’ in debate? Are you kidding?” You muttered to yourself. You could hear someone chuckle from behind you, and lo and behold, it was Kang Taehyun. “Better luck next time since you can’t argue your way out of this one doll face” he smirks.

The bell rings and class is dismissed, so you immediately ring up Ningning to ask her how she did. “Ning, did you get your report card?” You ask. “Yeah I’m toast, how’d you do?” She replies from the other line.

“I totally choked! My father’s going to go ballistic on me” you say, completely distraught. “Mr. Hall was way harsh” she sympathizes.

“He gave me a C and it’ll drag down my entire average!” You whine, before running into her in the school hallway. “Bye” she says, and you nod in reply. “I’ll call you!” You call after her.

At home, you run into your step brother, well former step brother, Lee Heeseung. He’s the son of your dad’s last ex wife whom he divorced about five years back. “Heeseung, what is it with college students and your sad music every time you’re over” you whine, walking into the kitchen.

You watch him rummage through the frige and scoff, did his mom not teach him any manners? “So your flannel shirt, are you nudging towards the crispy Seattle weather or are you trying to keep warm in front of the refrigerator?” you snort.

“I came by dad’s office—“ “you mean MY dad, Lee” you cut him off and roll your eyes. Heeseung frowns and steps in front of you, a piece of carrot in his mouth.

“Hey now, just because my mother married someone else doesn’t make him any less of a father figure to me. My new step dad is horrible” he replies gruffly.

You couldn’t retort knowing he was right and you felt bad, so instead, you made your way past him and towards the living room to watch tv. Heeseung hops on the spot beside you on the sofa a second later while giving you a look. You notice and give him a similar look, wondering what was up with him.

“What?” You frown. Heeseung chuckles and continues to chew on his carrot. “Did something happen at school today? You seem moodier than usual” he points out.

“Nothing, just some stupid boy in my debate class! So full of himself, he laughed at what I had to say” Heeseung laughs and you hit his shoulder, causing the boy to yelp. “Oh come on Y/n, I’m sure it’s not that big of a deal” he replies, changing the channel.

“Hey! I was watching that! God, you just got back and you’re already acting like you own the place” you whine, stealing the remote from him. Heeseung rolls his eyes but chuckles at your behavior.

Sure, your parents weren’t on the best of terms, but you were still like a little sister to him after all, and he didn’t want that chance to pass since he’s always been the youngest in his own family. Suddenly, your dad calls you both into the dining room to eat with him.

“How was school today Y/n?” Your dad asks. You sigh and Heeseung stifles a laugh from beside you. “A total bust daddy, I got a C in debate and some snobby nerd made fun of me in class” you pout.

“You couldn’t argue your way out of this one? It’s ok Y/n, you’ll get it next time” your dad smiles at you. Even if you weren’t the brightest, your dad always saw through you and knew you were trying your best in everything.

The next day at school, you saw that guy again and only rolled your eyes at him. That was until you noticed his friends.

“Ning, psst, who’s that? Why is he hanging out with Hueningkai and Choi Beomgyu?” You nudge your best friend.

Ningning narrowed her eyes and looked in the same direction you were looking in. “What? The guy with black hair? That’s Taehyun remember. He’s like the top student and is usually cold to everyone. A lot of girls like him though because of his looks, but trust me, he’s not the person you’re looking for” she fills you in.

You nod and try to push every thought of the boy to the back of your head. Meanwhile, on Taehyun’s end, he could only smirk as he noticed you staring. He found you interesting that’s for sure, and he wanted to get to know you better, but who doesn’t know you though. You were constantly a hot topic at school with guys constantly pining after you, but Taehyun decided to take a different approach.

“HUH? What do you mean I have to be tutored by Kang Taehyun?! Are you insane Mr. Hall?” You exclaimed after class. Mr. Hall furrows his brows before continuing.

“Seeing as you got a low grade in debate, I wanted to at least pair you up with someone who’s done well in this class. If you want that C to turn into an A, you either get tutored or stick with that C and I know how much you care about your average, Ms. Choi” he finishes.

Taehyun could only smile next to you while you reluctantly nodded. You had to get a better grade in his class or else your entire average would plummet and you’d never get a shot at college.

“Alright then, it’s settled! Taehyun, you both can discuss the details, and please update me on anything as you both go on” Mr. Hall then dismisses you both.

Outside the classroom, Taehyun stops you. “What?” You spit at him. You didn’t mean to be so rude, but you were too mad to think straight right now. This boy made fun of you and your teacher had the audacity to make him your tutor at that?

“Woah calm down there princess, I wanted to discuss our sessions with you. I’m available at seven from Monday to Friday if that’s alright” Taehyun says. You nod at him and shove a paper with your number and address on it towards him.

“Here, daddy says I can’t be going anywhere while he’s on his trip so here’s my address. Just call me once you’re there I guess” before Taehyun could utter out a reply, you were gone.

That night, you didn’t expect Taehyun to turn up so early or to even turn up at all. He even ran into Heeseung at the door, and you wondered how on earth the two knew each other because they were chatting like old friends.

“What? He’s your tutor? Y/n, I’m sure you’re in great hands, this guy’s a genius” Heeseung chirps.

You could only roll your eyes as you lead Taehyun over to the living room to start your tutoring session. The faster you move, the quicker you could get this over with. Who was this guy anyway? And why does everyone think of him so highly?

“Here, sit down. I’ll get us some snacks before we start” you calmly say. The least you could do was be nice, it wouldn’t be fair on him if you stayed petty forever.

“Alright, thanks. Don’t worry, I won’t be too long. I’ll just go over what we missed and what you can improve on, does that sound like a plan?” Taehyun looks into your eyes, and you nodded, releasing a breath you didn’t realize you were holding.

In the kitchen, as you were setting snacks on the tray, Heeseung walks in and grins at you widely. “Snobby boy huh? I noticed you making heart eyes at him just a second ago, don’t tell me you’re all talk Y/n” he chuckles.

You throw him a glare and click your tongue, you did not like this boy! Sure he was cute, but you’d rather be dead than be caught with someone like him. He just seemed so, uptight and that was not someone you were willing to deal with.

“Me with him? As if! He’s just my tutor, once I ace this class and do better it’ll be like nothing ever happened between us” you smirk and walk into the living room. Heeseung could only sigh and roll his eyes playfully, he knew this would lead to something else, but he wouldn’t ever tell you. At least, not in the mean time that is.

“Oh you’re back! Put that over here so we can start” you place the tray over at a spot on the table and settle in next to Taehyun.

“About your argument the day before, see the problem was, you couldn’t stick to the topic but somehow related it towards the argument somehow? I found that good, but I think it would be better to relate it to the discussion” he smiles gently.

You admired Taehyun for his brutal honesty, but at the same time his compliment towards you. He didn’t make you feel a single bit bad about it, and you liked that about him.

“Alright, should we do a practice run then?” You suddenly quipped. Taehyun’s eyes lit up and he nodded gently, he was eager to see what you were going to prepare after he gave you some advice, and he was happy that things were going along quite smoothly.

“Should all oppressed people be allowed refuge in America? Y/n, you take the pro position again” he says.

“I think, all oppressed people should be allowed refuge in America. Even though people say it might strain our resources, we could still make it happen. This is a country of freedom is it not? And when the people that take refuge in this country can finally make something of themselves, they can help our economy” you say, matter of factly.

Taehyun’s face broke a bit, but he got over his confusion quickly and gave you a few more pointers. “That was better than the one before, but it still needs a bit of improvement. Good job though, and here, you can read off this topic until our next session” he highlights a page in the book and you smile. Baby steps.

Weeks passed by with Taehyun tutoring you to the best of his abilities, and although you wanted to say you hated it, you kind of grew to love the boy. He was so gentle with his words and never made you feel bad, you were even shocked that you were doing better in answering questions for a debate.

“Wow good job Y/n! Absolutely aced it! I’m insanely proud of you” he claps. You look away bashfully and saunter into the seat beside him on the floor.

This was your favorite part about your tutoring sessions with Taehyun, the part where you got to stare at him as he summarized all the topics you had gone through for the day. You loved the curve of his nose, the shape of his eyes, the way he would smile—

“Y/n? Hello? Are you alright? You were spacing out a bit there” Taehyun’s voice cuts you out of your daydream and you shake your head in embarrassment.

“I’m fine! Just a bit out of it, you were saying?” You grin, trying to mask your shame. Taehyun was definitely eye candy, and he was a sight for sore eyes.

“You did really well, I think you’ll finally get that A you deserve in debate. I’ve been updating Mr Hall on our progress, and it’s safe to say, you’ll be getting it sooner than you think” he beams proudly.

Taehyun felt his heart leap, and as much as he was feeling super proud of you, he also felt really sad. This meant everything would go back to normal, and you’d both grow into strangers again.

“Thanks for everything Taehyun! Sorry I was so rough on you in the beginning. Get home safe! I’d consider us friends now, so don’t hesitate to approach me if you need anything” you say softly.

You didn’t want to send the boy off, but you were afraid of getting your feelings hurt, so you masked it inside and bid him a goodnight, wishing you both had something more. That’s when you called Ningning.

“Y/n I’m telling you, you both probably have the hots for each other! Taehyun seems so into you, but I’d take it slow for awhile. You know, kind of being friends and seeing where things go from there” she squeals excitedly. You frown on your end, why didn’t he just ask you out though, was there something wrong with you?

“Be careful though best friend, he’s known for breaking a few hearts, but this time it seems like he’s genuinely into you. I say give it a shot” Ningning continues.

“I’ll try my best then Ning! Thanks for calling, see you at school tomorrow! Mwah” you end the call and lay on your bed, sighing dreamily. Taehyun treated you so sweetly, you couldn’t wait to make him yours, and knowing he was someone who was serious about relationships, it only made your heart beat even faster.

Though, you weren’t prepared for what was about to happen the next day. Your love for the boy was going to be tested.

You walk into school with a huge grin on your face. You were so ready to tell Taehyun that you liked him, and you could only hope that he felt the same. That was until you saw him talk to his friends, and you may or may not have overheard their conversation.

“Taehyun what’s up with you? If I was with that girl I’d leave. Like yeah she’s hot, but she isn’t the brightest up there you know” Beomgyu laughed wildly. Hueningkai chuckled next to him and put a hand on Taehyun’s shoulder.

“She’s just a ditz with a credit card dude, give her daddy’s money and she’d do better in shopping than biology” he jokes. Taehyun didn’t let out a single word when your eyes suddenly met. His grew wide upon noticing your glassy ones.

You run away and Taehyun immediately follows you, yelling your name and bumping into students as he tries to get your attention. Ningning was walking into school with Jake when she sees you, and when she sees Taehyun right behind, she immediately understood.

“Let’s get you out of here Y/n—“ Ningning was cut off by an out of breath Taehyun coming up to the three of you. You turn and hide behind your best friend and her boyfriend.

“Don’t even try Kang, I don’t know what you did but it seems like you visibly hurt my best friend and I will not stand for it” she growls. Taehyun looks away shamefully before looking straight at you.

“Y/n, can we deal with this in private? It’s not what you think and if you could just give me a few minutes to talk, I swear I’ll leave you alone” he practically begs. Ningning turns to you and you nod at her, gripping Taehyun’s wrist as you both walk to a more secluded area.

After finding an area far enough out where no one would be at, you look at the boy with a frown. “Look, what you heard is not what you think. It’s Beomgyu and Hueningkai being stupid” Taehyun starts. You scoff and wait for him to continue.

“Listen Y/n, I know I haven’t been the most transparent towards you, but to me, you’re more than a girl with a credit card and daddy’s money. You’re someone I look forward to seeing after school, because although I usually go home exhausted and grumpy, I remember that I get to see you during our tutoring sessions and I get to see your smile and hear your laugh for a few hours” he continues to pour out.

You were shll shocked. No one has ever been this honest about their feelings towards you, and someone who’s always been seen as just a girl freeloading off her dad and probably one of the dumbest people out there, you were touched by his words. Taehyun has always been sweet, but he never sugarcoated his words and was constantly straightforward with how he felt.

“I thought you were some dumb chick who likes shopping at first, but after getting to know you, I admired your beautiful personality. Y/n, you’re everything and more. You’re so caring, so genuine, and when I observe how you act around others, I see you doing your best no matter what” Taehyun takes a step closer before pulling you in by the waist.

“And I wanna take this chance to call you mine, because no one has ever made me feel this way” he kisses you deeply, and you kiss him back with just as much love.

“Are you still mad at me?” Taehyun grins when you both pull away. “Nope, but thank you really. I have never heard words as sweet as yours, no one has ever said such things to me” you admit shyly.

Taehyun frowns and pulls you in for another kiss. “Well, get used to it because I’ll give you more than that soon” he pecks your lips after and you hit his shoulder slightly. “Stop kissing me! We’re gonna be late” you whined.

It was safe to say, you got that A in debate, and a little something special after all. You wanted to prove that you weren’t the ditz with a credit card that everyone thought you were.

© qyuoza 2022 -. please refrain from plagiarizing any of my works and do not repost/copy onto any other sites.

[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.”

[the-bau-quinjet]

Trending

Summary: Steve thinks you’re too young to like him despite the obvious hints you’re dropping.

Warnings: unspecified age gap

Word count: 2246

a/n: I’ve clearly spent too much time on TikTok recently, but inspired me to write something so that's good. It was loosely based on a request for a young reader x Steve, but I forgot part of the request so I'm gonna write something else for that one! Also, I wrote this on my phone so please excuse any typos I missed when trying to edit it lol

Masterlist

Messing with Steve is one of your favorite things to do. Tiny pranks, over the top flirting, poking fun at his lack of understanding of technology. Anything you can do to get him to roll his eyes and chuckle.

Nat would say it’s because of your feelings for him. She would be correct. Not that you’d ever admit that to anyone. Nope. So instead, you have your fun, and enjoy the way his eyes crinkle and his cheeks redden.

Your newest method of hearing the sweet sound of Steve’s laugh? TikTok. It’s a double whammy. One because he doesn’t understand the app and two because a lot of the trends make him blush.

It started as a fun way to blow off steam. Sometimes, being one of the younger and newer team members made you feel like an outsider. Of course, Peter was younger than you, but he had his own friends outside of the team. You didn’t have anyone else. When Tony found you and invited you to join, it was you against the world. Now you have this makeshift family.

Having your account on TikTok helped you when you hadn’t really become a part of the group yet. You bonded with Peter because of his account, and you found a new way to make Steve blush.

Anyway, you’ve learned way more TikTok dances than you ever would have thought just to see his pink cheeks. It’s not even always over the top dances that have him chuckling. The last trend you did had him laughing the entire day. It was that sound about Wednesday Adams having one thing on her mind. Only when it said homicide, instead of a deadpan expression you panned the camera to show Bucky and Sam arguing over who got the last donut.

Of course, you knew when you made the video it would appeal to Steve’s sense of humor. Sam and Bucky feature in a lot of your videos for that exact reason.

In general, you make a lot of videos featuring the Avengers just to keep Tony happy. He likes to be the center of attention, plus the only way he would approve of your account was if it could also feature as PR for the team. You agreed, as long as you had final say over what you posted. There’s nothing scripted or designed for a specific reason, you just feature the team sometimes.

Like when that sound from the Big Bang theory was popular amongst Avengers fans, you made a video confessing to Pepper that you’d been thinking about the Avengers, panning to show the team during training.

Of course, the text on the screen said “you are an Avenger” instead of “I believe that”, allowing you to play off the joke. But still, it was fun to include the team.

One of your favorite videos features none other than Scott Lang, mostly because nobody else would do it. Scott thought it was hilarious though.

Using the sound from New Girl, Scott played Schmidt and you Jess. The text on the screen read as follows:

Scott: You just walk around all day thinking about America’s Ass?

You: Yeah, don’t you?

Scott: No! How do you get anything done?

You: It’s hard…

Steve blushed like crazy when everyone cornered him to watch it. Bucky, Sam, and Tony wouldn’t stop bringing it up for at least a month. A part of you hoped he might make a move after that video, seeing as you put yourself out there, but he just assumed it was a joke and laughed it off.

Honestly, you were running out of trends that you could use to get him to understand your feelings. You only had two ideas left, and one of them would be mortifying if it didn’t work out…

-

“Steve. You’ve got to be kidding me.” Bucky sighed, exasperated with Steve for the umpteenth time that month. “You’ve been pining for forever, just make a move!” he whisper yelled, doing his best not to throttle his lifelong friend.

Steve rolled his eyes, purposefully ignoring Bucky’s pointed glare. The two men had spent the last hour looking through your TikTok account. Bucky was adamant that you liked Steve, but the blonde didn’t believe it, despite the so called proof Bucky kept forcing him to watch.

“Buck, would you please just back off? We’re friends. She’s too young to want to be with me like that.” Steve blushed, thinking about the context of his words.

Before Bucky could say anything about how repressing his feelings is bad for him, a new video popped up on your account. Bucky smirked when he saw the thumbnail was once again a picture of Steve, this time with a beard. Steve took the silence as an opportunity to escape, walking into his closet to change.

The video opened with a video of you and Natasha just hanging out, you lip syncing to the words “I like you have a cupcake.” You repeated the words as the video cut to you and Tony.

Bucky nearly dropped the phone when “smack my ass like a drum” blared from the speaker. He cackled bending over in a fit of laughter when he realized that’s what Steve’s picture was used for- and one where he had a beard to boot.

“What is it now, jerk?” Steve emerged from his closet, having changed into loungewear. The sight of Bucky fully cackling had him nervous.

Bucky tossed him the phone, doing his best to stop laughing long enough to tell him to watch the most recent video. With a hesitant sigh, Steve obliged.

Again, Bucky rolled his eyes at how obvious Steve’s feelings were. The second he saw you on the screen, he smiled. And not one of those half hearted polite smiles, a full on happy smile.

Steve’s eyes widened, nearly bulging out of his head when he got to the end of the video.

“‘She doesn’t want to be with me like that.’” Bucky mocked his friends earlier words, grabbing his phone back. “Punk, I don’t know how much more obvious she could be.”

With one more glare in Steve’s direction, Bucky finally left him to his own thoughts. Okay, so you made a lot of videos about how you find him attractive. That doesn’t necessarily mean you’d want to be in a relationship with him. Leave it to Steve to talk himself out of everything Bucky had spent so long trying to convince him of.

-

You were desperate at this point. You honestly thought the cupcake one would send him over the edge, but it didn’t work either. It has been three days, and you know Steve’s seen the video because everyone likes to tease him about it.

“Naaaaaat, it’s not working,” you whined, dramatically throwing yourself onto her bed. She laughed at your antics, briefly looking up at you before deciding to stop what she was going and give you her full attention.

“Look, not only is Steve one of the most clueless people I’ve ever met when it comes to women, but he can also talk himself out of believing someone’s interested in him. Especially you.” Nat watched as you lifted your head from her comforter, slowly turning to stare at her with narrowed eyes.

“Especially me?” you questioned. Why would you have a different standard?

“Y/N, Steve’s from the 40s. He’s super old fashioned. You're a hot young thing, super up to date on modern trends. He thinks you're just messing around as friends because he doesn’t believe someone as young as you would be interested in actually having a relationship with him,” she spelt it out for you, sick of trying to get you to figure it out on your own.

You took a minute to fully understand what she was saying, but then sat up when a new idea struck. “So you’re saying I need to be more direct?”

Her eyes narrowed, but she nodded nonetheless.

“I’ve got an idea. Thanks Nat!” you ran from the room before she could question your newest plan, instead checking to make sure her notifications were on for posts from your TikTok account.

-

“Steve!” you shouted when you saw him down the hall, about to turn a corner. He immediately stopped, turning back to see you running at him. “I need your help!”

You pulled him into the gym, briefly glancing around the room to make sure it was empty. Confirming nobody else was present, you set up your phone on one of the weight racks to record the two of you. It was already open to the recording section of TikTok, the sound you needed queued and ready to begin.

“What’s going on?” Steve looked between you and the phone, nerves heightening as he realized what you were doing. All of your videos about him thus far hasn’t actually involved him filming anything.

“I just need you to react to this trend, okay? It’s kind of old, but that doesn’t really matter,” you spoke quickly, trying to start the video before he could decline.

The music started playing instantly, with Steve awkwardly looking between the screen and you. He wasn’t sure what exactly he was reacting to, and it had him on edge. Just as the song reached the chorus, you turned and grabbed his face. Throwing caution to the wind, you followed through with your plan before you could back out, kissing him with all the passion and emotion you’d been holding back.

Steve froze, clearly surprised by your actions. Before you could pull away, he wrapped his arms around you and pulled you closer. He kissed you with equal passion and emotion, no longer paying attention to your phone recording the moment.

Neither of you noticed when the music cut off, too wrapped up in each other. When the need for air overpowered the desire to keep kissing him, you pulled back to gasp in a few breaths. Steve leaned his forehead against yours, eyes closed and breathing erratic.

The two do you spent the next few moments just breathing, trying to come to terms with what just happened. You gasped when his hands moved, one resting on your waist and the other cupping your cheek. His eyes were still closed when you chanced a glance at him.

“What was the trend?” he breathily whispered the words, still coming down from the high of kissing you.

“Huh?” you mumbled, unable to comprehend the question when he was still touching you like this.

“The TikTok trend? What was it?” his grip on your hip tightened, but his hand framing your face remained gentle.

“Oh, uh, it was- it was kissing your best friend/crush.” You whispered, heart still racing from his proximity. Your nerves had never been greater. Yeah, Nat always tells you that Steve has feelings for you, but what if he was just being polite? Maybe he didn’t know how to reject you when you kissed him out of nowhere, and now he’s trying to find a way to turn you down gently. What if-

“Was my reaction good enough to post?” he broke your train of thought with another question. You took a minute to think about the question, your brain still moving like molasses

“Um, that depends…” you froze when his eyes opened and stared into yours.

“On?” he prompted you to continue.

“Which caption I can use.” you finished the thought, finally remembering the two most common outcomes of the trend.

“What are the choices?” Steve smirked when you looked flustered, clearly not expecting this conversation.

“Uh, the two-” he began rubbing small circles into your hip with his thumb, effectively cutting off your train of thought again. It wasn’t until he lightly squeezed your hip again that you remember you were answering his question.

“Right! The two most common captions are some variation of ‘this was so awkward’ or ‘we’re dating now’,” you managed to blurt out the choices, blushing when he smiled at you.

“Well, I know which I prefer…” you waited with bated breath as he prolonged the silence, enjoying seeing you so on edge. You nearly whined when he let you go, moving to pick up your phone from the weight rack.

You watched in silence as he typed out a caption, tapping each letter with his pointer finger. A small smile formed on your lips at his adorable old man behavior. He then managed to find the post button, adding the video to your account before handing you the phone to see what he chose.

Your smile only grew after you read the caption, dropping the phone and immediately kissing him again.

-

Meanwhile, Nat had gathered the rest of the team that happened to be around to wait for whatever video you had planned to be posted.

Tony, Sam, Bucky, Wanda, Vision, Peter, and Clint all watched as the new video popped up on the screen. Peter bounced with excitement when he heard the song, instantly recognizing the trend. The rest of the group watched as you kissed Steve, mouths gaping open when he actually kissed you back.

Fans were already commenting about how long it took for the two of you to get together, but the team was too focused on laughing at the caption to pay any mind to the comments.

She said the trend was kind of old, but that fits because I’ve got a habit of waiting too long anyways.

Permanent taglist: @averyhotchner @jesuswasnotawhiteman @strawberryspence @sebastnstn @jswessie187 @ellobruv

Marvel: @leyannrae @livstilinski @oceaniamaddness @justreadingficsdontmindme

[the-writer-ofthe-fandoms]

Emergency Visits (Bucky Barnes)

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Fem!Reader

Words: 4.5k+

Warning(s): SMUT! Oral (Reader recieving), fingering, penetration, fluff!!! (Cringe warning too)

A/N: HONESTLY, idk why i had the courage to write smut but I did. THE ORIGINAL ONE-SHOT WASN’T SUPPOSED TO HAVE SMUT LMFAO also yall know I am a sucker for crossovers SOOO the timelime for TFATWS is off in this because Frank Castle is in here and I wrote most of this before episode 5 <3 

Summary: Bucky, Sam, and Zemo need a place to lay low in while in the States and you're their most trusted person they know. What was not predicted was your vigilante friend needing medical help that same night. 

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

You were a former Avenger. You were highly trained in combat but your purpose was to help any wounded comrade or citizen when you and the team were called in. The fighting days were pretty much over for you after the last battle with Thanos. You still used your medical knowledge to work at the different hospitals in New York City and helped Matt Murdock or Frank Castle with any wounds. Rarely you'd help with some vigilante work, but you rather sit out and keep to a less violent life.

You were mindless watching whatever Netflix suggested to you on a breezy night in your humble apartment in New York. It has been a rather boring few nights for you compared to more hectic ones, given your vigilante friends weren't getting as hurt as usual and didn't need discreet medical care.

Your cellphone ringing next to you snapped your attention away from your binging of a John Mulaney  stand up show (good choice Netflix). You looked at the caller idea and swore your heart fluttered ever so slightly.

James Buchanan Barnes was calling.

You had spent many months in Wakanda with him as Shuri worked tirelessly to get rid of Hydras grasp on his mind. Your main focus was learning new information on medicine but you always made sure to visit Bucky. You both got pretty close... Light touches, lingering hugs, and often staring at each other when the other wasn't looking became a commonality. It was obvious feelings of love were blossoming for you, but you weren't fully sure if he felt the same.

After the battle you both stayed in contact, but he decided to reside in D.C. while you laid roots back in the familiarity of New York. You both made sure to visit each when possible, but it had been about a month and a half since you last saw him.

"Hey, Buck." You smiled, answering his call. "It's been a few days, usually you make sure to call every other night. Are you okay?"

"I..." You heard him sigh, making you sit up straight.  "I need a favor, doll."

"Of course, you know I would do practically anything for you."

"That applies to me too right?" You heard Sam in the background, making you chuckle.

"Yes, it does Sam. How are you?"

"I've been better, these past few days have been rough but I'll let Stare-a-tron explain it to you." You heard a wack and an 'ow' come from Sam.

"So..." Bucky started but didn't continue.

"So...?"

"So, have you paid any attention to the news regarding Munich?"

"I have now connected the dots."

"What?"

"You broke a certain terrorist out of jail didn't you, James." You groan. When you saw the news about Zemo you couldn't possibly connect it to Buck and Sam, but with this call and a need of a favor instantly made you realize.

"Technically, (Y/N), he broke himself out."

"Do I need to slap some sense into you? He killed King  T'Chaka. He broke up the Avengers--"

"I know, I know." You heard him sigh. You listened in closer and heard some background traffic noise that sounded like the streets of New York. "Listen, we need a place to lay low for a bit in the States and your the only person I can one-hundred percent trust. I can't tell you more on the phone but please-"

"Yes, yes of course Buck. You guys, well minus Zemo, are welcomed here for whatever reason. Do you need me to text you the address?"

"Nah, we are actually about to enter your apartment building."

"Well hurry up so we can decide on take out." You chuckled and hung up the phone. You only had to wait a few minutes before you heard knocking at your door. Wasting no time you opened the door as fast as you can and practically tackle Bucky into a hug.

He chuckled gently, "I missed you too, doll."

You released him from your hold and grinned as Sam. "Come here Sam, I haven't seen you in a few months." You pulled him into a less dramatic but friendly hug.

"Good to see you too, (Y/N)." Sam and Buck made their way into the apartment leaving you faced to face with Zemo.

"Hello." You greeted, offering a differential handshake.

"Hello, (Y/N). I hope all is well." He accepted the short handshake and gave an equally differential smile before entering your apartment.

"Welcome to my humble abode, make yourselves at home here. I have two bedrooms so we better discuss sleeping arrangements-"

"Easy, I call dibs bunking with you while Wings and Zemo stay in your spare room." Bucky interrupted.

"Hold up, why can't you stay with creepy-magee? I'm sure you two would love to stare at each other." Sam argued.

"Because I called dibs, isn't that right Doll?"

"He did call dibs, Sam." You shrugged and laugh at his look of betrayal.

You heard Zemo start to speak but Sam beat him to it, "You don't get an opinion." Zemo simply put his hands up and surrendered while the other two kept arguing about the concept of dibs.

"Anyways I'll order some Chinese food and we can discuss why you three are here over dinner."

--------

Your mind was blown.

Bucky and Sam filled you in on Isaiah, the return of super soldiers, why they needed Zemo, and the issues they had with the New Captain America. You also almost chastised Bucky for missing his mandated therapy session but decided to keep eating your food and let him continue.

"Wow, that is fucking nuts. Super soldiers, huh?" You sigh. As much as you didn't want to, you had a feeling they would need your help with fighting. After all you fought along with the original Captain America, so you picked up ways to fight super soldiers.

"Yeah, after Madripoor we need to lay low. Hopefully no one spotted us." Sam said, starting to pick up his dishes. Everyone seemed to follow suit and you were about to speak again when you heard knocking at your door.

"Hey, can you take these  for me? I'll go answer the door." You slid your stuff towards Buck who looked at you worried.

"Do you want one of us to answer the door with you?"

"Nah I should be fine, it's probably Mrs. Espinoza looking for her sons cat." You waved him off, making your way to the door. You unlock your locks and crack open the door.

There stood Frank fucking Castle, covered in an obscene amount of blood while using  the wall for support.

"Hey..." He greeted with a hoarse voice and a weak attempt of a smile.

"Holy shit, Frank." You said barely above a whisper. "Fuck, can one you guys come here?!" You shouted, opening the door wider while taking one his arms over your shoulder.

"What the hell, (Y/N)?" Bucky looked at you and the blood soaked Punisher with bewilderment.

"I'll explain in a bit! Just help me take him to the couch. Sam go get my medical bag, it's in my closet in the room on the left! Zemo clear everyones stuff from the couch." You barked out orders while you and James carefully led Frank to the couch. When Zemo cleared it off and Sam came running out with your bag, you both laid him down on the couch.

With no hesitation you quickly wash your hands and prepare your equipment.

"Are you going to tell us what the hell is happening right now, (Y/N)?" Buck asked.

"I am also wondering why we have a beaten guy on your couch." Sam's face was full of worry.

You sigh and begin removing Franks clothes to look for any life threatening wounds. "This is the Punisher. If you haven't kept up with the more lower level news he is one of the vigilantes."

"That doesn't explain why he is here."

"I... I am friends with him and Daredevil. I patch them up so they can avoid the hospital." You see a bullet wound on his side, it was bad but it was manageable with an exit wound. "One of you hold him up so I can stitch his back."

Bucky immediately joined your side, using his enhanced strength to hold up Frank.

"You gonna introduce me to your friends here, (Y/N)?" Frank rasped. "I gotta know whose cold ass hand is touchin' me."

"I'll introduce you to them later, let me get you stable."

-----

After what felt like hours, you finished dressing a gash on his thigh. You peel of your bloodied gloves and get up from kneeling on the floor. You helped sit Frank up so he can get a good look at whose here.

"Frank, this is Sam Wilson and James Barnes. I worked and fought with them as an Avenger." You gesture to the two. You saw him eyeing Buck before giving you a knowing look. You both were friends after all, he knew of your feelings towards Bucky.

"Who's the guy in the pimp coat?" He grunted and gestured towards Zemo, who rolled his eyes.

"Baron Zemo. Escapee prisoner."

"Zemo? As in the guy who bombed the UN? Do you need me to-"

"No Frank, they need him alive." You chuckled.

"Well, it's good to put faces to names. Especially yours, James." Frank spoke, nudging you. "I'll get my spare clothes and rinse off the blood now, something tells me the guest room will be taken." You were going to protest but knew Frank was too stubborn to listen. The four of you watched him make his way to the guest room before closing the door.

"Oh so he knows about us but we don't know about him?" Sam arched a brow at you. Bucky stayed silent, clenching both his fists.

You sigh, "I am sorry for not telling you guys. I didn't keep my involvement with vigilantes away from you both on purpose, I promise."

"Can we trust the Punisher? Will everything be safe with all of us here?"

"You don't have to worry about me talking." Frank came out of the room in new clothes, using a damp towel to wipe his face. "(Y/N)'s stuck her neck out for me countless times. I owe it to her."

"If (Y/N) trusts you then we trust you."

"As much as I want to stay up, I think it is best we get some sleep. Tomorrow we can talk more." You stretch and yawn and everyone seemed to agree. Castle put a pillow on the couch and grabbed a spare blanket you had lying around.

"C'mon man you can have the bed. You look like you got the shit beaten out of you." Sam said.

"Nah it's fine. I'm a light sleeper. I can stay out here in case he," Castle pointed to Zemo, "tries somethin'."

"C'mon Buck, your rooming with me." You smile and grab his non-vibranium hand.

"I don't want to share a room with Zemo." Falcon groaned

"Bucky did call dibs after all."

You said goodnight to Sam, and gave Frank a quick hug goodnight before you and James went into your bedroom, a duffel bag in his hand.

James was feeling jealous. He didn't want to admit it but watching how friendly you were with Frank Castle made his feelings worse.  He could pick up the familiarity between the two of you and how easy you were able to talked to him. Frank was someone in your life Bucky didn't know existed.  How close were you to the Punisher?

Thoughts of you and Frank entered his head but he quickly tried to dismiss them. It made his chest ache just thinking about you and another man. Yeah, Buck was smitten with you. But the feelings of self-doubt and guilt always made it hard for him to confess. With the addition of Frank? Made it almost impossible.

"You can use the bathroom to change while I cahnge out here." Your voice snaps him out of his thoughts. He nodded silently, clenching his jaw, while entering the bathroom.

Your stare lingered at the door before you quickly put on a different set of comfortable clothes, discarding your previous clothes to the floor. You picked up on his sudden quietness and you hoped he wasnt truly mad at you. With a quiet sigh you slid under the blankets of your bed and waited for Bucky so you could get to bed. You and Bucky have shared the floor and bed before, and you were able to keep it together.

But after everything that has happened, after finally seeing him after almost two months, it made you feel nervous. You weren't sure if it was exhaustion or stress, but your feelings for Bucky suddenly felt overwhelming.

If that wasn't enough, you felt like your face was burning when he stepped out from the bathroom, wearing just his boxers and dogtags.

"I, uh, hope you don't mind. I found sleeping without a shirt easier to deal with nightmares. Helps cool me off."

"No, no. Don't worry at all Buck." You smile but it felt like your heart was going to leap out of your chest. He smiled briefly before he turned out the lights, joining you in bed. You both laid on your sides, back facing back. You shut your eyes and try to focus on sleeping, but the image of shirtless, only in boxers James flooded your thoughts.

"Doll?" James voice cut through the silence.

"Y-yes, Buck?"

"Who... Who is Frank  to you?" He asked in a low, dejected tone. Your eyes snap open. What kind of question was that from him?

"What do you mean?" You roll to face him but his back was still towards you.

"Are you and Frank..." He paused, "just ignore it, nevermind."

"Bucky, face me." He didn't  respond. "Please, James." You heard him sigh but he complied, turning to face you. The subtle light from your window made it easier to see his handsome face in the dark. You gulped, trying to muster an ounce of courage to tell him these feelings you've held for him for years.

"Frank and I are strictly friends. Before he became the Punisher he had a wife and two kids who he loved dearly. They-they were killed in front of him. He loved his wife dearly and I don't think he is looking to start dating anytime soon." You sigh and things go silent for a moment.

You rested a hand on his cheek and scooch closer. "James, I... I really enjoy spending time with you. I enjoy your presence. After all that we have been through,  with getting the code words out your head to losing Steve... I want to be by your side no matter what." You felt tears prick your eyes.

"I feel the same way about you doll." James spoke, just above a whisper. "You help ground me and honestly you help keep me sane." His hand found its way above yours that was cupping his cheek. Gently he moved your hand to his lips. He placed a soft kiss to your knuckles before moving it over his heart. "I've felt this for a while and I never had much courage to say it before but... I love you, (Y/N)."

"I love you too, James." You smile, a few happy tears managed to escape your eyes.

"C'mere." He helped move you close to him, pulling you into a deep hug. The chill of his vibranium arm caused goosebumps but the warmth of his other arm gave you comfort.

You wrap your arms around his bare torso and snuggled your face into his neck. God he smelt good. With a little courage coursing through you, you gave him a small kiss on the neck before giving him a little love bite, nothing that would bruise.

Bucky chuckled moving a part from you, just enough to get a full look at your face. Without saying anything he leaned in, his eyes hooded, placing his lips on yours. One of his hands found its way to your head while the other rested on your hip. You pushed your body closer to his, while gently dragging your nails across his back.

"Mm Doll." He mumbled against your lips. "I... I want to continue this with you if that's alright with you."

"Yes, Bucky." And in an instant after giving him the word, he maneuvered you onto your back while he hovered on top of you, his dogtags dangling down. He removed them from his body.

"Don't want those hitting your pretty face." He smiled and leaned in to kiss you once again, this time him slipped his tongue into your mouth, deepening the kiss. His warm hand rested on your neck before he slowly dragged it down your chest and to the hem of your shirt. He messed with it a little, teasing to go underneath.  You whine a bit and arch your back as he kept messing with it.

"May I?" You simply nod in response. He pushed himself away from you and took the hem of your shirt, helping you remove it. The cold air hitting your now exposed chest made you shiver. "No bra? Naughty." He smirked.

"I'm not the one who came out only his his boxers."

"Touché." He tossed your shirt onto the ground and soaked in the view below him. The perfect lighting leaking through the blinds illuminated everything in just the right way. James licked his lips, "You are gorgeous, doll."

"You're pretty handsome yourself." You smile, which made him smile.

"Let me treat you like a goddess. Let me repay the favor." Without another word James attacked your neck with his mouth, nipping and sucking on the area. He continued leaving love marks from your neck down to your chest slowly. The sensation made you moan as tingles went through your body. You felt yourself getting wetter as he continued to leave hickies on your chest.

Bucky used his non-vibranium hand to cup your right breast, kneading it gently. Maintaining eye contact with you his leans his head down to your free breast before giving your raised nipple a quick lick. The feel made your body shake ever so slightly, making him smirk at the reaction. He did it again, although this time slower before latching on, using his tongue to swipe over the sensitive bump.

"Bucky-" You gasped. You felt heat slowly build in your core, not enough to have you screaming, but enough to feel pleasurable. "That feels so good." He continued giving your tender breasts and nipples attention, slowly building you up.

"Lets get these pajama shorts off." He sat up again, moving himself lower on the bed. He gripped the waistband of your shorts and began slowly removing them while you lifted your legs to help. Discarding them like your shirt, he tosses those articles of clothing to the floor. You were left with just your panties

His hands take your knees and help spread your legs farther a part, soaking in the view of your body spread out. His mouth found its place on your in thigh. He left small kissed, sometimes little bites, and he dragged his mouth closer and closer to your wet pussy. "I want to taste you doll, is that alright?"

"Y-yes Bucky, please." You begged, adjusting your hips ever so slightly. "I want to feel you more."

"As you wish." He smirked. Before he removes your panties he places soft kissed over the fabric covering your pussy. You stifle a moan, as he continued to tease you against the fabric. When he was done, he remove your underwear with ease.

"You are stunning, absolutely stunning." His hand found its way to your slit. He gently  brushed his fingers over your sensitive skin, making your body twitch ever so slightly. "You're so wet for me, already." His tongue slowly and softly dragged around your vagina and clit, the teasing is back on.

"A-Ah!" You quietly moaned, trying to keel your voice down. You moan again when you felt one metal finger enter slowly while his mouth latched to your clit. One of your hands reached down to grip his hair as he began to finger and play with your clitoris.

The pleasure had your curling your toes. You had to bite your lip to hold back from moaning loudly. You didn't feel like waking up the others.

Another finger entered as he started to speed up his motions, his tongue and mouth still on your clitoris.

"That feels so good." You said with an airy tone as he continued to work.

"You taste divine." His breath against your sensitive skin made you your thighs clamp around his head. The pleasure was building up and you felt like your were close to cumming.

"J-James, - oh god!" You kept your voice down but the work he is doing to your clit made it hard to stay quiet. "Fuck-"

James give your clit one last lick before sitting, removing his fingers in the process. He then licked his fingers clean as he stared down at your panting body. He could feel his cock wanting to be free from his boxers so he removed them, letting his large erection out. He watched you squirm as you awaited for his touch again.

"Do you want my dick inside you, doll?"

"Ye-yes please." You begged, wiggling your hips for him. "Please!"

"God your so hot." He leaned back over you, placing a sloppy kiss on your mouth. You could taste yourself on his lips. Lining himself up to your entrance he looked to you. "Ready?"

"Yes!" He smiled, and slowly slide his cock inside you. You gasp as you feel him stretch you out, tears stinging your eyes. He stopped once he was fully in, letting you have a moment to get adjusted. "I don't know how I'll keep my voice down."

"Bury your face into my neck, I want to hear you moan my name."

You did what he suggested, you wrapped your arms around his torso while he used his vibranium arm to stay stable and his other arm around your head to keep himself close to you. His body was completely on top of yours.

"You can move now."

James slowly moved his hips away, almost entirely removing his cock from you except the tip before thrusting back in. Your moan was successful smothered by his body. He continued thrust himself inside your pussy, the sound of skin slapping skin filled the room.

"O-Oh James- yesyesyes," You mewl. "You feel so good." You heard him let out a husky groan in your ear.

"I love it when you say my name, (Y/N)." He whispered in your ear as he kept his pace. You continue to moan out his name, gripping him tight as his thrust got faster. "Fuck, your so tight."

"Shit- faster!" You begged and he obliged. "You're so good to me Bucky. You-you're perfect." You could feel his thrust starting to gst sloppy as you felt waves of pleasure course through your body.

"Baby you make me crazy." He moaned. You could feel his hand make its way down to your clit, and your body arches against his as he pressed down on the sensitive bud. He practically started pounding your pussy as he moaned in your ear.

"James I'm gonna- I'm so close!" You cry out as the the feeling kept building.

"Do it, cum for me."

It was like everything in your body started shake as the pressure finally snaps in your core. You bury your face into his chest and moan his name as blinding, white hot pleasure filled your being. Your walls tighten around his cock  and you feel him start to tense.

His thrusts became harder before he finally released his thick cum inside of you before collapse onto of you, panting. Both of you were sweaty and breathing hard, but neither of you moved. The feeling of his cock inside you, twitching, was extremely hot.

"You're amazing, (Y/N)." He grinned, making you smiled.

"You're the best damn thing in my life, James."

---------

You woke up naked the next morning, curled up to an equally naked, sleeping Bucky. You smiled, remembering last nights confession and everything after that. You watch him sleep for a moment before deciding to slip out of bed to make everyone breakfast. You throw on the pajamas you wore before hand and quietly leave the room.

You close the door as quietly as and turned around, only to see Frank sitting at the table reading a magazine you had lying around.

"Oh good morning Frank." You smiled and walked past him, hoping he wouldn't notice anything. "I'm gonna make some breakfast for everyone."

"Morning, (Y/N)." He grunted. "Sleep well?"

You almost choked on air, "Yes, I did. How about you?"

"Oh you know, the couch is alright but I am a light sleeper remember? I kept hearing weird noises through the night. " Your face felt on fire as you turned to face him. He wore a smug smirk on his face. "Got something on your neck there."

You rush to grab your phone and look in the camera. Low and behold, hickies were left on your neck. "Shit."

Frank snorted, "So you finally got with your crush, huh?"

"Oh shut it you grump."

"I'm just teasing you. You know I'm happy for you, (Y/N)."

"Thanks, Frank."

Frank decided to help you with breakfast, taking on making bacon and sausage while you attended to making pancakes. And sure enough the rest of the people in the apartment came out.

"They're gonna see them. "

"I know, I am bracing myself for Sam's teasing." You sigh. You go and place the plate  pancakes you made on the table while Frank placed the bacon and sausage he made.

"G'morning, doll. I missed ya in the morning." Bucky approached you, wrapping his arms around your waist.

"I wanted you to wake up to some breakfast." You grinned and placed a chaste kiss on his lips.

"Did you finally confess your feelings?" You heard Sam. "I gotta get ahold of Tic Tac and Clint they owe- what the hell is on your neck (Y/N), is that what I think it is?" He groaned and sat at the table, everyone taking their spots.

"Hickies are messages on the body that can show ones presence on another-" Zemo spoke but was cut off by Sam.

"I do not want to know, Zemo. Lets just eat."

Breakfast was great. You were surprised Frank got along with the others, though it did take some talking to by Sam to break him out of his shell. You also could have sworn Buck and Frank had a stare down at one point but were both laughing and smiling.

You take hold of Bucks hand that was on the table and give it a light squeeze, smiling at him while he smiled back. Life was pleasant even after these emergency visits.