#jealous bea

[avatrice4l]

ENDLESS AVATRICE 🪢

[kaisollisto]

[qinchez]

need adam to GROVEL … i need to see him begging for forgiveness to be close to the detective … need to make him so jealous that his self restraint snaps

[bumblingbabooshka]

Main Three Vulcans & Their Betrotheds [Patreon | Commissions]

[treezxu]

I wouldn't even care about albedo killing dorian generally. like he was sympathetic yes but hes bot gonna let himself die yk? and dorian IS a threat. and albedo iirc has dehumanized him before so im okay with that generally im just so so mad its treated as more character for durin instead of letting dorian be his own character

if theyd just killed him off after sas i would have genuinely been more ok with it even if it was wasted potential

[myriadparacosm]

MIRIIIIIIIII TELL ME SOMETHING NICE ABOUT WHATEVER THE F YOU WANT! NOW!!!

(miri is my beta ehehheheeh you jealous)

I ate a whole book as a child.

[keithsandwich]

Who needs that height chart when your bestie can come up with it?

Keith and Yves and Bea and Mae hanging out together.

Thank you for the image, @bicayaya 🤭🥰

[deprivedmusicaljunkie]

remember when hozier posted his phone number on twitter and encouraged fans to call him? i mean i don’t remember but DO YOU

[kaaaaaaarf]

hello karf i was waiting for u to be online so i can go on with my daily stalking heh good morning

hahha good morning Bea 💖💖 I always look forward to seeing your notes in my activity tab.

[eccentric-objects]

love how ava tells bea that she acts jealous when she tries to make friends and the immediately proves that she's actually the jealous one by literally cutting her hand open bc another girl was talking to bea

[areislol]

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤhow they react to a child wooing you

pairings. various (hsr + genshin impact) x gn! reader

warnings. fluff, mentions of jealousy, established relationship

a/n. i find men getting jealous over a little kid so funny, never fails to crack me up.

wordcount. 2.4k

synopsis. how they react to seeing you getting wooed by a child

you’re casually minding your business when a bold little kid struts up to you with a flower they picked from who-knows-where. "you’re the most beautiful person i’ve ever seen!" they declare, face as bright as their words.

"awww, thank you sweetie!"

"...."

the jealous one (despite their big age)

the moment the child runs up to you with wide eyes and a flower clutched in their tiny hand, you can practically feel the temperature shift around you.

whether he's subtle about it or blatantly obvious, as they watch this scene unfold, he is most definitely NOT thrilled. he can not believe his eyes right now.

he doesn’t mean to react the way he does—it’s not like a child could ever be serious competition—but something about the moment sends a spark of possessiveness through him. his entire demeanor changes. his arms cross over his chest, his jaw tightens, and his eyes narrow slightly as he watches the scene unfold.

just what in tarnation is this stupid kid doing?!!?!?

he’s not angry at the child, but the audacity of it throws him off. really? even kids are lining up now? he thinks to himself, feeling his pride take an unexpected hit. as you crouch down to accept the flower with that sweet smile of yours, he can’t help but bristle. there’s a tug at the corner of his mouth that he tries to suppress, but the faint scowl is hard to miss

he crosses his arms, as if the whole situation is beneath their concern, but his sharp eyes never leave the child. he visibly stiffen, his body going tense as they quietly seethe.

when the child boldly proclaims their affection for you, offering their flower with the confidence only a child could muster, you suddenly hear a quiet scoff under his breath, muttering something like, “ridiculous,” before he speaks up, eyes trained on the poor child.

“a bold move, kid, but maybe aim for someone your own size next time.” his tone is teasing (is it really??), but there’s an unmistakable edge to his words, his presence looming protectively by your side.

after the child scurries off, his chest puffed up with pride at his bravery, the jealous one steps in almost immediately, closing the distance between you as if to reclaim his territory.

“so,” he starts, his tone casual but laced with pointed sarcasm, “should i be worried? do i need to watch my back now?” his eyes search yours, and though he’s trying to play it cool, there’s a hint of vulnerability in his gaze—a silent plea for reassurance.

if you laugh and tease him about being jealous, his cheeks darken slightly, and he huffs, looking away. “i’m not jealous,” he insists, though the way his arms cross tighter over his chest says otherwise.

“it’s just… what kind of guy lets someone else give his girl flowers without saying something?” his voice trails off, grumbly and defensive, but you can tell he’s mostly embarrassed by his own reaction.

later, he finds ways to reassert his place by your side, subtle but deliberate. maybe it’s the way he holds your hand a little tighter or slings an arm around your shoulders when you’re out together. he doesn’t need to say it outright, but his actions make it clear: you’re mine.

there’s a faint air of possessiveness to their actions, whether it’s the way they guide you away from the scene with a hand on the small of your back or the way they glance over their shoulder to make sure the child is gone.

if you call him out on their jealousy, the reactions are just as varied. he will deny it outright, scoffing, “jealous? of a kid? don’t flatter yourself.” but their lingering glances and subtle protectiveness give them away.

he simply shrugs, his calm voices betraying none of his innerturmoil: “it’s only natural. beauty like yours is bound to attract attention, even if it’s… unconventional.”

for the rest of the day, you’ll notice small shifts in his behaviour. he'll stand closer, touch you more often—whether it’s a hand on your arm, your waist, or your shoulder—and find little ways to remind you of their presence.

his jealousy, as amusing as it is, only serves to highlight one thing: he want you to know, beyond a shadow of a doubt, that he's the only one who deserves your attention.

— CHILDE, SAMPO, WANDERER, BLADE, aventurine, MOZE, DR. RATIO, jiaoqiu, gorou, lyney, XIAO

the (soft) supporter

when the child shyly approaches you, clutching a flower with trembling hands and nervously stammering out a confession, his reaction is immediate but far from possessive. instead of jealousy or annoyance, he watches with a warm smile, his eyes softening as he takes in the innocence of the moment.

his first thought isn’t to interrupt or overshadow but to appreciate the sincerity of the child’s feelings and your gentle response to it.

he watches the scene unfold with quiet amusement, his heart swelling as he takes in the sweetness of the moment. he doesn’t see the child as a rival or a nuisance—far from it. instead, he’s struck by how earnest and brave the little boy is for approaching you with such sincerity.

he knows how kind and patient you are, and seeing you respond with such gentle affection only reminds him of why he adores you.

as you crouch down to accept the flower, thanking the child with a kind smile, he can’t help but admire you even more. there’s a tenderness in the way you interact with the child that makes his heart ache in the best way possible.

he doesn’t feel threatened by the situation—in fact, he finds it endearing. if anything, it reminds him of how natural it is for people to be drawn to you, no matter their age.

standing just a step behind you, he chuckles softly to himself, murmuring under his breath, “well, that’s brave of him.” his voice carries a note of amused admiration, but he doesn’t feel the need to insert himself into the moment.

instead, he stands by as a quiet presence, ready to step in if the child needs a little encouragement but content to let you handle it.

if the child looks nervous or unsure, he might step closer and kneel down to meet the boy’s eye level, his tone kind and reassuring. “that’s a beautiful flower you’ve got there,” he’d say with a small smile. “you chose well.” he has no intention of stealing the spotlight or intimidating the child; he just wants to make the situation feel a little easier for everyone.

his gentle demeanor leaves no room for misunderstanding—he’s here to support you, not compete for attention.

after the child scampers off, cheeks flushed with pride and excitement, he turns to you with a soft laugh. “you’ve got quite the admirer,” he says, his tone light and teasing but laced with genuine affection. there’s no jealousy in his voice, just quiet amusement and warmth.

he even suggests preserving the flower as a keepsake, offering to press it in a book or find a small vase for it later. to him, it’s a sweet moment worth cherishing.

you thank him for being so calm about the situation, he simply shrugs, his smile soft and unassuming. “he’s just a kid,” he says, his voice full of understanding. “and honestly, it’s sweet. how could anyone not fall for you?” the sincerity in his words is undeniable, and the way his gaze lingers on you for just a second too long tells you everything you need to know about how he feels.

later, he might bring it up again in passing, unable to resist a little playful teasing. “so, should i be worried?” he asks with a grin, the corners of his eyes crinkling with amusement. “seems like you’ve got admirers lining up these days.”

despite the joke, his actions remain steady and reassuring—he never leaves your side for long and finds subtle ways to remind you of how much you mean to him. whether it’s brushing his hand against yours, standing a little closer than usual, or simply looking at you with that soft, adoring expression, his quiet support is unwavering.

for him, the moment wasn’t about competition or insecurity. it was just another reminder of how incredible you are, and how lucky he feels to be the one by your side.

— KAZUHA, ZHONGLI, WELT, GEPARD, ARGENTI, LUKA, SUNDAY, LUOCHA, JING YUAN, tighnari, THOMA, DILUC, BAIZHU

the dramatic ones

when the child approaches you, holding out a flower with all the sincerity in the world, the dramatic one immediately acts as if the universe itself has betrayed him. his eyes widen in exaggerated shock, a hand flying to his chest as if struck by an invisible arrow.

“oh, you’ve got to be kidding me!” he exclaims, his voice dripping with mock offense. he takes a step back, looking between you and the child with theatrical disbelief, as though he’s stumbled into the climax of some tragic love story.

as the child nervously stammers out his confession, the dramatic one groans, running a hand through his hair as if trying to collect himself. “really? really? even kids now?” he mutters under his breath, though loud enough for you to hear. his tone is less genuine frustration and more exaggerated exasperation, the kind that begs for your attention.

when you smile at the child and crouch down to accept the flower, his reaction shifts into full-blown melodrama. “a flower? oh no, not a flower!” he gasps, pretending to stagger backward as if this tiny gesture has dealt him a mortal wound.

“this is how it starts! next thing i know, he’ll be writing you love letters and stealing your heart!” he places a hand on his forehead, tilting his head back with a long-suffering sigh, as though the betrayal is simply too much to bear.

if the child dares to glance his way, he leans in slightly, crossing his arms with a mock-serious expression. “you’re bold, kid. i’ll give you that,” he says, narrowing his eyes playfully. “but do you have what it takes to keep them happy? hmm? flowers are just the beginning, you know.” despite his words, there’s no real malice—he’s just playing up the moment, reveling in the absurdity of the situation.

when the child finally scampers off, proud of his bravery, the dramatic one steps closer to you, shaking his head with a heavy sigh. “unbelievable. i leave you alone for one second, and this is what happens?” he grumbles, though the grin tugging at his lips betrays his amusement. “what’s next? a line of admirers waiting around the corner?”

if you laugh at his antics, it only fuels his performance. “don’t laugh! this is serious!” he says, though his voice is far from convincing. he leans in closer, his tone dropping to a mock whisper. “tell me the truth—did he win you over? do i have competition now? should i be worried?” his eyes glimmer with playful mischief, his entire demeanor practically begging you to reassure him.

later, he won’t let you forget it. “do you remember earlier? that kid? yeah, i’m still recovering,” he teases, his voice full of faux indignation. “i mean, who does that? confessing right in front of me? bold move, i’ll give him that.” he’ll recount the story to anyone willing to listen, embellishing every detail to make it sound even more dramatic.

“i had to stand there and watch my partner get swept off their feet by a four-foot-tall rival. you have no idea the pain i endured.”

despite all the dramatics, his actions make it clear that it’s all in good fun. he doesn’t actually feel threatened—in fact, he enjoys watching you smile and laugh at his antics. the entire situation only gives him another excuse to shower you with playful affection and remind you in his own ridiculous way just how much you mean to him.

— KAVEH, SAMPO, venti, luka, BOOTHILL, JING YUAN, ITTO, CYNO, kaeya, lyney, BAIZHU, MR. RECA, wriothesley

the quiet ones

when the child approaches you, holding out a flower with trembling hands and a nervous confession, he is instantly at a loss. his breath catches, and he freezes in place, wide-eyed as he tries to process what’s happening. for a moment, he just stands there, completely still, as though moving might draw attention to himself. his hands awkwardly hover near his sides, unsure whether to intervene or stay back.

his gaze darts between you and the child, his face rapidly turning pink as he realizes how sweetly you’re smiling at the little boy. the warmth and gentleness in your voice as you thank the child make his heart ache in the best way possible. he swallows hard, suddenly hyperaware of how soft and kind you are, and it only makes his cheeks burn hotter.

as you crouch down to accept the flower, he glances away, his fingers fidgeting with the hem of his sleeve or brushing through his hair in a nervous attempt to compose himself. it’s not that he’s jealous—no, he wouldn’t even know how to be jealous in this situation—it’s just that seeing someone else, even a child, shower you with admiration leaves him tongue-tied and painfully aware of his own feelings.

he mumbles something under his breath, barely audible, like, “that’s… bold of him.” but the moment the words leave his mouth, he cringes internally, wondering why he couldn’t come up with something better. instead of saying more, he stays rooted in place, trying to appear calm even as the tips of his ears betray him with their deep blush.

when the child looks at him, perhaps seeking approval, he manages a small, awkward smile and a quiet, “good choice.” his voice is soft, almost shy, and there’s a hesitant nod to go along with it. he wants to be encouraging after all, this is a child.

still, he’s not upset—he’s impressed by the child’s courage and, more than anything, endeared by how naturally you handle the situation.

after the child runs off, proud of his brave confession, the flustered quiet one exhales a shaky breath, his shoulders sagging slightly as he finally allows himself to relax. he hesitates before speaking, his voice low and slightly uneven. “that was… something,” he murmurs, a faint smile tugging at his lips as he dares to meet your eyes.

if you tease him, his blush deepens, and he looks away, rubbing the back of his neck. “i’m not flustered,” he insists, though his tone is far from convincing. he might even add, “it’s just… surprising, that’s all.” his attempt to downplay his reaction only makes him seem more endearing, his bashful demeanor a clear giveaway of how much the moment affected him.

for the rest of the day, he’s quieter than usual, replaying the scene in his mind and feeling his heart skip all over again. when he finally gathers the courage to bring it up, it’s in the form of a shy, almost hesitant comment.

“he was pretty brave, you know,” he says softly, his gaze flickering to you before quickly looking away. “but, uh… i hope you know that… well, i admire you too. a lot.”

his words are sincere, even if his voice is barely above a whisper. while he may not be as bold as the child who approached you, his quiet admiration and the way he lingers close to you for the rest of the day speak volumes.

— CAELUS, IMBIBITOR LUNAE/DAN HENG, gallagher, GEPARD, XIAO, DILUC, DAINSLEIF, ALBEDO, ALHAITHAM, NEUVILLETTE

note: got hit w baby fever sadly

taglist: @tomansimp @one-offmind @miitchiji @dainsleif-when-playable @momoewn @stygianoir @irethepotato @v4an @imetsk @fiannee @sunnyf4lls if im missing anyone please tell me because i have an inkling feeling i missed a few..

liking + following + reblogs are very much appreciated!!!

another note: not proof read so if you found any spelling/grammar mistakes PLEASE tell me

[avatrice4l]

DEAL WITH THE DEVIL

What if…

Ava, who was stuck on the other side was being brutally tortured by Reya. Now Ava is getting punished for trying to escape for the hundredth time and it’s truly hitting her… no one will be able to reach her… no one will be able to save her… and she won’t be able to get back to Bea. She was running out of hope. But as Ava is about to give up, the Halo gives out one last final push of power making it back home.

Julian was working on the machine when a blast of energy hits inside of the lab and her machine was flickering, as if it was giving off a message. “What the-” Julian cut herself off a grabbed a piece of paper. The machine was given short and long pauses. “MORSE CODE” Julian shouted, making sure to watch closely.

On the paper:

���••• • •-•• •—•

H E L P

•- •••- •-

A V A

••• •••• • •••

S H E S

•- •-•• •• •••- •

A L I V E

__________________

That is all Julian had gotten from the message because it just started repeating. So she immediately contacted to OCS and they got their to inspect the situation. But Beatrice wasn’t their.

________

Once Ava was gone for the first 4 months, she couldn’t do it anymore. She revoked her vows, and left OCS with a broken heart. She was in the lowest part of her life that she as ever been. She was filled with hatred that enraged inside of her.

One day, Beatrice got so drunk in a bar and got herself thrown out by the bouncer, into an alleyway. She sat up, starting to cry again wanting Ava by her side again.

“Everything alright?” A voice faintly spoke.

“Get away hobo, I’m not broke! I just got kicked out of the bar” Bea drunkly said.

“Then why are you crying?” The voice spoke again

“None of your business! I just- I miss her” Bea let herself begin to cry again

“What is your deepest desires,Beatrice?”

“How do you know my name-”

Beatrice looked up, and saw a pair of red eyes. She swallowed the saliva in her mouth. She knew exactly who this was.

“Y- Y- Y- Your the D-D-” Beatrice kept stuttering and couldn’t make out the words.

“The Devil”

“Oh Shit” Beatrice quick got up and dashed off

“Do you want her back? Ava, I mean of course. She is the one that is your deepest desire.” He spoke

Beatrice stopped in her tracks and turn to look at him. “Don’t you dare say her name, your just a deceiver and a manipulator!”

He began to giggle, “oh my my my Beatrice, you are a feisty one. I see why Ava took a liking to you. However, she’s still alive.”

“What are you saying devil!”

“She’s alive, but she’s slowly getting to her end. I can feel it.”

“HOW DO YOU KNOW?!”

“My dear Beatrice, I am the God of Death after all… would you like to save her?”

“H-H-How would I do that?” Beatrice was vulnerable. She wanted Ava back.. no fuck that she needed Ava back.

“Make a deal with the Devil” He smirked at Beatrice but was honest.

“And why would you want me? I don’t get it why me?!”

“Why not you? You want something that I can give you, and I want something from you.”

“Which is what huh? You give me Ava and what do you get out of this?”

“I want you to be my reincarnated Lucifer.” He smirked once again

Beatrice thought for a minute, if she does this she just sold her soul to the Devil… But she does get Ava back

“Tick Tock your running out of time Beatrice, we’ll I mean Ava is running out of time, she’s close to death”

Beatrice stopped thinking

“OK OK, let’s to this! No turning back, I NEED HER!”

“Your wish is my command, Beatrice” He bowed at her then lighting shot from the sky.

————————



[apaise]

❛ may i have this dance? ❜ bea @ robin

by all rights this evening is no different from dozens in the past. standing quietly beside a dripping ice sculpture, robin awaits as dutiful backup while the rest of the crew lines their pockets with pearl earrings and diamond cufflinks. though being ordered to stand aside again would’ve nettled robin for the greater portion of the night ( at least, before the quartet soothed her ), she finds herself distracted by other thoughts for once. for instead of keeping watch for the smallest hint of suspicion from the crowd . . .  her eyes keep returning to beatriz alone, gaze repeatedly drawn back like the tides.

though her usual leathers and buckles and gloves gift her a roguish allure, bea looks beautiful in the trappings of aristocrats too -- this time dressed in all sumptuous fabrics to blend in with the crowd. their forged identities are flimsy tonight with the event haphazardly planned mere hours before, yet -- bea never shies away from the hunt. she’s already escorting one of the richest and comeliest ladies of the evening to the dance floor as robin watches from afar. bea spins the gold-haired damsel round and round as the violins strike, the duchess’s face pink with pleasure before she trips and stumbles closer to bea. from the way she giggles so happily in bea’s arms, robin wonders if that misstep had been planned. eventually, she manages to tear her gaze away. 

she occupies herself with the music instead, focusing on the strings, forcing her thoughts to travel further from bea. the cellist is particularly talented, and she clings to the resonance. but then something about the melody takes her back to bea again, a moment by the fireside, gaping at bea’s profile illumed by the flames and wondering if the heat on her own face was from the sparks or the vision before her.

when she finally glances up again, she’s startled to find bea right before her, asking her for a dance. for a second, robin wonders if she let her imagination travel too far from reality -- and then she spies bea’s previous partner a few feet away, looking entirely crestfallen to have been so abandoned.

❝ it would be my pleasure, ❞ she curtsies in acceptance, gently taking bea’s arm soon after. robin realizes then this must be part of bea’s greater plan for the night, for dancing with her would only be taking precious time away from the thieving. 

❝ if your aim is to make your companion jealous . . .  ❞ robin starts quietly. ❝ . . . it’s working very well. ❞ her smile’s small, yet sympathetic towards the other girl. she knows what it’s like to watch bea from afar. ❝ i can feel her eyes burning at the back of my head. ❞ @feveredblurs

[captainpriceslilwife]

something silly with our boy simon because i don't write anything for him literally ever heehee! (Also I saw a work abt Price and a djungelskog that probably inspired this wrinkle in my brain, but i cannot for the life of me find it - pls let me know if you know it so i can tag for inspo!!!)

"The fuck is tha'?"

He just wanted to lie down with his girl. That's all he wanted.

Familiarity. After being gone for over a month, he's been craving a moment of peace with his sweet girlfriend. In his bed. With his sheets. And his pillow that's got his head practically etched into it from how long he's had it.

But there it is - a new fixture - right smack in the middle of his bed.

A bloody teddy bear. And a big one, at that.

"Djungelskog" You say with a proud smile, placing your hands on your hips like you haven't been completely betraying him for the past five weeks.

"Gasundheit. Now answer my question."

"His name is djungelskog."

Simon's eyebrows raise to his forehead as he glances between you and the brown blob taking up nearly half of his bed. "His? It's a bloody he?"

And you - you seem absolutely chuffed at his displeased expression. "Are you jealous?"

"Of an obese teddy bear? Please. His head is too small for his body." He punctuates his words by smacking the bear's head back unceremoniously, pulling a discontented squeak from you as you move to fix it. "Looks like a fuckin' idiot."

"He does not!"

"Stupid fuckin' name, too."

"Cut it out!" Your defense of the thing only makes him brood even more - and he's starting to look more and more like the bear himself with his hunched shoulders and bowed head - not that you'd ever tell him that. Not out loud anyway. "He is the only reason I haven't absolutely lost my mind from loneliness while you're halfway across the world, so I'm sure he would appreciate a thank you."

"Thanks." He mumbles coldly as he picks it up out of your hands and tosses him on the floor - leaving you slack-jawed and horrified. He just shrugs his shoulders, trying to steer you back towards the bed as he steps over the flaccid bear that's now sprawled out on the carpet. "Don't need 'im anymore, love. I'm here now."

"...Djungy..." You murmur quietly - a soft coo that makes Simon roll his eyes in annoyance. You came up with a bloody nickname for him, too? While he was off fighting terrorists? He can't help but scoff softly as you shimmy out of his grip to bend down and pick it back up again, giving him a disapproving look before you begin dusting him off carefully. "Don't put him on the floor, Simon."

"Fuck's sake, love. I want to lie down in my own bed."

"We can all fit!"

And now here he is - spooning you from behind while you cuddled up to junglesmog or whatever his name was.

You're sound asleep, sandwiched between your two boys without a worry in the world to ruin your peace. But Simon? Simon is glaring daggers over at that overstuffed piece of Swedish fluff.

Was he being dramatic? Probably.

But the way you cling to it so tightly is making his chest ache. He understands that you were lonely without him - probably missing him more than he could ever imagine. But he's here now...so why the hell are you still snuggled up to that thing?

Ever so slowly, he loosens your grip on the bear as carefully as he can, but you still whimper softly in your sleep when he pushes it away (a bit more aggressively than he needed to, but hey, it's not like you're awake to see). You shift around uncomfortably - actively seeking out the comfort that Simon had so rudely taken away from you - and he decides to take his opportunity to flip you over gently to face him.

Your arms immediately circle around him, and he lets out a breath when you begin to nuzzle your face into his neck and settle back down. Fucking finally.

"There she is..." He whispers softly as he presses a gentle kiss to your hairline, making you hum quietly in your sleep. "...there's my girl."

And he can finally fall asleep now that he's gotten that damn bear out of the way and you safely tucked into him - wrapped up in his arms.

Where you belong.

[lovegoodlane]

Pursuing the Prefect- 3

3.7k words

Warnings: mentions of sex, teasing, oral sex [female receiving], fingering

Summary: Fred and his prefect continue to grow closer, but their relationship grows tense when he suggests a public date (soft Fred, dom (ish) Fred)

Author's note: Here's another part! I'm trying to build up a storyline in case y'all want this short fic to continue. Enjoy <3

Link to part 1, part 2

----

Another week at Hogwarts had passed. You had spent a bit of time with Fred, sneaking kisses in empty classrooms and even spending Saturday night curled up on a blanket at the quidditch pitch. It was nothing official yet, but you were enjoying getting to know him.

It was already Thursday. The weeks were passing by in a blur. As a Sixth Year, you were focused on studying as much as you could before taking the entrance exams for an Upper School program in potions. It was difficult to get in, so you spent much of your free time cramming as much information into your brain as possible.

You walked to dinner with Cho and Beatrice, chatting about the Winter Ball coming up next month. Beatrice had been talking your ear off about Oliver Wood for the past week, and she was hoping that he would ask her to be his date.

"He's so dreamy," Beatrice swooned. "If he doesn't ask me to be his date, I might use a curse on him."

"Do you talk about anything other than Wood?" Cho snapped, clearly annoyed.

Cho's relationship with Cedric Diggory had been on the rocks. She had a bit of a jealous streak, and watching other girls fawn over Cedric got on her nerves. They'd been arguing about it nonstop for the past month.

"Cho, leave her alone," you said defensively. "She's allowed to be chuffed about Wood. You were the same with Diggory. I get that you're brassed off, but that's not Bea's fault."

Cho glared at you, huffing. She knew you were right. "Who are you going with? Seems like Adrian is your only option," she said, veering the conversation topic away from herself.

"I'm definitely not going with Adrian," you said empathically. "I don't need to have a date, I'm not worried about it."

"Maybe Fred will ask you," Beatrice teased, nudging you. "He seems pretty fond of you."

"I'd rather go to the ball with a toad than Fred Weasley," Cho asserted.

"Godric Cho, pull the stick out of your arse, will you?" you said, clearly irritated with her. 

You still hadn't filled Cho in about your situation with Fred. The only thing she would do is make snarky remarks and tell you that it's a bad idea. She was too worried about her squeaky clean reputation to see any value in associating with the Weasley twins. It pissed you off.

"I think I'm actually going to skip out on dinner, I'll grab something from the kitchen elves later. I want to get a start on my Potions assignment," you said as you had reached the Great Hall.

It was just an excuse to not have to sit through dinner with Cho. You could barely stand her recently, and taking some space felt like a good decision. 

Beatrice squeezed your hand in a goodbye, and Cho only shrugged and rolled her eyes. You turned to head for the library, wanting some peace and quiet after dealing with Cho's attitude.

You were only paces from the library when you ran in to the Weasley twins. 

"Hey birdie," Fred greeted you. "Heading back into your abyss?"

"My abyss?" you questioned.

"The library," he said matter-of-factly. "They should give you a cot so you can sleep there, would save you a trip to your dormitory."

"Have you two even seen the inside of the library? Or do your pranks occupy too much of your time?" you asked, crossing your arms and jutting out a hip. You raised your eyebrows at them expectantly.

George chuckled, enjoying the attitude that you were hurling at his brother. Very few people had the guts to stand up to Fred.

"You can show me if you'd like," Fred retorted, stepping closer to you. "Though I can't promise that I'll be much interested in doing homework, if you know what I mean."

You bit the inside of your cheek. These flirty showdowns were routine between you two, but somehow it was more embarrassing when someone was watching. Like George. But that didn't mean that you were going to let Fred win.

"I would be willing to tutor you again, Merlin knows that your grades need it," you said, closing the space between you and Fred. You reached for his tie, playing with the end. "It'll cost you, though."

George cleared his throat, an attempt at reminding you two that he was still there. It didn't matter though, both of you were locked in to this battle.

"Name a price, darling," Fred muttered, his hands ghosting underneath your robes and finding a place on your hips. 

You looked up at him, trying to soften your gaze to appear innocent. You were going to put the nail into his coffin.

You stood on your toes so you could whisper in his ear. "I keep having a dream where you bend me over a desk in Potions class. That sounds like a sufficient payment to me."

You nipped at his ear before pulling away, grinning at him sweetly as if you hadn't just whispered something filthy in his ear. Fred stared at you, a slight blush in his cheeks in response to your words. He still wasn't used to your boldness.

"Are you two going to shag in the hallway or what?" George piped up, causing his twin to turn around and give him a slap to the chest. 

"We were on our way to dinner. And I am still very hungry, in case you have forgotten," George said, directing his last sentence at Fred. It was a not so subtle reminder for him to keep things moving. 

"Did you have dinner already?" Fred asked after giving George a glare.

"No," you responded. "I was going to get something from the kitchen elves later."

"Then why don't we do that," Fred proposed. "George, you can go on to dinner. I'm sure you won't miss me."

George shrugged and offered you a wave before he headed off in the direction of the Great Hall. You hadn't been intending to spend your evening with Fred, but you could think of worse things you could be doing instead. Like sitting through dinner with Cho.

"The kitchen elves love me," Fred said sarcastically. "You'll have to do your prefect sweet talking to get them to hand over the goods."

——

After getting some sustenance from the kitchen elves, you and Fred ended up back in his dormitory. He wanted to show you the music player that Hermione had gotten him for his birthday last year. It was Muggle technology, and he found it incredibly fascinating.

"What is it called again?" you asked as you settled onto his bed. You propped yourself up with a pillow, waiting for him to work the music player.

"I think Hermione called it a record player," he replied, fiddling with the machine. "You have to put these records on it to make it play music."

He held up a few of the records in his collection. To you, they just looked like big black discs. 

Fred finally settled on a record and put it on the machine, adjusting the volume. It was something you had never heard before.

"This is from a band called Mother Mother," Fred explained. "Hermione says that they're pretty edgy."

He finally joined you on the bed, leaning up on the wall behind him. You both sat there listening to the music for a bit, content without conversation.

"I've been wondering..." Fred started, looking over at you.

"Oh no," you teased. You jokingly put your head in your hands.

"I haven't even said it yet, you git," Fred replied, pulling your hands from your face. You grinned at him, and he grinned back.

"I wanted to know how you started dating Pucey in the first place," he said.

You breathed out. You knew that Fred was curious about your relationship with Adrian. Everyone at Hogwarts knew that you were dating last year, and it took most people by surprise when they found out that you had broken up.

"Adrian's dad is my dad's boss," you answered. "We've gone on holiday together every year since we were kids. The summer before 5th year, he suddenly fancied me. That's pretty much it, I guess."

"That's it?" Fred questioned. "You didn't put him through trial after trial like you're doing to me?"

He flicked at your thigh, emphasizing his teasing. 

"Adrian was different. I was younger then, less experienced. And no one had been interested in me before," you said. 

"There's no way that can be true," Fred said, adjusting his position on the bed. "You've always been pretty. I'm sure lots of blokes have fancied you."

"If they did, none of them told me," you replied, letting out a dry chuckle. This topic was a bit of a sore spot for you. You had always felt like you weren't pretty enough, as you hadn't drawn the attention of the boys like some of the other girls at Hogwarts. But this insecurity subsided a bit as you got older. Who needed attention from a boy when you could have good grades?

You and Fred sat in silence for a moment. He seemed to be thinking about what to say next. 

"Of all of the blokes at Hogwarts, you chose a Slytherin?" Fred asked, half joking and half serious.

You slapped at him. "I don't care what House someone is in. I dated Adrian because he fancied me, and I was tired of all of my friends having boyfriends. Adrian is smart, and he's good looking. And whether you like to admit it or not, he's cracking at quidditch."

"Cracking is a bit of an overstatement," Fred replied. "Did you even fancy Pucey then?"

You shrugged. "I liked the companionship. We had always been friends. It wasn't difficult to turn it into something more. And I wanted to keep up with everyone else at Hogwarts who was snogging and shagging anyone they could get their hands on. Adrian felt like a safe option."

"So it sounds like you never really liked him," Fred said, leaning his head on your shoulder.

"I liked him, but I didn't love him," you answered. "He really loved me. And I still feel bad about that. But I just....my heart wasn't in it."

"Is that why you broke up?" he asked.

"Part of it. He wanted things to get more serious. Slytherin pureblood families are really intense about dating and marriage, and he wanted to consider next steps. I wasn't ready, and I wanted to focus on academics," you said. "I didn't want to break his heart. And I know that he still really cares about me, but I'm not cut out for a life like that."

"What, you mean that you don't want to be the next Narcissa Malfoy? I can't imagine why not," Fred teased, poking at your side. 

"Shut it," you replied, slapping at his hand. "I'm not made to be a pureblood trophy wife who pops out perfect pureblood babies. I want a career."

"That makes sense," Fred said. "You've got enough brains to do anything. So what would you want to do?"

"I want to go to Upper School for Potions," you said. Every time you talked about it, it sounded far away and impossible. "I don't know where I'll go from there. I could make potions for hospitals. Or maybe I'll teach, I'm not sure."

"You'll be cracking at teaching," Fred said, a smile stretching across his face. "My marks in Potions were way better when you tutored me."

A slower song started to play from the record player, and Fred popped up onto his feet. He extended a hand toward you.

"Dance with me?" he asked, giving you a wink.

You tried to fight the smile that started to spread across your lips, but it was too late. You accepted his hand, wiggling off the bed and joining him.

He guided you to the center of his dormitory, placing one of your hands on his shoulder and holding the other. His hand found its way down to your waist.

You began swaying together to the music. It was a bit awkward and clumsy at first, but after a bit, it felt romantic.

"Do you have a date to the Winter Ball yet?" Fred asked.

"Wouldn't you like to know," you teased him, squinting your eyes and scrunching your nose.

"I would actually, because I'd like you to be my date," he said.

"I'll have to think about it," you replied, unwilling to give him the satisfaction of an easy "yes".

"What, do you need a grand gesture?" he asked, squeezing your hip. A lopsided grin was on his lips. 

"The only thing I need is time to think about it," you replied, cocking your head slightly at him.

You leaned your head onto his chest, finally closing the small gap between the two of you. You stayed like this for at least one whole song.

"Birdie?" Fred said, a question clearly on the horizon.

"Yes, Fred?" you replied, your cheek still pressed against his chest.

"We don't have to talk about it if you're not ready, but it's something to consider," he started.

"You're making me nervous," you said, pulling back so you could look up at him.

"No, it's nothing to be nervous about," he soothed. "I wanted to talk about next steps. Y'know, what you're comfortable with and what you're not."

"What do you mean?" you asked.

"Well....we seem to have a comfort level. We snog, mess around a bit. But I wanted to see how you feel about anything more," he said. "And I don't want this to feel like I'm pressuring you, I want to know so I don't overstep."

You could feel your cheeks heating up. Talking about sex in any context made you feel a bit flustered. At least Fred was being polite about it.

"Uhm...well...I'm not sure," you answered. "It feels like a big step."

"I know, birdie," Fred said, his hand moving to your back to rub soothing circles. "There's no rush. I want us to be able to talk about these things if we're going to keep seeing each other."

"Right..." you said, still feeling a bit sheepish. "I just...Adrian and I had sex, but that was only after he said that he loved me. I'm not sure that I'm made for casual hookups like some other people are."

"And that's absolutely okay," Fred replied. "I don't need to shag to know how much I like you."

You looked up at Fred. He was staring at you with those soft eyes again. His patience and willingness to communicate only made him more attractive to you. 

You put your hands on either side of his face, standing on your toes to kiss him. His hands found your waist, pulling you in as close as possible.

Your kisses were sweet, and it felt like Fred was reassuring you that he didn't just see you as a shag. His feelings were genuine and his intentions were pure. Well....pure might not be the best word, but his intentions were good.

Your hands found their way down to his shirt collar, and you tugged at it. You pulled him back towards his bed, pushing him back onto it. You straddled him like you had the very first time you were in his dormitory. 

He kept kissing you, his hands wandering up your thighs. Everywhere he touched felt like an electric shock, and you were dying for more. 

"Freddie?" you said, interrupting your make out session.

"Yes?" he replied, a tad breathless. 

"I need you to eat me out," you commanded, looking him dead in the eye.

Fred smirked. "Your wish is my command, birdie."

He flipped you on your back, propping your head up on his pillows. He resumed kissing you, biting at your lower lip while his hands gripped at your thighs.

Fred worked his way down, undoing your tie and unbuttoning your shirt in what felt like seconds. Your cheeks flushed as he took in your light pink bra. You hadn't considered that Fred would see you bra when you put it on this morning, otherwise you would have chosen something different. 

"Pink? I love it," Fred commented with a smirk. He kissed along your collarbones and down to your chest, leaving a love bite between your boobs. 

He made his way down to the top of your skirt. "I think the skirt is going to stay on this time."

His words were enough to make you want to clench your thighs together. He could feel your body tensing in desperation, so he graciously positioned himself between your legs.

Fred kissed along your thighs all the way down to your knickers. His fingers played at the waistband.

"You still want this?" he asked.

"Please Freddie," you whined.

He pulled your panties down your legs, tossing them onto the floor next to the bed. He worked your skirt up just a bit so he could see what he was doing.

Fred's tongue darted out, teasing you. You almost yelped, gripping onto the sheets to try to keep it together. You were so desperate for him that it felt embarrassing. 

His tongue worked around your clit, purposefully avoiding where you wanted him most. He loved the whimpers that were coming out of your mouth. He knew exactly how desperate you were. 

Fred squeezed your thigh with one hand and brought the other to your clit, rubbing circles with his thumb. His tongue worked its way down to your entrance, and your back arched off of the bed in response.

"You like that, darling?" he asked, pausing for a moment.

You only nodded in response, unable to get any words to come out. Fred resumed, his thumb playing with your clit and his mouth teasing your entrance. 

He pulled his mouth off of you, dragging a long pointer finger down to your entrance. 

"Is this okay?" he asked before going any further.

"Yes. Please," you answered, burning for his touch.

Fred's finger teased along your entrance before finally pushing it into you, a whine escaping your mouth. He worked it in and out slowly, kissing your thighs and leaving love bites.

"More please," you begged, feeling a knot tighten in your stomach.

Fred obliged, plunging another long finger into you. He picked up the pace, and you were rocking back and forth to meet his fingers. 

A number of profanities fell from your lips as you chased your release. Fred was admiring the sight in front of him, relishing in finally having his fingers inside of you.

"Such a good girl for me," Fred murmured. "So gorgeous like this."

You moaned in response, so close to your release. Fred's fingers had found the trigger spot inside of you, and he pounded against it again and again. 

You finally finished, your back arching off of the bed. Fred slowed his fingers, working you down from your high. He kissed the inside of your thigh.

"Fuck, you're perfect," Fred commented, admiring your form as you tried to catch your breath. 

He kissed a trail down your thigh, nipping at your hip bones. He left another love bite just above your hip bone. He loved marking you up, and secretly, you loved it too. His marks were nothing that you couldn't conceal with a glamor charm when needed.

Fred returned to your center, licking a stripe from your entrance up to your clit. You groaned at the overstimulation.

"Think you have another one in you?" Fred asked, massaging your thighs with his hands.

"You're going to be the death of me," you replied, ruffling his hair with your hand.

"That sounds like a yes to me," he smirked, placing one more kiss on your thigh before returning his attention to your clit.

He alternated between sucking on it and playing with it with his tongue, driving you absolutely mad. Your nails dug into his scalp, urging him for more.

"Fuck Freddie," you whined. 

You pulled at his hair, causing him to groan into you. Your hips started to buck up to meet his mouth, trembling at how sensitive you were after your first orgasm.

Fred was determined to make you finish again. One of his hands wandered up to your chest, sneaking under your bra. He pinched and played with your nipple, forcing moans and whimpers out of your mouth. 

"Freddie...so close," you breathed out, struggling to form words. 

Ten more seconds was all you needed to find your second release, trembling and whimpering as you finished. You panted in disbelief at the boy who was able to get you to finish twice. You had a hard enough time finishing once.

Fred kissed along your stomach, working his way back up to your mouth. He finally kissed you on the lips, and you gripped at his hair to pull him even closer.

He pulled back, grinning at you. "Good?" he asked. 

"Don't even," you slapped at his shoulder, giggling at him. 

His head came down to rest on your chest. You ran your fingers through his hair, placing a kiss on the top of his head. 

"I want to take you out on a date," he stated, nuzzling further into the crook of your neck.

"Where?" you asked, still playing with his hair.

"There's a Hogsmeade trip this weekend, how about then?" he said, picking up his head to look at you.

"I'll have to think about it," you replied.

"You are going, right?" he asked, sounding almost confused.

"Yes," you answered. Not a single Hogwarts student would want to miss out on a trip to Hogsmeade. Not even you. 

"Then why not?" he asked, pushing the issue.

You readjusted so you could sit up. Fred sat up too, putting his back against the wall behind his bed. 

"I haven't told all of my friends about you yet," you admitted. "Spending time together at Hogsmeade would make us look like...well, a couple."

"And you have a problem with that?" he pressed on, sounding a bit hurt. 

"No, well....I just like how things are now. It's private. It's just you and I without other people getting into our business," you said with a shrug. 

"So you don't want people to know that you've been seeing me," he stated, turning his head so he wouldn't have to look at you.

"No, Fred," you replied, reaching for his hand. He pulled it away. "I'm just not sure that I'm ready for something so public after Adrian. I need a bit more time."

"You're willing to sneak around and hook up in my dormitory but you can't be seen with me at Hogsmeade?" he said, now very clearly upset. 

"Fred...." you trailed off, trying to find something to say. You agreed, it did sound that way. But you just weren't quite ready for a public commitment. The whole school would be buzzing, and you liked to remain out of the spotlight when it came to gossip. 

"Please, just go," Fred said, still refusing to look at you. You sat there frozen for a minute, absorbing his words. You quickly dressed yourself, pulling your robes on and grabbing your back pack.

You headed for the door, turning over your shoulder before you left. "I'm sorry, Fred," was all you could say before turning the knob and walking out.

----

Next part

[pocket-deer-boy]

One of the reasons night in the woods is so satisfying is like, it takes all these tropes about struggling young adulthood and you see all their relationships with everyone in town straining For Some Unspoken Reason and then it just names the horror. The horror is capitalism, it’s the reason Bea is jealous of and angry about Mae going to college and then leaving, it’s the reason Greg comes across as so irresponsible to Angus, it’s the reason Mae has such a hard time telling anyone why she left college. They can’t fucking afford to live, and if they didn’t have to worry about finances, none of their relationships would be as strained as they are.