#|| It'd be so funny if I had a dream of him trying to catch me because I can't run to save my life and he's like. A cheetah compared to me.

[unstablerk800]

|| I need to go to sleep now. I had too much excitement.

Literally the excitement:

(I'm always fascinated that this exists, and I saw it with my naked eyeballs. 🔥)

Goodnight y'all, sweet dreams (I will have some I hope 🙃)!

[yowyowyaoi]

Deidara's Daily Texts from the Akatsuki, Part Two

From Itachi:

I swear I'm not mad just give it back

You're STILL not over that?!

What are you even shaving? You don't have a single hair on your face!

Not my business who you date, just keep them from fighting all the time!

That's funny because Hidan said it was you, asshole.

I never ask you questions like that about Sasori, do I?!

You better hide, Kakuzu's going around collecting rent

God you're a worse gossip than Tobi!

I know it was you my whole room smells like clay!

That's a really lewd thing to say ... are you really hitting on me or are you just drunk off your ass?

Yeah but considering I use nothing in mine and you use like 200 products in yours, I'd say mine is better.

Stop it. You're not a pet person.

Okay can you just come with me? I don't ever ask you for favors do I?!

Pay me back what you owe me first.

From Hidan:

Yeah but I'm hotter. Like WAY hotter.

He loves to say stupid shit like that, he's not being serious.

Bet his dick is bigger tho.

That's literally the most stupid shit I've ever heard. We're MEANT to eat meat, fucker!

Yeah but if shark dick catches us he'll beat our asses and Kakuzu already said he's not putting me back together if it happens again!

I'll pray to Jashin for you, you pathetic atheist.

Let's get the fuck out of here and get something to eat. Kakuzu's sleeping I can swipe his wallet!

Me and you? In your DREAMS, kid. You couldn't handle this immortal dick.

Why tf would I care about that? Tits or not me and you are brothers, man.

Crablegs.

No, steak. Rare-rare. Still mooing.

Fuck a vegetable. Load it up with meat.

No wait corn is good but make sure it's seasoned with the meat blood.

That cunt did not beat my ass he caught me by surprise! I'll kill him next time I see his ugly face!

From Konan:

I don't remember my siblings so you all are it for me.

When a girl asks how old you think she is always answer like 10 years younger than you actually think! But seriously, 40?! FORTY??

Did you always know or did it take you a little bit to figure it out?

Rose petal or honeysuckle. Sometimes lilac if it's not too overwhelming.

It's a complicated situation for sure. They both feel something strongly for you but if my opinion counts? I'd stay with Sasori. At least you know what to expect from him, and I think he genuinely loves you.

I've narrowed it down to you or Hidan. If you confess I'll go easy on you. :-)

Please be gentler with him. He may hide it but he's gotten really fragile these last few months and he's in pain almost constantly.

Threatening to "beat people's asses" isn't my style. I go for the silent kill.

Wow, HE did that for YOU? That's interesting.

Take it up with Kakuzu. He's supposed to provide you all with extra money for exactly these types of things.

I would just do it, Dei. Be grateful your punishment is so light compared to what you did.

Are you two serious? You realize we're all trying our hardest NOT to attract negative attention?!

Perkier if it's chilly out ;)

I thought about it but I've had it this length for forever. It'd probably look weird long.

Only if you promise to sit still this time. I'm not gonna have you complain if it gets smudged again.

From Kakuzu

Brat. Stop.

I don't give a shit if you don't like him. He's valuable and this organization can't afford to lose him. So SUCK IT UP.

The waxing poetic was one thing but the actual poetry was nauseating.

That's coming out of your paycheck.

How is that an "emergency expense"?!

I don't care what you feel it is, "unfair" or not EVERYONE is expected to contribute to the bills. You use the lights? You pay. You take showers? You pay. You eat the food? You. PAY.

I know you two are friends. You have fairly good ideas about what he likes. Help me and I'll take off that debt you owe me from last month.

Sasori can do that for you, can't he??

Nice try, kid, but you still owe me. And you couldn’t handle my immortal love anyway.

From Tobi

I'd ask you to come with but Itachi thinks you'll try and blow him up while he's asleep.

Diabetes was just made up by assholes who don't want us to eat all the good sugar!

He's really so selfish he wouldn't let me borrow you for one night?

Hidan said it was you ...

I KNOW you like older men! Hey what if I told you I was 31, what then??

Of all the things that could be under this mask, why would "sharingan" be one of your guesses? That's ridiculous Senpai!

Come on Senpai! Leader would be mad at first but I think everyone would like a puppy!

Just tell him that you were only home 10 days this month so you should only have to pay 1/3 of the rent

If you want to but Hidan would probably call you a lot of names for wearing it

Marry me and I'll carry you everywhere all the time. It's a good deal!

Let's see if one of the others will trade with us, I hate going to really cold places

Try if you want to but Konan hit me so hard last time I saw stars for three days

Can you make me a bomb shaped like a scythe? Hidan is getting on my nerves.

From Zetsu

It's complicated, but everybody's blood has a distinct scent. Your's smells like lava and ash. It's very unique.

"Love" or not I'd watch my back, child. You'd make a prettier puppet for him than anyone else.

The years don't go by but centuries do.

Come now, you could have left SOME of those bodies in-tact for me!

I can't imagine that it would matter in the long run.

If you three don't stop attracting so much attention we'll have to pick up and move yet again!

I can tolerate human food but it doesn't compare to humans as food.

Neither. Neither of them is a suitable match for you. I'd run as far as I could from both of them.

Thank you for the offer but I don't believe your moisturizer would be effective on my plant skin.

No, not especially. Things are much the same to me.

If Kakuzu said no then there's no point in asking Leader. Kakuzu holds the money with an iron fist and Nagato has never once interfered with his decisions.

A bit more rest and some decent food would do you a world of good.

From Nagato

Then I must not understand true art because all I can see is property damage and unwanted negative attention being drawn towards our organization.

I understand your frustration but please continue to work with him. I need Sasori to stay here and you're the only one Tobi will listen to.

Oh? It seems it may be time I had a talk with you young ones then.

I see no need for further recruits.

Yes, thank you. Konan used it on my hair and it worked wonderfully.

I'm aware you don't like him but please endeavor to coexist in this group with him. Also remember how precarious his health is before you pull another stunt like the one you and Hidan did yesterday.

I won't stand in the way of your personal goals but surely you realize how extreme self-detonation sounds?

I got you all these phones as a way to communicate efficiently with your partners and with the entire group over long distances. NOT to play games. Kakuzu tells me the phone bill is $200 over it's usual amount due to unathorized games and extra features. If this keeps up I'll take them back.

Next time please be sure you're checking who you're sending explicit pictures to. I assume that was meant only for Sasori's eyes? Now I have Tobi and two others ready to kill him to be your partner.

From Kisame

I shouldn't admit it but it WAS very funny.

But what would be the purpose? Samehada steals chakra, aesthetics don't matter.

I can't tell the future but I can guess that if he's stayed this long, then he probably means to stay with you for life.

Yeah well if one more "accidentally" goes off under his window while he's napping I'm going to make a sandwich of your fingers, kid.

I suppose that would be fun but good luck getting the money from Kakuzu.

I can't even imagine the lives they live. It's really more merciful for them that we extract their demon and send them to the afterlife.

Our relationship is so much more than that but all you immature brats ever ask about is the sex aspect. Shameful.

There's no way he bought that fresh, I can smell it all the way back in my room!

Wear your cloak and perhaps borrow Sasori's as well, it's extremely windy and chilly.

Have you considered a haircut, maybe? Or to dye it black like my Itachi's?

Lol relax it was a joke, no need for threats.

From Sasori

I did get them. Beautiful, but Kakuzu would kill you if he knew you were using these phones for such lewd purposes.

A "magic cure" doesn't beat eating right, going to bed at a decent hour, and exercising once in a while, brat.

Funny how they all think I'M the pervert here when YOU'RE the one who came at ME so aggressively. Brat.

I can think of a much better use for all of those pretty mouths of yours, Dei. Come see me and I'll show you what I mean.

Maybe I need to get you a dictionary for Christmas. Because you STILL don't seem to understand what "covert" and "stealth" mean.

Yeah well you nearly dying because of your own carelessness isn't what I'd call fun. So stop it before I end you myself.

I would never.

"<3" is not a heart. I don't care what idiots say. A real human heart is NOT shaped like that. I'll bring you one of my anatomy textbooks so you can see for yourself.

Yes, I suppose. But don't make it a habit please.

Your breathing sounded strange. Come see me for a checkup. Now.

I don't care for when he sends us on missions to cold places. Bad for you and puts a lot of wear on Hiroku.

Trust me, you DO snore. Like a steam engine.

Why you can't simply ignore him, I'll never understand.

Your eating habits are atrocious, brat.

You're quite the silly one, aren't you?

Mm. You know it's not in me to be jealous. But. If I *ever* see him touch you like that again it'll be the last time his fucking hand is attached to his body. You're MINE.

It's just baffling to me that you won't do it. You'd be the centerpiece of the entire collection! Come on I KNOW you love attention!

I wouldn't trust Hidan around something like that.

Goodnight, my sweet prince. See you in the morning ... if the poison doesn't take you out :-)

As per the Inbox request of @tulipunainenruusu 😊

[spotaus]

Gonna be sick (New Age thoughts are consuming me-)

Just a quick jot of ideas to ruminate on for myself lol.

1) Geno, Dust, and Reaper drabble. Whether that's expanding on their first visit from Dust's pov or that snippet where his shoulder gets obliterated idk. Maybe even Killer's teasing as a b-plot. Just. Those three make me feel big emotions and I feel crazy-

2) Cross rooting around in the castle on his spy mission. If I were more interesting it would be proceeded by a fluff drabble about the month or two he sticks around to prepare, either from Blue or Dream's perspectives even, but I'm not that cool. Instead, probably gonna jump-cut straight into the Him Arriving bit.

3) Blue and Dream meeting. Dream is so so distressed upon arriving to this allied kingdom, and the people are kind enough, but everything is so different and scary and his brother, his *brother* is different abd sent him away. Now he's alone. He's holding together poorly, but tries to at least keep up appearances and train. (Training helps distract him) and during a training session with one of the Knights, he's introduced to Blue. The squire about his age who is always around for Dream's combat lessons. And. The squire who runs into Dream when he's had enough and makes a reckless choice.

4) Rewrite the first drabble (the starting chapter if you will-) I need to add in the dynamics I've made since then, and also slip in Ccino.

5) Nightmare getting his first cold since becoming young again. His immune system is trash, now that the pollens and germs are hitting him after years of being atrophied beneath the magic. So ofc he catches a cold very. Very quickly. And who is better to help him than Ccino, and who's better to keep watch than Cross? (Just wanna write a ting of angst in this one too.)

6) Dust. This would *probably* be a world building piece that focuses on Dust before he was imprisoned, and then how he was caught, and how he ended up with Nightmare. In theory this could span up until Killer was put in charge of Dust, but I can imagine it would stop after Dust accepts Nightmare's offer of work, then continue somewhere after.

7) Ccino-centric one! I just need to get an idea of a single day of his. Maybe one of his few days off? Just slice of life, him enjoying the day, paying tribute, visiting friends in the city.

8) Cross and Lust domestic drabble. Along the same vein, I just think a quick look into their lives would be nice. Maybe from Lust's perspective, since Cross kinda has red alarms going off in his brain because he's full of puppy love, and while it's definitely not shallow/all he thinks about, it is very... him. Lust is a lot more composed about it.

9) Same vein again, Crop and Horror. I like to think Crop was one of the folks Horror visited while trying to find fixes for farms. Crop was abroad for a long time and recently came back when he heard of his brother's plight with the messed up farm. The two of them did a lot of brainstorming and, in return for using their plot as an experimental lot, they were paid handsomely by the royal treasury. Horror and Crop were in contact for a *long* time, and eventually it became a consensual workplace relationship lmao. Just one of Horror's days off he goes home to visit his family, and finds Crop was there to visit as well as a surprise!

10) Away from Ship stuff, Error perspective, post running away! Probably from Geno leaving up until he was hired by Nightmare. Error is a chaotic little shit, but he was also like. 11 or smth. Miracle he wasn't killed. He's crafty and silly and so so sad.

11) Cross and his fucked up dog. That borzoi haunts the narrative in the funniest way physically possible. It's such a funny dog, and I think it'd be such a menace and very fun to write about Cross losing it and panicking. Maybe. Maybe Dog perspective even.

12) Some scene. Dunno which one. Cat perspective. Limited knowledge, only seeing eyes. Would be pretty cool.

13) Dust with his horses. Maybe the wild one he tamed even!

[h0n3yk1tt3n]

The origin story of my unhinged big bro Jake hc that exactly one person asked for like months ago

It spawned from an interaction with one of my friends during Pirates of Penzance rehearsals back in 2018. I made some sort of joke that prompted her to cover my mouth, which naturally I licked. She recoiled for a second before recovering my mouth and saying something to the effect of "Do it, I have younger sibling."

Blorbo brain activated and I thought "Huh, it'd be funny if this happened with the squip squad." The plan was for it to appear as a banter scene for a fic but that fell through, as did my mental health. I had decided that Jake would be the one covering Jeremy's mouth (projecting at its finest) and wanted to think of a surprising number of siblings for Jake to have that were spaced out in age in such a way that most kids wouldn’t necessarily connect them easily. So I landed on the line "Do it, I'm the oldest of five."

But Jake is all but canonically an only child! How does that make sense? THROUGH CONVOLUTED CONSPIRING AND WACKY CHARACTER ANALYSIS/PROBABLY MAKING UP SOME SELF INDULGENT BULLSHIT :D like i said, the origin was entirely ridiculous and was Not based in canon at the time, but I like to think Parts of it Could Make Sense Kinda based on certain aspects of his character.

The idea of Jake needing to grow up faster because he's on his own more often than not is solid on its own, but needing to take care of younger siblings too?? That's definitely gonna exacerbate the pressure to be good enough for others, especially kids that depend on you. We see that he can be serious and sweet when it matters ("I don't wanna do every extracurricular at school. I just wanna do yours.") but most of the time he doesn't take things seriously or responds to them in a childish way (big blowout parties to avoid being alone in a big empty house), both of which would demonstrate roles as caregiver and fun older brother to play with.

But wait, Jake says "the house is empty," during Upgrade. Where are four other kids gonna be? This is where it gets convoluted bc Nostalgia-Fueled Coping (aside from these kids having other friends.) So Jake is gonna have some other family that catches wind of what's going on, right? In the case of my fever dream, it's his grandparents. They see that this high school kid is Struggling™️ and just take the kids into their place because we can't have horses babysitting dogs right? So Jake should just move in with them and Be A Kid right?

Weeell now he's got a slight responsibility complex and has to look after their parents' empty house just to make sure nothing bad happens. And so that he can tell them whats up when they come home and only find 1/5 kids there. Featuring projected insertion of my friend's mastiff Alice that he also has to look after bc I based a lot of Jake's humor off of him + his sister ok I TOLD YOU IT WAS SELF-INDULGENT

But he's got a dog! He's not alone! Pets are great and all but they are Not a substitute for friends or parents.

So why does he get all reckless and start throwing giant ass parties if he's trying to be the responsible one? He's a teenager, he runs on hormones, poor coping mechanisms, and "fuck it."

Sooo where were the siblings on Halloween??? Out trick-or-treating :)

So they just came back to a burning house and a broken brother??? :)))

I know I'm tripping on EVERY DRUG with this but hey. I told you the origin. It didn't start out that deep. It just became a thought experiment that I got way too attached to.

[crashdevlin]

Losses and Gains 1- She Deserves Better

Author’s Note: This is the first chapter of Losses and Gains, the second part of To Have it All. This is Something More...from Jensen's side!

Summary: Jensen doesn't take it well when Y/n catches the eye of a certain British gentleman. 

Pairing:  Jensen x Reader, background Reader x Tom Hiddleston

Word count: 4149

Story Warnings: open marriage, mentions of depression and heartbreak, the beginnings of bad things

~~~~

I knew. When I watched Y/n ride away in that Uber, I knew that Danneel had broken something. Months of getting closer, being in love with each other, building some secret something with her...all torn down with one catty, jealous comment from my wife.

I was hoping she'd come back around but I knew that I had one shot to see her and bring her back to me. I was hoping that showing her that I was still in love even when she was clear across the continent would work. I called her every night after we wrapped. The calls were short, fifteen minutes, usually, but I managed to make her laugh at least once a day. It was a good thing. Made me feel like there was still a connection between us.

I spent my days sad and my nights dreaming of her. I missed her so much and I knew, I knew it in my heart, that she was pulling back and that I was at risk of losing her. Losing her...well, that was going to be the worst thing I could think of.

When she went to Atlanta, I was excited. She'd be alone. She'd be able to remember how being with me felt. At least that was the way I thought it'd go. I mean, especially when she actually called me at noon on the first day of her shooting with Marvel. "Hey. How's your first day on a major motion picture going?"

“Uh, it’s good. My hair is super red. My voice is already tired," she said as I sat in my recliner in my trailer. "You remember when Rich was directing and he made us do the French Toast scene thirteen freakin’ times? Nothing compared to these Marvel guys.”

I chuckled as I remembered the day a few months ago. “You havin’ fun, though? Meet any of the biggies, yet?”

“Yeah, actually. Most of my scenes are with Tom.”

“Which one?” There were several Toms in the MCU so that was funny to me.

She laughed and I smiled. She hadn't really laughed since she went home...not with me, anyway. “Hiddleston. Sinthea has most of her scenes with Loki. I have a small interaction with Stephen Strange and  two tiny scenes with Thor, but that’s it. So, I’m sadly not gonna have any screen time with Robert Downey Jr. or Sebastian Stan." She sounded so excited. "Oh, they did tell me something cool and super-secret-keep-your-mouth-shut. I get the mid-credits scene.”

I was filled with pride for her. That was a big fucking deal. “No shit?”

“No shit. Well, me and Tom, but… it’s Sinthea’s reveal, which I can’t go into because it's super-secret-keep-your-mouth-shut.”

“So, you're already callin' him by his first name, huh? I knew they’d take to you as fast as we did.”

There was a long moment of silence before she gave a little sigh. "Yeah, um, about that…Tom asked me for drinks after we wrap tonight.”

Drinks. I knew what that meant. He was making his move on her. Already, he was making his move. He hadn't even known her six hours! And she was going for it? “You said 'yes’?” I asked.

“Of course, I did," she practically squeaked.

I got irrationally pissed off. I was losing her. I was losing her to Tom fucking Hiddleston on the day they met each other and there was nothing I could do about it. But I wasn't pissed off at her…no, all that anger was directed at Dee and Hiddleston. “No, you’re right. I've got no claim to you, no right to stop you from your life. Hell, I’ve got a wife. Look, I gotta go. Bob’s calling. Talk to you later.” I was shaking as I hung up the phone. I literally hung up on her.

I jumped up and started pacing back and forth in the living room area, trying to deal with the anger. I threw my phone at the plush back of the recliner and rubbed my hand across my face as it bounced and hit the floor. What was I going to do? Was there anything I could do? I was stuck. I could only sit back and hope the man wasn't as charming as he seemed. There had to be something wrong with him, right?

"Wishful thinking, first of all. He's a complete fuckin' gentleman, by all accounts," Jared said when I told him what soured my mood. "Besides...this could be a good thing for her! She deserves a nice guy!"

"I'm a nice guy!" I argued. "She already has a-"

"Jensen, she doesn't have a nice guy in her life that can be a public part of her life and she deserves someone who won't treat her like a dirty little secret."

I clenched my jaw and my fists. "I have never treated her like a dirty-"

"The first rule of your relationship is that I'm the only person other than your wife who can know about Y/n. That is, exactly, treating her like a dirty fucking secret." Jared shrugged. "Come on, Ackles. Don't act like you don’t know how this played out for her. I told you how it was affecting her and how much worse it could get. You're lucky, and she's lucky, that she found someone else before either of you got in too fucking deep."

I scoffed. "She's not his yet. I can still pull this out. I can still fix-"

"Jensen!" His tone snapped me out of my monologue and I looked up to catch his eyes. "Stop. Just fucking stop. She's not his yet, but she's not yours either. She put up a wall and you need to respect that shit. Call your wife and work on fixing that instead."

"Are you kidding me right now? Dee is the reason that Y/n was emotionally available for this asshole to swoop in and turn on the charm! Why would I want to fix anything with-"

"Because she's your wife and you love her and she needs to be more important than your ex-mistress, okay?" Jared patted my shoulder and walked away as I processed his words.

He was right. Jared usually is when it comes to other people's lives. But I didn’t want him to be right. I just wanted to have both of the women I loved. Is that so fucking wrong?

So I switched my flight to Atlanta. I was planning to fly out Friday night to get there for her birthday Saturday, but I needed to get there as soon as possible to mitigate the damage.

Tom Hiddleston. Why did it have to be Tom Hiddleston? Why did she have to be interested in him? All that Loki energy rolling off of him.

I spent the rest of the day pissed off. Luckily, it worked with the episode since Dean was having to deal with Jack and spent half the episode irritated. We wrapped at about 1 in the morning. I was exhausted, cold, and still pissed as I trudged toward my trailer. I was planning to call her and leave a message before I went back to the condo...but my phone rang before I could get there.

"Hey." From the heavy way she said the greeting, I could tell she was drunk. It was 4 am in Atlanta and she was drunk dialing me. "Jensen, I’m drunk.”

“I can hear that," I said as I opened the trailer and stepped up into it.

“I’m drunk and I’m alone.” Alone now or alone completely? “I didn’t go back to Tom’s hotel with him, which...he's in the Ritz, by the way...because I was left with the distinct impression that you are mad at me and I don’t want you mad at me, Jay.”

Of course she thought I was mad at her and not him. She's got the self-esteem of an abused puppy. I couldn’t let her keep thinking my issue was with her so I scratched my head and sighed. "I ain’t mad at you. I know I…” Words. What words are the right words? Why do I struggle to say the right shit to her so often? “I’m married. We aren’t dating. I knew we were temporary when we started it." Which was painful but true. "I just didn’t expect you to leave me as soon as you…left Vancouver.”

“I’m…sure it’s temporary with him, too. It fuckin’ always is. Look, I’m not going anywhere, Jay. I…I’m part of the Family now, right? Even if Tara gets killed off, I’m part of the Supernatural Family. Even if we aren’t together, I’m gonna be around. Right? You aren’t gonna cut me off just because-”

“No! God, no!" The very idea of it...never...I could never. "Come on. Don’t…look, I’m not mad at you. I just really wish I could give you what you deserve.”

“I deserve a chance with Tom. Since I can’t have you…I deserve Tom. But I deserve to be your friend, too. Please, don’t take that away from me.”

I didn't think I could watch her be with him. I couldn’t stand idle as she started a relationship with him. I knew it was going to hurt too much, but still I said, “I won’t. I’m here for you. Promise.”

“Good. I have to get some sleep so…Jay. Don’t hang up on me again. It hurt.”

I shook my head at myself. I never wanted to hurt her. “I know. I’m sorry. Hey, but I’ll see you at the Atlanta Con, right? You don’t have any shooting for this weekend, do you?”

“Yeah. Definitely. The director cleared me for that weekend before I even got here.”

“Okay, great. I’ll see you then, Baby Girl.”

“Good night, Jay.”

I bit my lip as I disconnected the call. At least that hadn't changed. She still called me 'Jay' and it still made my heart thud out an extra beat.

~~~~

Clif didn't like the idea of me going to the convention alone. I was supposed to be with Jared. I was supposed to stay guarded. But I promised him that I was just going to sneak into the green room and surprise Y/n and then I was gonna grab a drink with her back at the hotel. He insisted on coming along anyway.

I made it to the con hotel about a half hour after karaoke started and I found the green room by memory from the last time we did a con in Atlanta and from there, I had a smitten volunteer take me to the backstage area. I could hear Y/n's voice as we approached. She was singing a duet, some Meghan Trainor thing I had heard her sing in the kitchen while making dinner. But instead of her singing the male and female like she did when she was frying chicken, there was another voice coming through the speakers.

I was, for the first time, irrationally pissed off at her. She brought him to our space. Conventions were ours. Conventions were for the Family and she brought this guy she barely fucking knew into our place.

I went back to the green room and started pacing. "Can you believe that shit? She brought him to a convention! She should know better! He's not one of us! Why would she bring- isn't it bad enough that he's stolen her away?" Clif just shook his head at me and went out into the hallway. He was not shy about the fact that he was on the 'let it go' train Jared was driving. I kept pacing for a few moments before sitting down on one of the couches, seething at her and at him. Tom, who walked in as I was debating leaving the con and pretending that I’d never been there. He stopped at the door and I glared at him. I couldn’t help it.

Y/n followed him into the green room about a minute later, practically bouncing with happiness. “Hey! You were amazing! Your voice is like velvet!” she exclaimed.

He gave her an uncomfortable smile and nodded toward me before he said something I couldn’t hear. She looked over at me and gasped before rushing at me. “What are you doing here on a Friday?!”

I stood up and pulled her into a hug. It felt good to have her in my arms again but I was still pissed off so I just licked my lips and stepped back. “Well, your birthday’s tomorrow. I didn’t wanna miss out on your big two-nine. Though, I kinda feel like I may be a third wheel now that I see him. I cannot believe you invited him to a con.”

She literally rolled her eyes at me and grabbed my hand, pulling me across the room toward him. “Tom, this is Jensen. Jensen, this is Tom.”

He extended his hand for me to shake it and for a moment I almost let him hang, but the look in Y/n’s eyes told me I couldn’t really do that. If I did, I’d be spurning her. So I took his hand and tried to crush it in my own. To his credit, he didn’t show any pain. He just smiled politely and nodded. “It’s a pleasure,” he said and I forced myself to nod at him.

“Right,” I agreed, as I stepped back from him and turned my focus on Y/n. “So...how about a drink, Y/n/n? I mean, if your friend doesn’t mind.”

“I agree, a drink is a wonderful idea. Should we wait until the karaoke fun is over or-” It made me cringe that he answered for her.

“Oh, we definitely have to wait for the finale!” Y/n exclaimed. “Everyone’s gonna sing ‘Carry On My Wayward Son’! If Jensen goes out to sing with us for the finale, the audience will freak the fuck out! He’s literally never here for karaoke!”

I didn’t really feel up to it. I didn’t want anyone to know that I was there except her. “Yeah, I, uh, don’t know if that’s such a good idea, roomie. I just came early for a birthday drink with you...and after you bringing your new friend, I’m sure they’ve probably had enough excitement for one night.”

She immediately slipped into her puppy dog face. “Oh, come on, Jay! The fans will love it!”

I ran my hand down my face and shook my head. “Fuck. You sure do know how to use those eyes on me, don’t you? I...guess I can do some Kansas. But after ‘Carry On’ you and I are grabbing a drink...just the two of us,” I said, hoping she wouldn’t put up any protest. If she protested, I’d just go have a drink by myself...and I thought I was going to have to do that because she looked over her shoulder at Tom, like she was asking permission.

“It’s fine. I’m sure you two have quite a lot to talk about with your...roommate. Meet me back at my hotel afterward?”

His hotel? She was staying at his hotel?

She nodded. “I’ll text you when I’m done. Just to make sure you’re still awake.”

“I’ll put on the strong tea.” He winked at her, then kissed her cheek and left.

I wasn’t sure how to deal with it. I wasn’t sure what to say. I was so full of anger and pain. “So, you’re staying with him now?”

She shook her head. “No. I’m still at the Holiday Inn Express. I did stay at the...Ritz last night. And it looks like I might be staying there again tonight.” I was so hurt and pissed off about the very idea that she already fucked him that my stomach seemed to burn inside.

“Wow, that was fast. I mean, took me months of flirting with you before we made it to the bedroom,” I snapped. I didn’t want to make her feel bad but I was pissed. I could see the offense on her face and I felt bad about it but I was too pissed off to care much.

“Jensen, I had no fucking self esteem when I met you. I-I couldn’t even imagine that someone like you was flirting with me. But...you did and...because you showed me that I was worth the attention of a...of a god among men, I was able to see it for what it really was when Tom asked me for drinks.”

I scoffed. “Oh, so you’re saying that it’s my fault that you’re fuckin’ that guy? That...stupid...British...ginger…” I couldn’t articulate my anger. I couldn’t articulate my feelings.

She looked away but nodded. “In a bit of a roundabout way...yeah. I’m sorry, Jay. It’s just...we can’t ever be more than what we were. You’re married and you love her.”

“Yeah, of course I do, but you and I both know that my love for you didn’t start or stop at the bedroom door,” I reminded her and she looked away from me.

“But the way you love her...your love for her and your kids...it’s all-encompassing. You...can’t…” She sighed and looked away from me. “Jensen, I will always love you. Always, but...I deserve to be someone’s one and only. I would never be more than a--a distraction for your long days away from home. I deserve more than that.”

“I…” I shook my head and looked away from her. “I know. It doesn’t mean I gotta like it, though. I thought we were happy with our prior arrangement.”

“We were...until...I wasn’t.”

“Because you met him,” I accused her.

“Because I realized I wanted more,” she responded.

I was on the verge of tears, my heart breaking at the idea of her wanting more than what I could give her. “I don’t think I’m going to be able to stick around for the finale. Sorry. I’m sorry. I’m just...not into it,” I said, starting to walk away.

Her hand wrapped around my wrist and I looked back at her. “Jay, please don’t shut down.”

I couldn’t hold back my anger anymore. “What do you want from me?” I snatched my hand away from her. “If you had told me ‘no’ in January, then it could’ve been okay.” No, it wouldn’t have. It would have hurt if she told me no, but it wouldn’t have hurt like this did. “We could’ve stayed friends but after everything we’ve been through...Y/n, you’re leaving me for Loki. It’s that simple.”

“We weren’t dating, Jensen!” she whispered, furiously. “I was your sex toy. I was something for you to play with when you were away from your wife!”

“I love you and you know that!” I growled and I was a little bit louder than I should have been.

“But you can’t be with me,” she whispered...and her voice was full of so much pain...and that hurt me.

Fuck, I just wanted everything to be okay. “What if I could?” I asked, before clarifying. “What if...we were really together?”

She looked around, obviously making sure that no one was around to hear what I’d said. Obviously, I wouldn’t have said that in front of anyone. She shook her head. “You’d never leave her and I would never want you to. It’s the last thing I want to be a homewrecker and she is your home. Her and JJ and A-to-Z.” I love the way she called the twins ‘A-to-Z’ but I couldn’t appreciate it right then. “I would never want to break that up. But I deserve to be with someone I can tell my family about. I deserve to be with someone for more than just the few weekends we do conventions and the couple weeks I shoot on the show. I’m not gonna be on Supernatural forever, Jay, and what then? I deserve-”

I couldn’t hear her say anymore. “I know that! I just wish I could be what you deserve.”

She looked irritated. “If I’d met you before 10 Inch Hero...but I never would have...before…” She shook her head. “Jensen, it’s just not in the cards for us. You should find someone else because...I’m moving on.”

“I don’t want another girlfriend. I want you.”

She looked away from me and sighed. “Fuck, Jay. I’m ready for a grown-up relationship. I am ready from more than just sex.”

That. That hit me harder than anything else. “Is that what you think this was? You can’t really think that’s all you and I had.”

“We couldn’t ever be anything else!” she hissed at me and I could see that she was as hurt by the whole argument as I was but my anger and hurt wouldn’t let me empathize. “We were never going to date or-or have a relationship that I could ever tell my friends or family about. I was always going to be a secret. What we did, for the past eight months, was hide in dark corners and behind bedroom doors and I knew for the last couple months that I wasn’t ever going to get more than that. I thought it was what I wanted. I thought that was less drama and it would be a good idea because the last time I tried to have something real was when I lost everything. I lost myself in Nate but I’m better now. I’m a fuckin’ adult, Jay, and I deserve-”

“I know!” I couldn’t help but lose my temper because she was right. She was right and I didn’t want to hear it. I just wanted her. Why did that have to be so fucking hard? “I get it! I’m not giving you what you deserve! But I’m not gonna stand here and pretend to like this shit because I don’t!”

“Keep your damn voice down!” she demanded, looking around nervously. I didn’t even care if someone heard at that moment. My world was crashing down. Her eyes were sad but she was breaking up with me and there was too much happening in my heart for me to care about what some fan or one of our friends was gonna say. “Fuck, Jensen...I can’t do this. If you want to push me away...if you wanna end our friendship over this…” She got a little fire behind her eyes as she stepped up closer and looked up at me. “If you wanna act like I’m fucking wronging you by stepping away from my status as your sanctioned fuck-toy, especially when I know that your wife was not as on-board as you both made it seem...Fine,” she bit out before stomping away.

“Oh, yeah, ‘cause I’m the fuckin’ bad guy here, right?! Happy birthday, Y/n!” I shouted as she disappeared into the hallway. I punched the nearest chair but it didn’t make me feel better, so I moved to the closest wall. I was about to do some damage when Clif walked in.

“The hell do you think you’re doing? Padalecki’s the one who’s supposed to get his ass hurt.”

“I don’t wanna hear it, Clif.” He scoffed as he followed me out the back door of the green room, heading toward the parking lot.

“You’re being a dumbass,” he said as soon as we got in the SUV.

“Said I don’t wanna hear it.”

“Yeah, but you need to. Am I your friend?”

I rolled my eyes. I wasn’t in the mood for a lecture. I didn’t want to hear how I’d fucked everything up. But I didn’t have anywhere to go once he started driving to the hotel.

“Course you are.”

“And you know I’ve been watching. I’ve been around. I see things a lot of folks don’t, right?”

“Yeah.”

“She was on her way out before Danneel even met her.” I glared at him in the rearview mirror. Yeah, I just heard her say the same shit, but I didn’t want to believe it. “I could see it in her eyes after you started with the lovey-dovey bullshit. As much as she wanted you, she knew that you couldn’t give her what she needed...and you can’t.”

I shook my head. “Clif...you don’t understand.”

“I do. I watch, remember? You’re so in love. I know. But now you have to give her an opportunity to have something else.” I looked out the window as he pulled into the parking garage at the hotel and parked. “I’m not going to tell you to focus on your family or any of the crap Jared’s been telling you. I’m going to ask you: does Y/n deserve someone who can shout his feelings from the rooftops, or should she stay someone’s secret for the rest of her life?”

I didn’t have to answer. We all knew exactly what Y/n deserved.

[traumxrei-archive]

I wish we got to see more of Rook, Epel, and Yuu's voyage to the Island of Woe. They make such a great team and I was honestly touched that Rook gave Yuu a Pomefiore uniform lol. You can't go on a rescue mission if you're not in style (and matching with the others). What has intrigued me the most was what Lilia (I think it was him) said in the meeting at Crowley's office. He said something along the lines of "blah blah twisting the narrative" and Yuu had a response to that (2/?)

hello !! sorry for answering this so late, but i agree with you 100% ^^

i really wished that we got to see more of rookepeyuu's journey,,,,even just one more chapter of travel. idk, i just think it'd be funny to see how they restocked for food in the wild. im imagining epel trying to catch a fish with his Bare Hands. and then rook being like "oh la la!" and pulling out a fishing rod from his bag— (also i was curious about the hunt clan's villas....)

and the pomefiore uniformmmm !!! that was so sweet of them :'))) like i, too, would love to wear the pome uniform to play amazon prime delivery to get vil's skincare to him.

what you said about lilia and yuu, i went back in the story to see what exactly they said, but you're right. it's interesting. lilia goes "there is no shortage of historical narratives that have been twisted to suit someone's agenda" and yuu kinda connects that with the dreams they previously had...

honestly, your questions mirror my questions too. maybe someone took the stories of these so-called villains and twisted their stories into stories of good. everything we've heard so far about the great seven take the villains that we (and as an extension through the dreams, yuu) know about, but also just ignores the bad stuff they did.

bc to the characters of the world, the great seven they know is absolute. there's no way they can be evil, bc they're the epitome of good. and it makes me wonder, what even are the great seven ? bc they most certainly aren't gods, they're more close to myths or revered heroes.... book 6 really does raise a lot of questions

[repentarium]

the truth is I've been dreaming of this tired, tranquil place tag 7/?

ao3

They don't get to hang out in a big group as much anymore, between working more hours and the kids having more school work and even part time jobs, which make Steve and Eddie feel more stressed and also older than they'd like to admit because 'those are children, actually, and they're… working the grill at a fast food place? Uncanny.' Eddie felt especially freaked about it and spent a nice long rant about it during dinner one night after Mike had handed him their takeout with what Eddie was calling his ‘asshole face’ on his face.

If Steve didn’t have Eddie around so much, the lack of Robin and now the kids too would hurt a lot worse, he thinks. It’s harder to sink into the loneliness when Eddie is loud and present enough most days to make up for it, playing around on his acoustic guitar or muttering under his breath as he writes dragon notes into his little books or arguing passionately about the music Steve has rolled his eyes out. It’s enough that when he does get hold of Robin she makes jealous (and loving) little comments about being replaced. 

He assures her that there is no replacing Robin, and there absolutely isn’t, but between Family Video and Eddie he doesn’t have to dwell on missing her so much is all. He’s sure that part of it is just that compared to how alone he was in his parents house all the time having Eddie there every night, a sure thing, feels so safe. 

The Party does manage movie nights all together though, sometimes, overcrowded into the apartment's small living room. 

They're rewatching the Star Wars movies, again, because they couldn't decide on anything and really it's just background noise for catching up most of the time anyway, to Dustin's mild chagrin. 

Steve, Eddie, Dustin, and Will are all crammed onto the couch, and the rest of the Party is sprawled out on the floor, only space left for the coffee table full of pizza and glasses. 

'This is just such a cool fight scene because - I mean look at it!!' Dustin is yelling as he's shoveling chips into his mouth. 

'It's so impractical though, man, it'd never work in real life, like-' Steve gestures at the screen. 

'No but it's cool, Steve!' 

'The physics are stupid. You can see the wires and it totally takes you out of it-'

'Oh are you gonna talk to me about physics, Steve?' 

He doesn't mean anything by it, but he doesn't have his big obvious I'm teasing you voice on and for some reason it makes Steve feel like shit. He'd had a long day at work, had to rush home to leave again and pick up the kids and the pizza, and he hadn't slept properly last night, that probably had a lot to do with it, but he feels himself shrink a little into the corner of the couch anyway, gritting his teeth a little and refocusing on the tv and planning to just ignore Dustin until he gets over it which in the past has had a less-than-stellar success rate if he’s honest.

'Stop being a jerk, kid.' Steve can feel Eddie elbow Dustin beside him, even though he’s still looking at the tv too when he checks.

'I'm not being a jerk, Steve's being a moron.' 

'You can make jokes about people if they're funny but you're not being funny, you're being mean.' 

Steve feels his face get warm, and he stares wide-eyed at the screen. He can feel Eddie looking at him, the way he nudges him a little, and when he does it again to get him to look at him he mouths 'You good?' and Steve swallows and nods. 

He thinks it's over and they've moved on, but when he asks a question about the timeline in the movie, trying to patch it up, it makes Dustin mutter 'see, a moron’ quietly enough that Steve can barely hear it.

Eddie shoves him, whole-body but not roughly, off of the couch, and when Dustin starts complaining he interrupts him with a snipped and decisive 'shut up'.

'I don't know what your deal is today, man, if you wanna talk about it we can, but you don't need to be an asshole to your friends.' Then he turns his head to Steve, ignoring Dustin's muttering as he gets up and goes to the restroom and the rest of the party watching awkwardly, and explains his answer to Steve's question quietly to him. 

Steve's looking at Eddie as he speaks, in the glow of the tv screen, and it's like the actual words he's saying fade out for a minute and all he can really think about is the way the whites of his eyes and the shine of his teeth look in the blue of the television.

Then he's saying 'Does that make sense?' and his face is a little scrunched up, so Steve nods back at him. Eddie claps his hand on Steve's knee and stands up, gestures to the hallway and the bathroom, whispers 'I'm gonna go check on him'. 

Steve tries to pay attention to the screen, or even just to Lucas and Max's bickering from the floor, but he can't stop thinking about the way Eddie basically stood up for him. He's had people fighting at his side and saving his life, but for some reason Eddie's ability to see that he was upset about something and fix it before it even spiraled into a real problem (like maybe one that would have him hiding in his room for a while day and forgetting to eat or drink water or talk to anyone) felt… monumental. Like he shined a bright light into the weird little cracks and alleys inside of him and just said 'oh, we can patch this up actually' and then he just did it, easy as you please. 

Will leaves the couch, and when he does he takes his and Steve's empty glass in; when he picks his way back through the crowd he has two full glasses of water, and he sits one in front of Steve. He doesn't say anything but he does a little 'cheers' gesture with his own glass and waits for Steve to pick it up before he matches him taking a drink. 

Steve thinks 'this is the way a family could be, actually' as he takes a long drink and sets the glass down, says 'thanks' to Will. Like maybe for all his fussing and taking care of people, they also want to fuss over him and take care of him sometimes actually, not just Robin and certainly not his parents. Like they were all leaning on each other, maybe, like it's not weak to ask for a little help. 

When Dustin comes back in, Eddie's arm around his shoulder, his eyes are a little red and puffy. The two of them squeeze back into their positions on the couch, and Eddie's arm is flush against his as they watch the rest of the movie. It feels grounding. 

After the last movie, the kids (teenagers, nearly adults, god, but never not kids) start cleaning up and putting things where they belong so Eddie can get them all home like he volunteered to. While they’re bustling around, Dustin asks if he can talk to Steve alone and pulls him into his own bedroom. Eddie catches his eye on the way and gives him a questioning thumbs up, so he shrugs and nods and closes the door behind him. 

Almost immediately Dustin’s eyes are watering and he’s pulling Steve into a tight hug and saying ‘I am so sorry Steve I was being a dick and I don’t even know why, you’re not a moron at all you’re smarter than any of us a lot of the time actually and-’

‘Whoa, hey, Dustin, it’s okay.’ Steve pushes him away to hang onto his arms and look him in the eye. 

‘It’s not okay, man, I didn’t want to hurt you, I wasn’t even thinking.’

‘It’s really alright, okay? I’m kind of a moron, it’s fine.’

‘No you’re not, Steve, and you even saying that is messed up.’

‘I was… joking.’

‘You were half-joking.’

‘Well-’

‘You’re not an idiot, Steve. And I know we joke about it sometimes but it’s not cool, especially because your poor brain is mostly mush anymore from all the fights and the monsters and stuff.’

‘Gee, thanks…’

‘I mean it. If you forget what happened in Star Wars it’s probably because of the head injuries and stuff and anyways it’s not really without plot holes, you know, and it’s just a movie.’

That is maybe the kindest thing that Dustin has ever said to him, denouncing Star Wars, even if it was surrounded by honestly offensive insights.

Steve pulls him back into another hug, kind of just to keep him from accidentally insulting him anymore. When he wiggles his way out of the hug again, he says ‘I really am sorry. You’re the best babysitter, and I mean that. I’m really glad you keep us all around, even if we don’t say it much we all love you.’

And that, coming from dork of a teenager who he loves back with everything he is, is enough to bring tears prickling to his eyes. 

‘I know, man. I love you too.’

‘Don’t be a baby, okay?’ Dustin claps his hand on his shoulder like he’s the parental figure.

Steve rolls his eyes and knocks the hat off of Dustin’s head on his way out of the room again, and things feel light again, back to normal or maybe better. 

When Steve thinks about it later, after Eddie has whisked everyone off in the van, he realizes that Dustin is right. Maybe the multitude of concussions did more than wiggle his eyes around and give him migraines, like the fogginess and the way he forgets words and lyrics sometimes isn’t because he’s not thinking or whatever. A brain wasn’t supposed to be jostled around so much, by shitty dads or racist older brothers or Russians or what amount to literal demons.

It’s not Dustin’s fault for teasing him. If Steve himself didn’t connect the dots there’s no reason for the kids to. 

He hadn’t really given it a lot of thought beyond the immediacy of the migraines and his suddenly shitty vision, but he makes a note to ask Robin what her thoughts are about the whole brain injury thing the next time they talk, maybe to schedule something with another government neurologist or whatever in addition to the eye doctor. 

Eddie had though. Eddie had given it enough thought and realized it and told Dustin he was being an asshole and explained it to him, why it would hurt Steve’s feelings to say things like that, why he should maybe cool it. He knows that’s what they were talking about in the restroom, doesn’t even have to ask.

He’s washing the glasses in the sink and thinking about how good Eddie is, to him and to the kids and in general, when he comes back (‘honey, I’m home’). He comes in and sits on the counter next to the sink, watches quietly as Steve finishes up. 

‘How are you doing?’

‘Good. Good.’

‘Dustin said he apologized, but I wanted to tell you from him again he’s sorry, just in case he fucked it up somehow. I don’t think he realized what a shit he was being, you know, teenagers. He was still kind of shook up on the ride home.’

Steve nods, dries his hands and puts the towel back on the oven handle. He leans against the stove next to Eddie, who pushes his knee against his side. 

‘I know. It shouldn’t have even bothered me, it’s not like he was wrong, I’m not smart enough to be arguing about physics with the nerds, but-’

‘Shut up, man, you’re a million times smarter than me. Do you think I’m stupid?’

‘Well no.’ Steve means it honestly. He knows that tests at school don’t measure all the kinds of smart you can be. ‘I don’t think I’m smarter than you.’

‘We can agree to disagree. Maybe both of us are kind of smart.’

‘You are smart. You’re like the smartest guy I know, when it comes to people especially. I don’t know how you can always tell something’s wrong with someone, or that I’m getting a migraine, or when I don’t want to cook or whatever.’

‘It’s the trauma I think. Or maybe magic.’

But he can tell Eddie’s laughing it off, pushing the compliment aside. ‘I mean it.’ He looks at Eddie, tries to make him understand how sincere he’s being by sheer force of will. It must at least kind of work, because Eddie smiles and blushes a little, drops his head and bumps his knee against Steve again. 

‘Dustin said something though, kind of got me thinking, about how all the concussions probably fucked with the way my brain works sometimes, like maybe it’s not that there’s something, you know, wrong with me, but it’s like an injury.’

‘Concussions plural?’

‘Don’t get me started. A lot of them. And I didn’t even connect it, you know? I just thought between everyone else saying so, even Nancy and the kids and everything, I just wasn’t so smart.’

‘Stevie, pal, even if you weren’t as smart as the super-geniuses you wouldn’t be wrong. You’re still an amazing friend and babysitter and you know way more about sports and cars than I can ever learn, even with the less-than-legal history.’

Steve is just looking down at his crossed arms, Eddie’s leg still pressed against his elbow. 

‘I think I’m gonna take the government bozos up on that check up, see if they can poke my brain at all. Get the eye doctor penciled in too.’

‘Good. You gotta take care of that big old head you have.’

Steve looks up at Eddie, finally, again, sees the way his eyes are faking sincerity but so clearly goofing around, sparking in the streetlights filtering in through the windows and the light that stays on over the stove (light enough to soothe the shadows but dim enough not to trigger a migraine), and he thinks maybe he’s not replacing Robin but he’s carving his own little space out. He elbows him in the shin, and Eddie jumps off of the counter, laughing loudly as he goes to get ready for bed.

[koishua]

oh i love you for rbing hee angsts for me even though they leave a huge impact— yours specifically, for some reason ( im saying this again, vie, drop the secrets ) AND NO IT WASN'T JUST 'OH POOR BOY' FIC i mean maybe, yeah, sort of? but i was having a terrible terrible morning and my intention was to read a cute candle light dinner fic heeseung but who knew you had plans on lighting candles for the reader instead :/

AND THE LONG FIC. i am very intrigued actually, tell me more i think i'm ready to consume more of heeseung on the verge of insanity ( i think we're calling him that every time he's in your fic ) now that i've woken up from a power nap

no bc im trying to look at my fics and i can't find proper dialogue like where are the conversations?? my secret i think is just a crap ton streams of consciousness bye 🚶🚶reader and hee barely ever talk it's just like: here's what's happening in this poor little meow meow's heart and mind. have it, ty and goodbye!!

im sorry for catching you on a bad morning tho ngl ☹️☹️ but also pls 😭😭 that's so funny actually i only have two proper-ish hee fluffs and one's a blind date gone wrong but also right??? and another is just sleepy hee 🚶🚶

the longfic!! yes!! i deleted it and a bunch of others in my bout of fury and annoyance at my writing (more like lack of ability to write actual plot lmao) before i went on that two month writing hiatus so it's gone rip 🤭🤭 but it was something i'd been toying with for so so long like you know that one scene in fever of hee just tired and in bed?? it was inspired by that but instead of horny it was just sadness and sorrow lmao it's actually hilarious how that came to be the more i think about it

it was originally going to start off with that snippet i posted, which was the prologue and it would then spiral into these glimpses at his inability to wake up from this quiet and empty world he'd built for himself in your wake. lots of moments where i was showing him doing and feeling absolutely nothing for weeks on end and just the menial things yada yada and one day the 02z would try to unsuccessfully break his door down so they send a wellness check and whatnot and that's where his healing process began i guess.

it would be rocky and he'd constantly succumb back into his grief bc just like in "second death" he'd become so attached to reader that without them he just wasn't whole enough to function. it'd then go into flashbacks where i was showing everyone how up until then, he had only been living for you and only you. but the boys would take turns crashing at his place and taking him out to places and doing things that would slowly make him return to himself. god there was this one instance where they'd catch him dancing by himself in the candlelight and he was so out of himself that it honestly broke even my heart. they would realize that he kept seeing reader as if they were physically there as a means to cope and it was so heartbreaking i can't begin explaining it to you ugh

eventually the more he started to feel better and the less he started relying on drinking, the more sinister your ghost would become and there would be times where he'd wake up from a dream he had of something nice (other than you at long last) to your ghost just smiling eerily at him from beside his bed, telling him that he was starting to forget about you and how cruel that was of him and that was the first time the boys would ever hear him cry after your departure. the guilt would eat him up alive. logically he knows that you'd want him to be happy and move on but the part in his brain that's so self loathing just makes him see you everywhere so that he never ever forgets about you.

anyhow that's all i had written i think and revisiting it makes me SO want someone to write this out for me 😞😞

[star-mum]

Fred Weasley my biggest childhood crush <33

i love skimming through the content warnings and catching the little surprise tools for later

"Fred calls himself Daddy and the reader is way into it" so am I actually (congrats Fred Weasley for making it to the very select list of men I'd call daddy)

(i actually forgot this had smut in it KSKSKSK i was so focused on the ANGST and self made suffering)

"It seemed that just yesterday, you were a bright-eyed young girl" this entire first big paragraph goes so hard

"and it left you the laughing stalk of the courtyard" the prank rivals to lovers story we've been hoping for <3

"So - on with your revenge, it was" I love these two so much

"the quiet robotic hum of ‘Jingle Bells’, occasionally overlapped by ‘Santa Claus Is Coming To Town" this is such a funny prank idea

"inside the teacher’s copy of the textbook on McGonagall’s desk" KSKKSKSKS OF COURSE HE FUCKING WOULD

"You had a crippling fear of heights" which is a surprise tool :3 that'll help us out in a minute ("help" us out i guess)

"because watching Fred doing something he loved was a good distraction from just how high up you were" he'd also look Delicious playing

"he wrapped a comforting arm around your shoulders and he told you that he was genuinely sorry" 🥺🥺🥺🥺

"planting his hand firmly on the railing at the other side of your waist" this gives me the same giddy feeling of someone holding me by the waist to get by behind me

"Finally. I thought the two of you were never gonna get on with it" nothing could make me belive all the Weasleys weren't making bets on how long it'd take them

"shortly after Fred’s birthday, when everything came crashing down around you" and so the horrors begin 😟

"I guess I was stupid enough to believe that I was part of that dream!” // "Would’ve been a waste of parchment writing to you, anyway"

"any thought of what potential career you might take on was tossed aside when the world went into upheaval at the hands of Death Eaters" YEAH !!! FUNNY LITTLE THING ABOUT WORLD ENDING WARS

"Fred smirked, proud that after all this time, he could still draw a laugh out of you" the unbreakable curse of liking the "Funny Guy", he's Still funny even after a fight/breakup (it's almost humbling in a way)

"Fred, an utter death grip around his waist, until you heard him let out a grunt of pain" KSKSKSKS you love me, suck it up <3

"In the back of his mind, he thought that Wood would be proud" oh 🥺

"He likely would have died with that tight grip still around your wrist in those moments if someone had hit him with the killing curse" hey Sunny it's me knocking, let me in I just wanna talk 🔪 oh this ? don't worry about that

"Freddie, please, I don’t wanna die!” 🔪 Sunny I'm coming in

"his *thick* arms coming to cradle your back" 👀 okay

"You wanted to sob, you wanted to laugh, you wanted to scream" YEAH !!!

" with a look of intense concern on his features. “Whatever you need.” my hands are shaking as I try not to think about the implications

"He couldn’t possibly be talking about…? No. No, he wasn’t" im hitting both of you on the head with one of those rubber squicky hammers

"You had never seen Fred Weasley so sad before" im screaming and crying and ripping the wallpaper off the walls

"I can’t lose you. You almost slipped out of my hands.” 🎵 waaaaaar is oooveeeeer 🎵 (kinda, maybe, yes ?)

"If one of us were to die tomorrow, I couldn’t live my last day knowing that I wasted it not being yours" I AM RIPPING MY OWN HEART OUT OUAT STYLE, MORE BLOODY MAYBE

"You grabbed both sides of the sport jacket and used it to haul him down toward you" YEEEEEEEAAAAAAAHHHHHHH !!!!!! I looove a good intense kiss scene 🙂‍↕️

"his bedroom had some silencing wards around" 😈 we'll put it to good use 😈

"That part of him screaming that he should be the one on his knees serving you, that he needed to better apologise" 🤫 I agree actually but shhh

"Did you miss it, darling?” He asked... with a cocky smile stretched across his soft lips" 😳😳😳😳😳

"Fred Weasley’s cock was a marvel that you couldn’t have forgotten if you had tried" are they identical in every way i wonde- *a gunshot sounds off*

"his broad shoulders in those fine tailored suit jackets" damn those are CRIMINAL indeed

"give into your personal curiosity about what the heavy sac would feel like against your tongue" EEEEEVIIIIIL WOMAN !!!!! :3

"When I cum tonight, it’s gonna be deep inside your sweet cunt, yeah?” 🚨🚑🚨🚑🚨🚑🚨🚑

“Go on, good girl.” *holding the tmi jar very close to my chest* stop spilling all my secrets

"Shh, darling, Daddy’s got you" 👀

"perfect heat of your cunt began sucking him in for the first time in over a year" and you KNOW they have not gotten with ANYONE in that time (only the company of their own hand for a whole year)

"that you should have reached out to him sooner and told him that you wanted him back" there's nothing worst than a fragile, hurt ego

"All mine, all mine, darling, all mine" im soooooo normal about this 🫣🫣🫣🫣 dont look at me

"a small collection of your things were still in there" of course he kept all that shit :3

"Unfortunately I don’t have any panties for you, so…” oh noooo what a nightmare (he's a fucking liar btw, the panties are under his matress)

"Fred quietly let out a ‘yes’ in celebration" *punching the wall* he's such a dork

"soft planes of his muscles that had come from hard work rather than a distinct workout routine and the beautiful bit of fat on his lower belly" i am foaming at the mouth

"his core was a Dragon Heart’s String, and that heart beat for you just as fondly as his own did" INSAAAAAAAANEEEEE

"Can you fill out a post-orgasm survey to clarify, please, and make sure to-” KSKSKKSKSKS

"but just as Fred’s lips brushed yours, George let out a loud, fake gagging sound" siblinghood is so real

I LOOOOOOOVE THIS SO MUCH !!!! Also ! Now they get to be each other's dates to the wedding !! hoorayyy !!!!

The Way You Miss Me

Fred Weasley x Fem!Reader

I’m not trying to say I don’t wanna stay, I just know how this story ends.

Use my body against me - and all of our history.

I hate the way you miss me. 

Summary:

Fred broke up with you. He made it clear that he was going to have a new life when he opened his shop, and he didn't need you to be a part of it. You being stuck on him was just another joke in a long line of pranks that he pulled.

And life kept on laughing at you when your fear of crippling heights was triggered by a potentially life ending mission the Order put together that had you dangling hundreds of feet over London, held up only by Fred's strength and determination.

So what does it mean when the two of you land, and he's the only thing that can stop your shaking panic? What does it mean when he's looking at you with nothing but love in his eyes, holding you tight like a lover would?

Fred Weasley x Fem!Reader. Exes to Lovers. Emotional Angst and Smut. Set during Deathly Hallows.

Word Count: 18,500

Harry Potter Masterlist | AO3 Link

Full warnings list and author's notes below the cut.

Warnings: this is equal parts angst fic and smut fic; the reader is a cis woman - uses she/her pronouns and has a vagina; there is no mention of the reader's looks, race, hair colour, etc. in any way; this fic does use Y/N (and L/N as in Last Name); this takes place mostly during the beginning of Deathly Hallows, so there are mentions of dark topics, like death, and the cult-like following that Voldemort has developed; this is Exes to Lovers - Fred and the reader dated for a while during their time at Hogwarts and then broke up; (there is flashbacks in this fic to times during Goblet of Fire and Order of the Phoenix); the reader is half-blood - she has one parent who is a muggle and lives in a muggle city and the other parent who is loyal to death eaters (and there is a later mention of the reader's mother being killed due to anti-muggle sentiment as Voldemort becomes more powerful); there is no mention of what Hogwarts house the reader is in; the reader has a crippling fear of heights (which is a large part of the plot for this fic); mentions of nausea and vomiting (as a fear response) (no one actually throws up during the course of the fic); the reader experiences actual life-threatening danger while on a broom - she nearly falls to her death, but Fred catches her; Fred does struggle to hold the reader's body weight, so it doesn't imply that he has super-human strength or that the reader is particularly petite (I wanted his reaction to be realistic for someone of any body weight); for part of the fic, Fred is disguised as Harry using Polyjuice Potion (but there's no confusion about his identity because the reader knows he took the potion); the reader experiences a panic attack due to the life threatening fall, and Fred helps her calm down; mentions of blood and semi-graphic descriptions of George's canon injury (his ear being blasted off); there is general emotional angst from the characters being in close proximity to danger, death, and life threatening situations; Fred calls the reader 'darling' and 'love' and 'sweets' and 'pretty girl' (in sexual and non-sexual contexts).

For the actual smut section: this is not their first time together as a couple and neither of the characters are meant to be virgins; there is undertones of sub/dom dynamics - Fred is a teasing soft dom and the reader is submissive to him (and there is mentions of the reader experiencing what could be considered subspace) (but there isn't any specifically laid out roles - it's more so one person enjoying taking care of the other, especially after experiencing the emotional turmoil of a near death experience together); there is Daddy kink in this (not until a bit later into the smut section, but it just came to me and I realized it suited Fred so well) Fred calls himself Daddy and the reader is way into it; praise kink - Fred calls the reader 'good girl' specifically because he knows she likes it; lots of dirty talk (Fred has a filthy mouth); oral sex - Fred receiving (she blows him as a thank you for saving her life) (also slight ball worship); mentions of the reader 'choking' on his cock (but there is no major breathplay or breath restriction); slight spit kink (it's a messy blowjob and he loves it); teasing and brief orgasm denial (toward both parties); hair pulling (toward both parties) - not with the intention of causing pain, but to direction someone's attention and to show appreciation and affection to the person; thigh riding - she humps herself on Fred's thigh while she is still wearing clothes; penis in vagina sex; creampie kink (I'm not gonna say breeding kink, because there's no mention of procreation or getting someone pregnant, even in theory, but they are both very turned on by the idea of him cumming inside of her); this could be protected sex OR unprotected sex - he cums inside of her raw but we can all pretend that they used a magical pregnancy prevention method if you want even though it's not mentioned in the fic; cockwarming (reader doesn't let Fred pull out for a while after he cums); I think that is finally it for this fic.

A/N: This fic is titled after a song by All Time Low, which I highly recommend listening to paired with this fic. This is actually part of an idea I had for a much longer multi-chaptered Fred x Reader fic, but I kept thinking about this one moment in the fic and how much I wanted to write it - so I did. And I decided that it would make a good oneshot. And I am actually insanely proud of myself for managing to capture the same emotions in under 20k that I originally thought would take me like 50k or 100k to properly communicate. I think this is fantastic, and it's one of the best things I have written in a while - and I really hope you guys enjoy it! Especially if you like angsty, emotional, exes to lovers fics.

...

Very often, you wondered when life had become so complicated. 

It seemed that just yesterday, you were a bright-eyed young girl, dancing around a beautifully magical winter ball with the love of your life on your arm - and now, you were a confused woman who was terrified of how your life would end up because of a dark wizard and his cultist followers trying to overtake your world. 

These days you didn’t even have that lover to comfort you through all of the confusion and dread that clouded the world around you. 

You and Fred used to be perfect. That’s what a lot of people would have called the two of you - the ‘perfect’ couple. 

Your story was something straight from a romance novel - the two of you were best friends when you were young, and that friendship quickly blossomed into affection. That affection naturally led into a sweet romance. When you were with him, your life was full of moments where you felt like a beautiful, flowery, desirable protagonist because of how he treated you. Your life used to be full of laughter, full of smiles, full of romantic gestures. 

You and Fred were in the same year at Hogwarts, so naturally you knew each other. You weren’t really friends - at least not at first. You knew of each other, especially because you had some classes together. 

But you didn’t truly meet Fred Weasley until more than halfway into your first year of classes together. You had the misfortune of accidentally running into a prank that was meant for a Slytherin Prefect - someone who had taken one too many house points off Gryffindor for the twins’ liking. And after being doused with red and gold paint and tripping over a toy rubber snake that had been charmed to hiss realistically when you got near it - you were reasonably frightened and crying, and it left you the laughing stalk of the courtyard - someone to be pointed at and mocked by everyone. 

Fred hadn’t meant for it to be you. With the way he looked at you after the incident - full of guilt while everyone else pointed at you and laughed, imitating your frightening screams and attempts to jump away from the fake snake - it didn’t take you long to figure out the culprits behind it. And it didn’t take you much longer after that to plan your revenge. (Especially because, as much as Fred looked guilty, he didn’t simply come forward and apologise. Too afraid to look like a weak moron in the eyes of his brother and his other Gryffindor friends. So - on with your revenge, it was.) 

You figured that all good pranksters should be due to be a victim sometimes, too. If the twins couldn’t laugh when they were on the receiving end, then they should stop playing pranks. 

So you came up with something that you considered masterful. During your trip home for Christmas, back to Muggle London where your mother lived, you asked her to take you to a shop to buy a couple of greeting cards for your classmates. The ones that sing Christmas carols loudly when the hinge of the card is opened. Something clever, and not needing any magic at all. 

And when you returned to Hogwarts after the break, you found a moment where the twins were distracted, and you stole their book bags in order to pull off your epic, amazing prank. You taped those singing greeters into the back of their Potions textbooks - a class that you shared with them, of course, so that you could enjoy the show. And then you waited. 

You had trouble containing your laughter when Professor Snape escalated from annoyed to downright scalding angry as his class was filled with the quiet robotic hum of ‘Jingle Bells’, occasionally overlapped by ‘Santa Claus Is Coming To Town’. It was made even better by the fact that both of the twins clearly knew that the music was coming from somewhere in their surrounding area, but they had no clue what the exact source was or how to stop it. And with every snivelled demand of ‘just open your books and get to work’ - the music only started up again. 

By the time they had been sentenced to detention for disturbing the class, you were nearly breathless and your ribs were aching from trying to hold back your laughter. Which, of course, meant that Fred easily spotted you out of everyone else - who looked equally confused or annoyed with the low hum of the music. And as soon as the class ended, he brought his textbook to you, thanked you for the worthy prank, and asked you how to stop it. He looked entirely amused and impressed when you pulled the tiny device out of the back, and proceeded to ask you a million questions about it. 

You weren’t surprised when the next week, the annoying singing greeter ended up inside the teacher’s copy of the textbook on McGonagall’s desk. 

From that moment on, his crush on you steeped inside of him like a fine tea, developing from an innocent adolescent attraction to full-blown, ‘drive you crazy’, ‘I would do anything for you’, love. It was lucky for him that you easily felt the same way. 

Through the years of being by his side, becoming his best friend, pulling pranks together and trying desperately to get him to study - it was difficult not to fall for Fred Weasley. 

You had been overjoyed when Fred invited you to the Quidditch World Cup. Even though you weren’t the biggest fan of Quidditch (and Fred knew that). The only reason you had started attending the games at Hogwarts was because he joined the team. And you only bothered to attend the games he played in, so your bias could be spotted from a mile away. But in his letter, with the ticket to the World Cup slotted into the envelope, he told you that it was ‘the game of the century’ and you ‘simply couldn’t miss it’. 

You wouldn’t miss out on spending time with him, so you eagerly agreed to go. 

This left you with only one glaring problem. 

You had a crippling fear of heights. 

It was one of the reasons that you never really gotten into Quidditch in the first place. You had absolutely no interest in playing, and even less interest in watching if Fred wasn’t involved. The idea of even flying on a broom being something that made you nauseated and shaky just from thinking about it. 

The mandatory first year flying lesson was the only class at Hogwarts that you ever failed, but Madame Hooch took pity on you when she saw you crying and fisting the grass after only getting your broom about five inches off the ground. So she passed you anyway - just barely. 

When you set out to watch Fred’s games at Hogwarts, you usually had to take some kind of anti-nausea tonic beforehand to make sure that you didn’t puke all over everyone else in the stands. And you usually couldn’t even make it up to your seat to watch unless one of your good friends held your hand. But you were alright once the actual game started, because watching Fred doing something he loved was a good distraction from just how high up you were. 

Telling Fred about your intense fear had been one of the most honest, vulnerable moments that you ever had with him. Your friendship was usually all pranks and laughter, which you loved. 

But one summer day, when you were hanging out with the Weasleys, they wouldn’t stop nagging you to join one of their family Quidditch matches because they needed an extra player to make the teams even. And after the twins’ endless teasing, saying that you were ‘afraid to lose’ or that you would be ‘too distracted by their daring good looks’ in order to play properly, you broke down crying and stormed off into the woods, because you were too anxious to admit the real reason that you couldn’t play.  

Fred was the one who found you off in the trees behind the Burrow, tears still streaming down your face, and asked you what he had done to so greatly upset you. He had been terrified at the idea of making you upset, so hurt that he had been the one to make you cry. And after he found out about your fear, he didn’t laugh or mock you for it or play it off as something stupid like you thought would be so typical of him. No - instead, he wrapped a comforting arm around your shoulders and he told you that he was genuinely sorry. And he promised that he would never invite you to play Quidditch again. 

When you had accepted the invitation to The World Cup, you had forgotten how much your fear of heights played into watching Quidditch as well. The giant, impossibly tall temporary Quidditch stadium that had been set up for the event had been looming over you all day, but you didn’t want to quit and go home because of some silly little fear. 

You wanted to spend the time with your friends. You wanted to enjoy the event because the people you loved most were having fun there. So you pressed on, ignoring the inevitable, letting yourself get caught up in the pregame revelry. You walked around the seemingly endless campgrounds with Fred and George, in awe of all the decorations and the different wizards from all over the world, showing off things from their homes. You chatted and charmed along with them as they collected bets before the game. You let Fred paint your face with large, ugly shamrocks because even though you didn’t entirely care about the teams or fully know them, you were rooting for Ireland to win simply because he was. 

But the unavoidable nature of your problem became very apparent as Arthur guided everyone to your seats, and you climbed up more stairs, and more stairs, and more stairs - and the higher up you got, the more you found yourself shaking, especially when you looked down to the ground and saw that the people down there looked like little more than bugs. You hated it when your mind, naturally, went to what would happen to you if you stumbled over the railing and fell down all that way. You would splat on the ground, squashed like a bug. You would die within seconds. 

You held on tighter to Fred’s hand - he would have said that he had grabbed your hand in the first place so that he wouldn’t lose you among the bustling crowd, and not simply as an excuse to be closer to you. You didn’t even realise how badly you were trembling in his touch as you looked over the railing (still a few flights down from your final seats) with intense apprehension. 

“You alright?” Fred asked you simply. 

“‘m fine.” You mumbled out the lie, giving him a large, forced smile - hoping that he would believe it. 

You knew that if you told him how you were feeling, he would insist on escorting you back to the tent. Perhaps he would even insist on staying with you so that you wouldn’t have to be alone. So he might miss out on a once in a lifetime Quidditch game all because you had a bit of petty anxiety from being so high up. 

So you tried your best to push down all your feelings and ignore them, even if it was making you shake and making your stomach churn. When you got to the top, peering over the edge of the railing of the very, very high up seats that Arthur had gotten as a thanks for his work on helping to organise the whole thing (apparently, the higher up the better to actually see the game), you felt an incredible sense of dizziness, and began swaying on your feet. 

This was so much higher up than the Quidditch stands at Hogwarts. 

Naturally, Fred noticed. It wasn’t something he would easily admit, or even something he did consciously, but he always kept an eye on you. Partially due to a knack for admiring your beauty, that adolescent love-struck feeling always making him more prone to staring at you. But it was also partially due to the fact that he felt a need to watch over you. Whether it be as a friend or as something else, he always wanted you to be safe, and happy. 

And right now, your sickly, terrified face stood out like a sore thumb among the crowd of excited, cheering fans.  

“Y/N,” 

He called out your name in a serious tone that was so uncharacteristic of Fred, something that snapped your attention from staring anxiously at the ground toward him immediately. He cemented your attention on him when he put a hand on top of your tight, tense knuckles on the railing. His touch was warm, as always, and oddly grounding, removing even just a slight bit of that dizzying anxiety that you were feeling. 

“Do you wanna go back down? I can bring you back to the tent,” 

Of course. Just as you had predicted. 

“No.” You easily answered, shaking your head furiously, biting your lip. “I-” 

You didn’t want him missing out on such an important event because of you, but more importantly: 

“I - I don’t want to be afraid.” You heaved out, your chest tight with anxiety. “It’s stupid - people do stuff like this all the time, right? I shouldn’t be afraid-” 

“It’s not stupid.” He said firmly, quickly squashing down any self-belittling that you might be tempted to do. “You can’t control how you feel.” 

Coming from him, it sounded like the most firm truth ever. 

“If you want to stay, I’ll be right here with you.” Fred added on, giving you a warm, reassuring grin. “But just let me know if you want to go back down, and I’ll walk with you, alright?” 

You nodded, hating that even though his words gave you that nip of courage you needed, you were still pulsing with a dull panic. The undeniable reaction that fear caused in your body. 

Fred hated seeing you shaking, hated the deep frown that cut through your beautiful features - so what he did next was instinctive. He took his hand off yours and reached that arm, the one closest to you, around your back, planting his hand firmly on the railing at the other side of your waist. This trapped you in a close-knit hold beside him, something that made you feel instantly more secure - even if it was just from the warmth of him at your side. 

“I’m not gonna let you fall, yeah?” He said quietly, leaning closer into your ear to be heard - the warmth of the reassurance causing gentle tingles down your spine. “I would never let anything happen to you, darling.” 

Between the intense loving safety that he words wrapped you in with the sweet nickname he added on, and the firm cradle of his arm around your back, you knew that you would have no problem sticking it out for the game. But your brain was still trying to cope, your anxiety so incredibly nagging, and you couldn’t help it when your eyes drifted back to focus on the ant-like people on the ground, becoming shaking and nauseous all too soon from staring downward. 

“Down look down.” Fred scolded you gently, using his other hand to grab your chin, forcing your gaze back up - it ended with your eyes locked with his, admiring the way the breeze blew his too-long ginger hair into his eyes. “Just look at me, alright? It’s gonna be far worse if you keep starin’ down there. Just look at me, love.” 

“Just look at you.” You repeated in a quiet mumble, already so utterly locked in the powerful orbit of his gaze, feeling like it was near impossible to look away from him. 

You felt his forehead brush against yours before you realised just how close he had gotten. But you couldn’t bring yourself to mind. 

And ultimately, feeling the stands shaking beneath your feet as a particularly hard gust of wind came through and having another swell of anxiety rush through you was what drove you to closing the gap, sealing your lips on his in your first kiss. Fred made you brave, almost stupidly so, and you hoped that you had finally used that bravery for something good in capturing his lips. (Rather than the stupid mischief that the two of you usually got up to.) 

Fred smiled into the kiss and George cheered loudly behind him - you thought it was due to the game starting, and when you pulled back sharply to look around for the players, you were met with nearly all eyes in the group on you, clearly gawking at the fact that you and Fred had kissed. 

This included Ginny smirking almost evilly before she said: 

“Finally. I thought the two of you were never gonna get on with it.” 

This left you squirming with a mild embarrassment, and definitely not thinking about how high up you were anymore. 

Looking back, the memory was painful - not sweet or fond as it had once been to you. 

But it wasn’t nearly as painful as the memory of the day you and Fred had broken up. 

He had asked you to be his girlfriend officially only a few days after the World Cup. He wanted you to know what that kiss meant to him, and he wanted the privilege of more kisses from you, on top of the ‘honour’ (his exact wording) of going back to Hogwarts with you on his arm as his girlfriend, making all the other boys in your year ‘pathetically jealous’. Of course, it was everything you wanted, he was everything you wanted, so you said yes. 

The two of you dated for nearly two full happy years - right through your sixth year and into your seventh, until in April of your seventh year, shortly after Fred’s birthday, when everything came crashing down around you. 

It wasn’t unusual of Fred to pull you away after a class - his hand in yours, igniting fluttery giggles from your lungs as he pulled you down the corridors to whatever secret little spot he had picked out. Even with Umbridge at Hogwarts, implementing more rules and cracking down on ‘fraternisation’ between students, you and Fred still found ways to sneak off to have your private little moments together. 

So when Fred took you off to one of those private corners on chilly spring afternoon, you assumed that this was no different. You fell into the natural rhythm of pinning him against a wall, sealing your lips firmly to his in a kiss and waiting for his hand to sneak up your skirt while his tongue ventured into your mouth. You were shocked when this time, he didn’t kiss you back. He was limp and unreceptive against you, and that was when you realised that you had read the tone of the interaction very wrong - even if him dragging you away by the hand always led to making out in a quiet corner, and more than a bit of groping. 

You pulled back, looking at him with confusion and disappointment plainly across your face. 

“What’s wrong, Freddie?” You asked, well in the habit of using the nickname for him. 

Fred’s expression was filled with sullen dread, and it made your stomach twist. It truly made you fearful of whatever he was going to say next, and you took a step back from him, widening the gap between the two of you in the dusty, draughty old stairwell. You suddenly felt too cold, even with your uniform sweater and thick robes on, and wrapped your arms around yourself to compensate. 

“There’s something I have to tell you.” He announced quietly, continuing to lean on the wall that you had pressed him up against, staring at the floor, his eyes unwilling to meet you. 

What? Had he cheated on you? Did he want to break up? 

What terrible thing could possibly make this bright, funny joker so damn sad and serious? 

“What is it?” You asked, filling with dread, your throat tightening up more by the second. 

“George and I have decided that it’s about time we take our leave.” Fred announced, his eyes only flickering to you for a moment, looking for some kind of reaction. You were only further confused, and waited for him to explain. “The lease for the shop in Diagon Alley finally came through, and-” 

“Well that’s great news, Fred.” You said, trying to sound happy and upbeat beyond the tension that was still tight in your chest. You had no clue why he was so downtrodden - the joke shop was his dream, and now that they had secured a location for it, that dream was coming true. 

He heaved a sigh, his eyes turning to gaze out a nearby window for a moment before he turned back to you. 

“It means we have to leave, darling.” He said sharply. 

Your insides became heavy. 

You knew it was a very Fred and George thing - so intent on not doing their exams, desperate to escape any further academics. You wanted to ask why they wouldn’t stay until the end of the school year, but you knew that you would get answers about how they didn’t need marks from exams that they were likely going to fail anyway to run a shop that they now owned. 

It was something founded on their own talents and ideas, and they didn’t need the approval of professors marking them wrong or right in order to do it. 

It was the life they had always dreamed of. And you were intensely proud of them for it. 

So why did you still have that overwhelming feeling of dread? 

“So - when are we leaving?” You asked, trying to sound confident and firm in your words even though you knew what was likely coming next. 

You felt intensely disappointed when the all too predictable outcome smashed you in the face. 

“You’re not coming with us.” Fred said quietly. 

“Why not?” You argued gently. 

You would drop everything and go with them - you felt far more emotional attachment to being with Fred than you did to finishing your year at Hogwarts. You knew that you could be a useful hand around the shop. Any venture helping Fred would be a worthy one to you. But staring you down were the calculating eyes of someone who had been telling you over the past years how much he didn’t want to disrupt your studies with his antics, because he thought you had a ‘brilliant mind’, and you were ‘so much smarter’ than him and George. 

He thought that you could actually pull some decent - no, brilliant grades on your NEWTs and truly make something of yourself. The shop was a big dream of his and George’s, but Fred knew that you were destined for something so much greater that truly challenged and fully utilised your brilliance. So he wasn’t going to let you be dragged down to mediocrity by him. 

Realising this, part of you still ached. Why was he so intent on leaving if it meant leaving you behind? 

“Please don’t be stupid-” Fred sighed, rolling his eyes. 

“Oh, so I’m stupid now?” You scoffed. 

He hadn’t meant to let the harsh word leave his lips - at least, he hadn’t meant it in such a harsh way. 

“Y/N-” Fred used your actual name, something he rarely did, but you barreled right over whatever he was going to say with your next words. 

You were hurting now, and you didn’t entirely care what he had to say. 

“If I’m so stupid, then why should I even bother to stay here and take my NEWTs?” You hissed, twisting around his accidental slip into something he had never meant. “Or am I too stupid to even work at a silly little joke shop with you?” 

Fred scowled deeply. It didn’t suit him. 

“Y/N, this ‘silly little joke shop’ has been my dream since I was five years old!” He barked, now taking your heat of the moment words and running away with them. “You don’t-” 

“I guess I was stupid enough to believe that I was part of that dream!” You cried out in return, cutting off his words once again. 

‘You are.’ He choked down the words. ‘But I can’t bear to bring you down just because I want to be with you. I could never be so selfish.’ 

“I-” He choked on whatever he was going to say, swallowing it down. “I can’t do this right now.” 

He moved to storm off completely, hoping to speak with you later when you both had calmed down, hoping to have a proper, happy goodbye with you before he and George actually left. 

But your next words made him freeze on the spot, and wiped away all of those hopes within him. 

“Fred Weasley, if you walk away, we’re done.” You said, now choking on tears. 

You were utterly insulted that he wouldn’t even fight for you - that he wouldn’t even promise that his heart would be waiting for you after you graduated. To you, it was a sure sign that he was saying that his shop was more important to him than you were. That you were just some stupid schoolgirl fling to him; that along with the shop, he wanted to move on to other women, to find someone that he actually wanted to marry. 

You had never been a part of the dream he had for his life - you had just been a passing fancy in his eye. 

For Fred, it was all too painful. This was the conversation he had been utterly dreading since he and George had decided to take their leave, and it was going far worse than he had planned in his head. He couldn’t face the pain - he couldn’t face hurting you. He couldn’t face missing you, even during a few short months apart before you did graduate. 

So he then did something so terribly stupid, looking to bomb the relationship wide open - hoping to end all of the pain before it even started. 

“Good.” He said, barely turning his head to even look over his shoulder at you. “Would’ve been a waste of parchment writing to you, anyway.” 

With those final, painful words, he stomped off down the stairs, leaving you to collapse against one of the nearby walls in a puddle of tears - for the first time in a long time, without Fred to muffle your sobs in a comforting hug. 

You hadn’t been there to watch him and George ride off on their brooms when they finally gave Umbridge everything she deserved - you had been locked in your dorm, sobbing into your pillow because of that horrible, relationship ending fight. You had only heard from other people later that they had left Hogwarts in a blaze of glory, and you were the only person who knew for certain where they had gone and what their plans were now. 

You hated to admit it - but you missed Fred Weasley. 

You tried your hardest to get over him. You threw yourself into your studies, and you did pass your NEWTs with some of the highest marks in your class. But then, any thought of what potential career you might take on was tossed aside when the world went into upheaval at the hands of Death Eaters. And unintentionally, you were right back at Fred’s side again. 

It was a dreadful thing - being forced to see your ex on such a frequent basis. 

The last time being just a few short days ago when he had come into the Apothecary that you worked at in Diagon Alley, looking for some ingredients for a new WWW product that he wanted to make a test batch of. You had still spent last Christmas with his family, at the nagging insistence of Molly. After your mother had turned up dead and your father was missing, and you had to face the fact that he had likely defected to the Death Eaters out of fear (and the stupidity of his ingrained ‘old ways’), you didn’t really have any other family to turn to, aside from the Weasleys. 

You saw Fred a lot more often than you should - more often than you wanted to, in fact. Because the more often you had to see him walk into your shop with a grin on his face and bear the small talk he would force you into before he finally put in his order, the more you ached. You wanted nothing more than to be able to get away - to go someplace far away that Fred would never find you, so that you could finally heal, could finally get over the way he had broken your heart. 

But the country, and likely the state of all Wizardkind, was in upheaval. So many lives were at risk, and you had your part to play. You had signed on to become a member of the Order the minute you turned seventeen, and you weren’t prepared to shirk that commitment now, just because of a bit of girlish heartbreak. 

It was the reason that you were standing in the now empty residence of Number Four, Privet Drive. You had been called upon last minute to replace Tonks on this particular mission, for reasons that everyone seemed tight lipped about. But you weren’t going to question it - you were just going to step up and do your duty so that Harry could be transported safely, and hopefully go on to defeat the Dark Lord once and for all. 

According to Mad-Eye Moody, it was all very straight forward. Six of the fourteen members of the group would take Polyjuice Potion to turn themselves into decoy versions of Harry, making for seven Harrys in total, and the other half of the group would pair off with a Harry each to be their escort. 

You weren’t a huge fan of the idea of Fred disguising himself as Harry, essentially putting a huge target on his back - but the plan had already been set in place. He had already agreed to it. There was no room for you to protest now. 

“We’re not a big fan of the idea either, mate.” George spoke up when Harry protested against the idea of people risking their lives by being disguised as him. 

“Yeah, imagine something went wrong, then we’d be stuck as a scrawny, specky git forever.” Fred added on with his usual humorous tone. 

You held back a laugh at this comment, and everyone in the room eyed you harshly as you choked on your own breath. Fred smirked, proud that after all this time, he could still draw a laugh out of you. 

Your sense of humour about the whole situation was soon stamped out when Mad-Eye mentioned brooms. The group would have to be flying because Harry couldn’t apparate or use any other common form of transport without the Ministry knowing. 

“Brooms?” You questioned, knowing that your tone sounded far too panicked. “We - we’re flying?” 

“Yes.” Mad-Eye snipped curtly in return. “What exactly about my explanation was unclear, Ms. L/N?” 

His sharp tone and his glare in your direction, along with his use of your surname, instantly transported you back you Defense Against the Darks Arts classes in your sixth year, when you had been intimidated by the man - even if, strangely enough, you hadn’t been taught by the same man who now stood before you. 

You swallowed tightly, a large lump forming in your throat already - an involuntary, wicked reaction overtaking your body because of your fear of heights. Fred looked at you with sad knowing in his eyes, and you didn’t notice when he clenched his fists tightly at his sides, resisting the urge to swaddle you in a comforting hold. 

“Nothing was unclear, just-” You stuttered, breathing in deeply, trying to calm yourself. “I don’t have much experience with flying, and-” 

“Weasley - er - Fred, has already informed me of that.” Mad-Eye said, correcting himself when he realised just how many ‘Weasleys’ were on this mission and how utterly confusing that would get. “He’s insisted on taking you due to your lack of experience. Is that all?” 

Obviously, you didn’t want to publicly admit to your fear. You couldn’t reveal it as the terrible weakness that it was, especially not when there were so many other worries at play. 

“Yes, it’s fine.” You said, nodding, trying to keep the conversation short and keep the attention off you. 

“Good. Now if we’re all done dawdling, we need to get to work.” 

It was downright strange seeing Fred transformed into Harry. 

Even complete with the dorky clothes and the glasses, you still easily spotted him out of the crowd of ‘specky gits’. Maybe it was the years of practice that you had telling him apart from George that made it so easy for you, but he was still so irritably Fred. The fact that he slid his wand into his back pocket - something you had warned him dozens of times would likely result in the wand crunching in half and breaking when he sat down (and annoyed you to the point of you snatching it out of his back pocket to save it, especially before he sat down). The way he reached up to scratch his nose, the smirk on his face when he kept glancing over at the other Harry you were sure had to be George. Especially with the way they were steadily side-eyeing each other, speaking volumes with their looks and having a silent conversation that nobody else knew of. 

The fact that his eyes kept flickering to you every few moments definitely helped you to pick him out of the crowd. Even though you were used to a gentle hazel gazing at you rather than that piercing blue, there was still a unique concern behind his eyes when he looked at you from beyond those spectacles - the same kind of gentle seriousness that you hadn’t really seen from him since he had held your shaking hand on the stairs of the stands on the day of The World Cup. 

Stupidly, it only really occurred to you how close you would have to be with Fred, tightly riding behind him on the back of his broom, when you went outside and he ushered you to climb onto the back of his broom behind him. It had been a little over a year since you had broken up with Fred, and since then, you had not touched him. 

Every greeting had been friendly, but from a distance. Even when he came into the Apothecary and laid his hand on the counter, you snaked out of the way in time to avoid his fingers so much as brushing by yours. You always laid his order on the counter for him to pick it up himself, so that his fingers wouldn’t accidentally brush against yours. You made sure never to have contact with him. And now, you were being forced to climb onto the back of his broom, to hold him tight. 

But you couldn’t protest. You couldn’t demand to switch partners now because of some petty angst you were harbouring about a break-up that had happened so long ago. (Would you call it angst, or stupid, longing, painful heartbreak?) You couldn’t complain - not when this was about transporting Harry safely. This was about something so much bigger. 

Sure, it wouldn’t be exactly the same as holding onto your Fred (not that he was yours anymore - you had to remember that). He was Harry-Fred right now, so he was much shorter and thinner, and you could easily pretend that he wasn’t Fred at all. Which is what you forced yourself to think about as you swung a shaking leg over the broom and climbed on, wrapping your arms around his waist, preparing for take-off. 

It was a bit harder to pretend that this wasn’t Fred when you caught the faintest whiff of his expensive cologne (something he had only started wearing once the shop took off, something you noticed on him for the first time when he came to visit you at the Apothecary). It was definitely still lingering on his skin, something that was so painfully Fred even while you stared at the back of Harry’s wild black hair. 

It pierced your heart a little bit more when he peered over his shoulder at you, striking you as so Fred with those somehow warm, caring blue eyes and gently asking: 

“Good?” 

To which you replied: 

“m fine.” 

The most terrible lie you had ever conjured - something that was soon covered up by Mad-Eye shouting some last minute instructions and waving everyone off. 

When Fred kicked off the ground, you were immediately met with the most sickening wave of nausea that you had ever experienced in your life. You got way too high up for your liking within seconds, the houses on the ground growing far too small in your view, and you couldn’t fight the urge to shut your eyes. 

Unfortunately, it only made you dizzier, but it calmed your nerves a slight bit. You didn’t even realise how tightly you were clutching onto Fred, an utter death grip around his waist, until you heard him let out a grunt of pain from his stomach muscles being strangled by your arms with your fingers digging into him like claws, holding on for dear life. 

“S-sorry.” You stuttered out, shivering from the pure fear of it all, rather than the cool breeze that was whipping at your face. “Sorry, sorry!” 

“I’m sorry!” Fred replied - it was still strange hearing him speak in Harry’s voice, and you were glad that it was temporary. “I should have told them you weren’t up to this mission, I-” 

“I’m fine!” You barked back, hating the idea that your fear would make you unfit for a mission. But in a sense, you knew it was true. You would have spit in the face of any Death Eater, but your fear of heights was so utterly crippling. “Fred, don’t you dare for a moment suggest-” 

“We’ve been breached!” You heard someone - Arthur’s voice, shouting from up ahead. 

Your eyes whipped open and suddenly, you were filled with an entirely different kind of fear. Smoky black clouds of Death Eaters whipped through the sky around you - somehow, they had discovered the plan. And now, they were targeting all of the fake Harrys, firing off curses in every direction, looking for the real one. 

They were targeting Fred. 

That was the only thing at the forefront of your mind - they were going to hurt Fred. 

“Y/N-?” 

“Just get us out of here!” You told him. “I’ll cover you!” 

You knew that you couldn’t close your eyes now. Of course you would step up to protect him. No matter if the two of you were lovers, friends, or something estranged - you still loved him in your heart, and you would protect him no matter what. 

You grabbed your wand out of your jacket and gripped it stiffly, firing a stunning curse at the first silver mask you saw, still tightly gripping onto Fred’s jacket with your other hand. He used both his hands on the broom, gripping tighter with his legs to steer better, years of Quidditch honed skill coming in handy. His ability to be calm and fly mindfully while Bludgers were flying at his head made him a lot calmer with multiple Death Eaters firing potentially deadly curses all around him. In the back of his mind, he thought that Wood would be proud. 

You were still shaking horribly, and a few of your spells didn’t land on the first try, but you kept trying. You centred yourself, remembering what you were doing, who you were here for. In your mind, it wasn’t about Harry, it was never about Harry - it was about Fred. It was because Fred had approached you about the last minute replacement, it was because Fred was the one on the broom in front of you, the one you would have died to protect. 

You didn’t see when someone Apparated in a thick cloud of black smoke behind you, and raised their wand in your direction, hitting you squarely in the back with a heavy jinx. It was the force of a brick wall smacking you, something that sent you and Fred tumbling end over end through the sky and sent you flying cleanly off the broom because you didn’t have the instinct to grip the wood with your thighs like he did. 

You let out a shrill scream as you felt yourself falling, your worst fear coming to life. 

Thankfully, Fred was quicker than gravity - quicker than death. 

He laser focused on you, and suddenly, everyone else was gone. All the supposed danger, all the Death Eaters - even other members of the Order who might have needed his help - they all vanished in his eyes. 

It was only you. 

He turned the broom into a deadly nose dive, racing down toward you, reaching with his hand out, and in seconds, while you were still hundreds of feet off the ground - he snatched you. He had your wrist gripped so tightly in his hand - slightly sweaty, already slipping. But he wouldn’t have let go of you if Lord Voldemort himself commanded it.  

He likely would have died with that tight grip still around your wrist in those moments if someone had hit him with the killing curse. 

He slowed the broom down, turning up out of the dive, intent to get you away from the fight, driving forward. Scarily, his arm muscles were already shaking from holding up all of your body weight. 

You stared up at him with tears of pure terror dancing in your eyes, and though he was wearing the mask of The Chosen One - in those moments, the terrified, caring, loving eyes of your Fred were staring right back at you. 

As much as you trusted him, you felt yourself slipping out of his grip, and more fear swelled inside of you. 

“Freddie, help me!” You screamed, shaking, flailing under his grip, trying to reach your other arm up to help as he struggled to hold onto you. “Freddie, please, I don’t wanna die!” 

“I’m not gonna let you die!” He replied, desperation gripping his throat. “Just - look at me. Don’t look down.” 

Of course, you were distinctly reminded of that day at The World Cup. And somehow, you felt the same sense of safety with him now that you did then - even if you didn’t have the railing or even the gravity of something under your feet. 

His muscles shook harder, and he knew that he wouldn’t be able to hold onto you for much longer. 

He had to pull you up. 

“I’ve got you.” Fred huffed, straining with the effort. “I’ve got you-” 

He tried pulling you up, but his muscles shook harder in protest, and he let out a harsh, murderous scream of frustration. And then he did the only thing that he could think to do. He gripped onto you tighter, and he used his legs and his other hand to do a sickeningly sharp barrel roll, twisting the broom completely around by leaning with his right shoulder. He flipped the entire broom with the hopes that you would get the chance to be flipped back onto it safely. 

Luckily, even though you let out another terrified scream, you got the hint and hooked your leg around the wood mid-air, holstering your shaking body back behind him. You gripped onto Fred even tighter then, and one glance around told you that luckily, or unluckily, the fight had cleared off from around the two of you. 

Perhaps they had heard you call this imposter Harry by the name ‘Fred’, perhaps you had given the real Harry away and ruined the whole plan. As you squeezed your eyes shut again and shoved your now tearful face into Fred’s back, selfishly, you couldn’t bring yourself to truly care. 

The rest of the trip went on too long for your liking - you were still crawling with anxiety and eager to have your feet back on the ground. 

Toward the end of it, you felt Harry-Fred’s body shift back into the tall, more muscular form that you were familiar with (somehow a bit more muscular than you remembered, but you tried not to get caught up on that detail). You were more than relieved when you felt your feet brushing against the ground with the landing. Distantly, you heard the familiar, comfortingly worried baulking of Molly’s voice, and you opened your eyes to see that Fred’s head was much higher up than it had been before, and his hair was thankfully returned back to its bright red state. 

Molly rushed over to Fred, and there was some conversation, but you couldn’t make it out - blood was thumping in your ears, your body still overtaken by all the horrible symptoms of your fear. The moment that Fred dropped the broom in order to step away from it, you stumbled off into the grass on weak legs. 

You hardly realised that you were hyperventilating - you simply felt dizzy, felt your chest aching from the lack of breath; you noticed that your vision was blurred with tears, and you knew that you weren’t getting enough oxygen. You pressed now muddy hands to your face in desperation, trying to usher more air past your lips, and it was then that a streak of orange fell into your view as Fred dropped to his knees in front of you. He had heard you gasping, and of course, rushed to you with nothing more than concern flooding his system once again. 

“Hey, hey, look at me.” He murmured, trying his best not to panic himself at seeing you like this - he gently took a hold of your face, guiding your vision toward him. “Look at me. You’re alright now. You’re safe.” 

Of course you knew that. You knew that you would always be safe with Fred. 

But your body hadn’t even registered the fact that you had landed yet - the panic only now fully setting in, bringing with it the most cruel, shocking symptoms you had ever experienced. You did the only thing you could think of - the only thing that would truly make you feel safe. Something you knew would truly ground you after experiencing such chaos so high up in the air. 

You launched yourself toward Fred, pressing your face into his chest, wrapping your arms tightly around his waist in a firm hug as you tried to stifle down sobs. He easily accepted this, his thick arms coming to cradle your back, selfishly thankful to have you back in his arms. He gently rocked you back and forth as he peppered more soothing words beside your ear. 

“You’re alright now, darling.” He said, letting the pet name slip so easily that it frightened him. He rubbed a hand up and down your back, feeling your gasping panic all too quickly soothe away under the firm warmth of his touch. “You’re alright.” 

Almost instinctively, he laid a kiss on your temple, not entirely realising that this wasn’t necessarily something an ex-boyfriend would do - he was so ripe with the urge to comfort you, the need to make your pain go away. He couldn’t help but take a little something selfish as the empathetic waves of your panic echoed over to him. 

“I was never gonna let you fall.” He whispered, almost speaking these words to himself - a sacred promise. 

He had regretted every day since the break-up, and even if he couldn’t be your lover, he was never going to let you get hurt. 

You gripped him tighter, your breathing almost back to normal now, and you pushed your face tighter into his chest, relishing in the firm warmth of his body against you. This was something you hadn’t felt in far too long. Fred placed another kiss on the top of your head. He was about to say something entirely dangerous when another bit of chaos came tumbling through the garden, distracting him away from you and causing the words to die off in his throat. 

Remus, hauling George across the grass - and George, slumped over, a massive amount of blood dripping down the side of his head. 

“Georgie.” Fred gasped quietly. 

Your head whipped around at this, and in sync, you and Fred scrambled to your feet, rushing to see what had happened to him. Fred lifted George’s other arm to help get him inside and safely rested him on the couch. 

It was a horror show. 

The flesh of George’s ear had been blown to bits, blood smearing down across his face and spilling down the side of his neck; he was sickly pale and barely conscious. His eyes only flickered, giving you some sense of life in him when Fred called out his name after making sure he was resting comfortably on the couch. 

“Georgie?” 

There was a rare quiver in Fred’s voice that made your stomach quake. Fear. You were not accustomed to hearing Fred fearful, not of anything. Even when he had abandoned Hogwarts and dove into a career as a shop owner without a single clue if he would find success, he did so without a single bit of fear in his heart. 

But of course - seeing his dear brother like this, knowing that someone he loved had been so close to danger - it made him terrified. 

“Hey, Fred.” George croaked back weakly. 

At least he was conscious enough to speak. That gave you quite a bit of relief. 

“How’re ya feeling?” Fred asked. 

“Saint-like.” George replied, a tired smirk gracing his lips that told you he was forming a joke - something that was utterly hilarious in his mind that would only make sense to others when he delivered the punch line. 

You wanted to sob, you wanted to laugh, you wanted to scream. Of course he would be making jokes only moments after nearly being killed. 

“Come again?” Fred said quietly, tentatively. 

Perhaps it sounded partially dangerous to him like it did to you. Perhaps George felt Saint-like because he was too close to death. 

Both of you and Fred held your breath as you waited for the reply. 

“Saint-like.” George grinned. And then he lifted a tired hand and gestured toward the bloody hole on the side of his head before he delivered his glowing punchline. “I’m holy. I’m holy, Fred. Get it?” 

Fred grinned, and you let out a gasping chuckle that you knew was mostly tears. Behind you, Molly inhaled sharply through her teeth, running a hand over her forehead with the stress, and Ginny shook her head as she exhaled an exhausted sigh. 

“The whole wide world of ear related humour, and you go for ‘I’m holy’?” Fred replied, unable to resist humouring George. “That’s pathetic.” 

You knew that if either of them knew anything about the story of the Muggle painter Van Gogh, then they would have been making jokes in that lane. 

“Reckon I’m still better looking than you.” George added on tiredly. 

“You were always better looking than him.” You said, your voice throttled by tears, unable to resist. 

When you turned around to retreat, you saw Ginny clutching onto Molly, clearly hiding tears in her mother’s shoulder, Molly’s face dancing with a kind of sadness you had never seen before. You knew you couldn’t run from your pain. You had known the Weasleys for so long, loved them too much. You had a distinct kind of duty here. 

“Molly, do you have a cauldron around?” You asked, hating how choked with tears your voice was. “I can whip-up something for his pain. I do it at the shop all the time. And a Sleeping Draught, so he can get some rest.” 

It was true - one of your many duties working at the Apothecary was making and bottling simple, common potions to sell (pregnancy test potions, simple multi-use pain potions, Dreamless Sleep Draughts, cures for warts and other common rashes) - many people liked the convenience of coming in and buying a potion for everyday uses rather than having to make it themselves. 

“There’s no need-” George began to protest, but Fred easily cut him off. 

“Come off it.” Fred hissed toward his brother, not taking kindly to ‘selfless’ idea of George not accepting something for the pain he was clearly in. Then, Fred rose up from his place beside George and turned to you with a look of intense concern on his features. “Whatever you need.” 

… 

You had barely begun to set up everything you needed for the brewing when the others finally came in, bringing more chaos with them. Remus accused Harry of being an imposter, which was quickly proven false. Apparently the Order had been betrayed, which explained the presence of Death Eaters on the mission so easily. They had used inside information to know when Harry was being transported - it was only luck that they had been thrown off by the Polyjuice Potion, having to chase down multiple Harrys and not knowing which one was real (even if George got gravely injured in the process). 

Mad-Eye had been killed. 

You weren’t sure if what you felt was mourning for the man. You hadn’t known him all that well. Not the true version of him, anyway. You continued to weep quietly as you worked on the potions, but you knew it wasn’t specifically for him. His death only served to remind you how truly dangerous the mission had been - how close you, Fred, and George, and the others had all come to death. How lucky it was that nobody else had been killed. 

You tried not to let the suffocating gloom that had overtaken the Burrow due to the near failure of the entire mission disrupt the process of making the potions needed for George. When Molly didn’t have some of the ingredients that you needed, you gave Fred your spare key to the Apothecary and he popped over to get them for you. Mr. Michaelchuk, who ran the place, had always told you to ‘take what you needed’, and this was the one time you had actually taken him up on the offer. 

When Fred returned, he fussed at George’s side, helping him change into pyjamas (when everyone else had cleared out) and tucking him in comfortably to a makeshift bed on the couch, with lots of pillows and extra cosy blankets, to the point where he got annoyed with Fred coddling him. You always knew that the two were good friends in addition to being brothers, as close as two people can be, but you had never seen so much abundant affection between them. It was sweet. 

Molly came back downstairs wearing a plaid dressing gown, with a pair of tiny reading glasses balanced on her nose, her slippers scuffing along the floor. She mentioned that Arthur was already ‘snoring away’ - but of course, she had no intentions of going to bed herself. Because of course, if George was down here on the couch, it was so that she could watch over him while she busied herself with knitting - much like she had when Arthur had been on the ward at St. Mungo’s after he had been attacked by the snake. You had gotten a particularly nice jumper for Christmas that year, one that you still wore often when it got particularly cold outside. 

Fred had settled to sit on the couch by George’s feet, and the two had fallen into a hushed conversation, though you didn’t hear most of it. And of course, it wasn’t long before Molly rushed Fred off to bed, just like she had done with everyone else, wanting to give George the space to rest without distractions from visitors. 

“-just get her back, you idiot.” You hear George hiss in a whisper before Molly pushed Fred toward the stairs. 

He couldn’t possibly be talking about…? 

No. 

No, he wasn’t. 

You didn’t think about it. Instead, you let yourself get lost in the meditative process of brewing, making sure that the potions were perfect. You made sure that George was pain-free and lost to a deep, restful, healing sleep (with a few pre-brewed bottles of the potions to spare that would keep his pain at bay for the next few days) before you finally went upstairs, ready to collapse with exhaustion. 

You passed by Fred and George’s room on your way to your final destination, Ginny’s room, where you would be staying with her and Hermione, from now up until Bill and Fleur’s wedding. After which, you would return to your apartment above the Apothecary and try to resume your best sense of ‘normal’ life. All of your things were already unpacked in Ginny’s room, and you had a sleeping bag set up on the floor there. 

But of course, you naturally came to a stop at the mouth of Fred’s open bedroom doorway, letting an instinctive caring overtake you and participating in the need to check on him. 

The sight you saw made your heart ache. 

Fred was sitting on the edge of his twin bed, his posture slumped with pure exhaustion. He hadn’t even changed out of the now ill-fitting Harry clothes that he had to wear for the mission: jeans, a tee shirt, and a grey sport jacket that were now coated in dirt and traces of George’s blood, all oddly short in the limbs and emphasising his tallness, his hands still stained bright red in a way that couldn’t be washed off. 

His face was marked with tear tracks, and his tired, dead gaze was fixated on George’s still neatly made matching twin bed. A space that was hauntingly empty across from his - a sign that his brother was missing. A sign of just how easily someone precious could have been taken from him that night. 

“Freddie?” 

You croaked out, the nickname slipping out in a way you couldn’t control once again, causing him to snap out of whatever distant, depressing thoughts he was caught in. His head jolted toward you, only now realising that you had been standing in the doorway for so long. 

“Y/N,” He responded, his voice choked by tiredness, sadness. 

It was so alarmingly strange to see someone who was usually the pinnacle of laughter reduced down to this. You had never seen Fred Weasley so sad before. 

You had seen him angry, on occasion - like when someone insulted you, or when he had been banned from Quidditch for getting into a fistfight with Malfoy. You had seen him annoyed - like when he found out that the age to enter the TriWizard Tournament was seventeen, and he was only a few months away from being eligible. (You were thankful for that one, and secretly thankful when his Ageing Potion had failed). 

You had seen Fred go through a lot - but you genuinely believed that was the first time you had seen him so deflated in the face of the world. 

He rose to his feet, turned his back to you, almost as if trying to hide. He raised a hand to his face, and your heart ached more when you realised that he was trying to wipe away tears. 

“Come on, let’s get you ready for bed.” You said, moving forward, gently putting a hand on his shoulder, moving up to peel the sport jacket off him. 

You knew that the sadness, something he so rarely felt, had paralyzed him. You knew that sleep was what all of you needed right now - some rest to get your heads on straight. And you wanted to help him in any way that you could. 

“I can’t-” Fred huffed, stepping away from you, putting some distance between the two of you in the small room. “I can’t do this right now.” 

Your stomach curled into a horrible knot as he echoed the words he had spoken to you on that horrible day, when he had broken up with you and relinquished himself from your presence without a second thought. 

It truly hit you then - he didn’t want your help. He didn’t want to be near you now. He had only held you close a few hours ago because it had been a matter of life and death. He had helped to calm you down because it was the friendly thing to do. He didn’t want you here now. 

“Okay.” You choked out, nodding, taking a step toward the door. “O-okay.” 

A hot tear rolled down your face, and you moved to make your way toward Ginny’s room. You were harshly whipped across the emotional spectrum again when Fred stopped you. 

“Y/N, no.” He said, reaching out and grabbing onto your elbow. “Wait.” 

“What, Fred?” You wheezed, your body breathless and exhausted from the horrible roller coaster that you had been on that night. You knew that you glared at him horribly, but you couldn’t help it. “What is it that you want from me?” 

Fred took a step back, as though you had burned him, running stiff hands through his hair. You could have easily run off, turned your back on him and never spoken to him again. Just like he had done to you on that day so long ago. But you waited with your chest tight, waiting for him to finally give you an answer. Did he want to be friends? Did he want you to disappear from his life completely? Did he want-? 

“I can’t-” He choked out, clearly struggling for breath. “I can’t…” 

He swallowed around a fat tongue, and after a heavy moment, he finally got the words out. 

“I can’t lose you.” 

The words spooked you more than the sight of George’s bloodied, blown-apart ear. 

You stared Fred down with a ghost in your eyes, somehow more terrified than you had been when you had been dangling hundreds of feet above London. He was frantic, rapidly searching for more words to explain himself. 

“I - I almost…” He gasped, his throat tightly constricting again. “You almost slipped out of my hands.” 

He spoke the words as though they were a horrible curse, raising his hands in front of him as if to demonstrate the point, as if to demonise his own limbs for not having enough strength to hold you up. His hands shook with undistilled anxiety, with anger towards himself. 

His declaration gave you that sickly sense of nausea, as though you were back up in the air again. You realised that maybe he hadn’t been sitting on the edge of the bed, mourning about potentially losing George - but instead, he had been thinking about you. 

“I didn’t. I didn’t slip.” You replied, the words choked off in your throat, rushing to assure him of the good he had done. 

You were unable to resist the urge to reach out and take his hands in yours, steadying his grip with a firm anger of your own. You were unsure how he could be so cruel toward himself when he had saved your life only hours before. 

“You held me up, Fred. You didn’t let me fall.” 

He let out a huff, shaking his head negatively. 

You knew there was something more troubling him - something deeper that he had yet to speak of, or perhaps wouldn’t tell you at all. He grinded his jaw tightly and slipped his hands away from yours. You stood there, looking at him tensely, wondering if he was going to clue you in, or if he would simply say goodnight and let himself stew with whatever horrible emotions he was feeling. 

“I can’t live like this.” He declared harshly, his throat raw. “I can’t live with you at arm’s length.” 

So what? Was he saying that… he was upset about the break-up? 

Was he saying that he hadn’t actually wanted to be apart from you? 

A look of pure confusion knit across your features, and in the murky silence, Fred moved on to explaining. 

“I let you go once before.” 

He whispered, the words so quiet on his lips, a crazed type of regret dancing in his eyes - in an instant, you knew he wasn’t talking about the mission or flying. He was talking about how easily he let you go from his life - the break-up. 

“I let you slip away from me far too easily. And it was the stupidest thing I have ever done.” 

“Freddie-?” You choked out, more chaotic emotions rocketing through your body now. Anticipation, anxiety - that love for him that you had bottled away slowly creeping back in. But you couldn’t bear to let it flow through you, not yet, not until you knew. 

“If one of us were to die tomorrow, I couldn’t live my last day knowing that I wasted it not being yours.” He declared, the pure passion in his words causing every small hair on your body to stand up on end, making you dizzy. “I know that I’m the biggest git on earth for what I did to you, and for not apologising sooner, but please, please, please, darling-” 

You couldn’t take it anymore. 

You grabbed both sides of the sport jacket and used it to haul him down toward you, planting your mouth firmly onto his, moaning into a kiss that you had longed for, having so sorely missed the touch of his lips on yours. 

You had missed him so damn much. 

Fred was quick to keep up, letting out a delighted sigh of his own, his stomach doing flips in delight, almost in disbelief of just how lucky he was that you hadn’t slapped him across the face and stormed out. 

When your hands ventured down, smoothing across his body - he became even more delighted that you seemed to want more than a kiss out of him. And he was quick to prepare. 

He reached to his back pocket for his wand and pointed it at the still open bedroom door, performing a quick spell that slammed it shut and locked it. In the back of his mind, he was thankful that his bedroom had some silencing wards around it from the days when Weasleys’ Wizard Wheezes had been in its infancy, operating their prototype experiments out of this room in the darkest hours of the morning. (Percy got sick of being woken up by the twins’ excited voices and the sound of sputtering cauldrons, and put the silencing wards around their room for his own sake, not knowing how much more it let the twins get away with.) 

Fred was surprised when you took another fitful grip on the front of his shirt, using it to direct him back toward his bed and shoving him down onto it with a strength that he barely knew you had. He fell sideways across the small twin bed, his knees crumbling along the side of the mattress, leaving him sitting with his feet on the floor and his body half collapsed against the tightly tucked-in covers that his mother had prepared before everyone’s arrival. 

He was utterly weak to your whims, anyway, and would have gone wherever you put him. 

He was expecting you to climb on top of him, something needy inside of him yearning for the feeling of your body on top of his after missing it for so long. And he found himself further surprised when you dropped to your knees in front of him, settling your shoulders between his spread thighs, forcing him to spread his legs wider apart to accommodate you. The action spiking a sharp breath out of his lips when you shoved up the hem of the shirt that technically wasn’t his and reached for the button on the jeans that fit him even worse as his cock grew to life underneath them. 

“Y/N, darling-” He choked out, breathy and sharp through his teeth, an intense wave of lust hitting him all at once. 

All night, both of you had been through the emotional ringer - calm determination, fear, possessiveness, mild relief, grief. All while trying to hold back your emotions for each other, balancing right on the edge. Trying desperately to hold each other at arm’s length. 

And now he had you right where he wanted you, where he had been dreaming of you being for months since the break-up; and for some stupid reason, some part of him still felt that it was wrong. That part of him screaming that he should be the one on his knees serving you, that he needed to better apologise-

He reached for your shoulder, clearly trying to coax you back up onto the bed with him, and you swatted the touch away. 

“Don’t-” You choked in return, continuing on your determined path, ripping his zipper down and tugging at the waistband of his jeans. “Freddie, please. Let me do this.” 

You looked up at him with a glassy heat in your eyes that he had never seen before. All the times he had pinned you against walls in quiet corners at Hogwarts, with his hand up your skirt - he had never seen you so wild, so desperate. 

Something utterly possessive rippled through you - something that screamed that you needed to have him weak and moaning for you, that you needed to worship him, to thank him for doing the impossible and saving your life. He was a strong, wonderful man and you needed to taste that strength. You needed to know that you were the only thing that could have him weak, quivering, begging. 

“Fuck-” Fred hissed out when you reached past the band of his underwear and grabbed his cock - your warm touch wrapped around his shaft felt like a deadly awakening, especially when it had been so long since anything but his own had had touched his cock. 

All too soon, he surrendered to you entirely and lifted his hips, slipping the fabric of his jeans and his underwear down completely past his thighs, letting you have whatever you wanted from him. He supposed that’s how it always went with the two of you - he would let you have whatever you wanted, even before you asked. (That’s why the break-up had gone down the way it had - it had been the one time he had been stubborn on something, not simply letting you have your own way.) 

You took him in your hand, slowly pumping his length as you admired him, gently re-familiarising yourself with his body, feeling like it had been far too long. 

“Did you miss it, darling?” He asked, looking down the length of his body at you with a cocky smile stretched across his soft lips. 

You rolled your eyes, hating the possibility of making his ego any larger. 

“Oh yes, your wonderful big cock was the thing I missed most about you,” You griped in return, hoping that your sarcastic tone was more than apparent. 

“I knew you only wanted me for my body.” Fred chuckled. 

As much as you wanted to deny it - Fred Weasley’s cock was a marvel that you couldn’t have forgotten if you had tried. 

During your time apart, it haunted your heated dreams, turning them into nightmares of pure want, your mind dangling something in front of you that you couldn’t have. It made things even worse when he would come into the Apothecary, flirting with you and flashing you a smile, showing off his broad shoulders in those fine tailored suit jackets and making your eyes flicker to his zipper in an utterly whorish way. 

Now, you felt spoiled to have it in front of you again - the perfect beastly eight inches, lean and tall just like he was, curved off slightly to the side, sticking off from a sparse patch of ginger hair. 

Your pussy clenched as you thought about having him inside of you again for the first time in so long, giving you that perfectly full feeling that your fingers never could - but you craved his taste first. You wanted him under your control - you knew part of it was driven by all the fear you had experienced that night, all the chaos that had made you feel so powerless. You needed to feel alive, needed to wield power over someone, something. 

You got your mouth on his cock with a downright feral hunger. 

Fred let out a deep moan and threw his head back, collapsing onto his elbows as the heat and wetness of your mouth enveloped the heat of his cock - it sent another wave of lust zipping through him, reminding him just how throbbing hard he was, just how much he needed you. This was made even worse when you moaned around him - you couldn’t help but to enjoy the feeling of his cock in your mouth, perfectly full, making you choke in such a beautiful way when you dropped down to take more of him. 

“Fuck, darling, shite-” 

You quickly became drunk on the feeling. 

Your eyes fell closed and you simply let yourself enjoy it, loving the fullness of his big, beautiful cock filling up your mouth. With a hand loosely wrapped around the base of his cock, your jaw wide as you began bobbing your head. Your tongue flat against the base, tasting as much of him as you could while you enjoyed the feeling of him so fat and thick in your mouth, gagging you slightly whenever the round tip hit against the back of your throat. It was a perfect, slow rhythm that agonised him and delighted you, and soon had spit pooling around your knuckles. 

The wetness drove him even more insane, especially when it allowed for your soft lips to move slicker against his shaft. 

“Goddammit, please, please, oh-” 

You could feel his thighs begin to quake and quiver beside you, and you wondered if he was close already. 

You couldn’t resist the urge to pull off - wanting to tease him a little. Part of you wanted that bit of revenge, wanting to get him back for the pain he had caused you when he had turned his back on you that day. Though you weren’t entirely cruel, and you didn’t leave him hanging out to dry completely. 

You kept your hand pumping on his now spit-slicked cock (it was that slow, agonising rhythm that caused him to pant like a needy dog), and you moved your mouth downward, giving in to the personal urge to lick and suck on his heavy balls. You did want to drive him a bit more insane, and give into your personal curiosity about what the heavy sac would feel like against your tongue. 

“Fucking - oh - darling, what are you doing to me-? That fucking mouth-” 

Fred wasn’t sure if this was heaven or hell. 

It left him stuck in some sick purgatory where the woman he loved had turned into a sex-crazed vixen, but wouldn’t let him touch you everywhere he wanted to most. Instead, he was sentenced to stare at you as your gorgeous mouth teased his aching cock, making him harder, driving him madder with every stroke of your little devilish tongue. He couldn’t take it anymore - not when your pretty fingers gripped around the base of his cock just right and your lips suctioned so perfectly around one of his bullocks. 

He wouldn’t waste the night cumming over your fist without getting his hands on you properly first. 

He weaved his fingers into your hair and yanked you back, caused you to let out a small yelp - not one of pain, but a bitter sound of complaint as you were pulled off his cock too early for your liking. The sharp tingle of him pulling on your hair caused your tongue to lull out, trailing a filthy bit of spit back to his balls that had him growling. 

Before any words could form, he leaned down and used this grip on your hair to guide you to his lips, shoving his tongue into your open, waiting mouth - something that had you moaning once again, and easily following his lead as he guided you up to sit on his thigh. 

“Don’t expect that I’m gonna waste it all over your hand, darling.” He murmured against your lips between heated kisses. “When I cum tonight, it’s gonna be deep inside your sweet cunt, yeah?” 

You moaned loudly at this. 

You had devolved past the point of words now - having his cock so thick and heavy in your mouth only making you fuzzy-headed and more needy for him. You unconsciously canted your hips against his thigh, grinding your pussy against him through the fabric of your jeans, needing more. You panted against his cheek as he moved deft fingers to undo the button and zipper of your pants while he continued to speak. 

“I need you, pretty girl.” 

He growled lowly in your ear, the pure passion of the declaration causing such intense waves of lust through you that you would have collapsed - if not for the brick wall of his muscled body holding you up. (Hold you up for the dozenth time that night, only for a drastically different reason this time). 

“I need to see you cum on my cock. Missed this pretty cunt so much, can’t wait-” 

He trailed off in his crazed lustful ramblings when he shoved his fingers past the now open fly of your jeans and into your underwear, quickly finding a distinct wetness and landing on your clit with a firm touch like a magnet. 

“Freddie!” You wept into his neck, bucking into the touch as you tumbled into a madness of your own. 

He began circling quickly on your clit, enjoying your gasps and other sounds, enjoying the feeling of you bucking so wildly on his thigh. All too soon, he was overtaken by a little pinch of mischief that always crept up on him. The urge to get you back for your earlier teasing. He quickly removed his hand and felt a smirk spread across his lips at the deflated little whimper you made, your eyes snapping open just in time to catch him licking your wetness off his fingers. 

“Fred-” You began to protest, sharp demanding in your tone. 

“Come on, get these clothes off,” He said, giving you a firm pat on the ass that made you far too weak to his whims. 

“Freddie-” You whined this time - and rather than giving into you, he brought up a fantastic point. 

“The faster you get your clothes off, the faster I can get my cock in you.” He whispered hotly against your ear, making you shiver. 

You hated that he was right. 

You stood up, moving to strip your shirt off over your head, glaring at him the whole time while he also began to strip himself. 

“Go on, good girl.” 

You hated how those words made you even wetter. You hated how easily he manipulated you based on weaknesses he knew so well. 

“I hate you.” You mumbled quietly, absolutely no heat in the words as you reached to unclip your bra. 

“Oh darling, if only that were true.” 

He said pointedly, mourning peeking through that bit of mischief in his eyes. Something you didn’t have too much time to decode as stood to his full height to untangle his jeans from his legs, knowing that you would quake in his shadow and become even more turned on from this. 

Once you were both naked, he ushered you down onto the bed, making sure that you were comfortable with your head on the pillow as he captured your mouth in another needy kiss. You moaned against his lips, easily sucking his tongue in as you tangled your fingers into that fiery red hair and gave an appreciative tug. You then tucked your knee up over his hip, opening yourself up to him - this caused his heavy cock to brush against your wetness, making you gasp into his mouth as the two of you made contact for the first time in far too long. 

“Freddie-” You gasped, unconsciously bucking your hips up, causing your pussy to wetly slide against his cock in a way that forced a deep groan out of him. “Oh, fuck, oh-” 

“Shh, darling, Daddy’s got you,” Fred replied, palming across your forehead and your hair in an almost gentle way while he further parted your thighs with a firm knee. 

His words caused you to choke on another moan. 

You had heard Fred refer to himself as ‘Daddy’ before - but much like everything else in his life, it was always a joke. He would be buying his favourite sweets and mumble ‘come to Daddy’ before tearing open the package and devouring them. He would say that his codename was ‘Big Daddy’ when setting up a particularly epic prank. (George was ‘Big Red’ and you were usually ‘Darling’ or ‘Garden Flower’. They were not the most useful or top secret codenames.) You had heard him jokingly shout ‘Daddy’s home’ when returning to the Gryffindor common room, only to have the expected laughs and jokes in return. 

You had never expected that the name would turn you on so much. But you had never, ever expected to hear it in this context. You had also never expected that it would sound so natural in this context. But it suited him so well. It seemed to only compliment the gentle kind of caring he gave you - how protective he was over you, how safe he made you feel. 

“Daddy,” You moaned in return - Fred gripped your hip with a deadly, bruising grip and looked at you with a fierce heat in his eyes. 

Hearing that word from your lips turned him on in a way he couldn’t explain. And in that moment, it took every bit of his personal will not to slam his cock into you and hammer his hips forward until you said it again, and again, and again. Until you screamed it. 

He took a hold of his cock with the other hand, and you expected him to slide into you, finally giving you both what you truly needed - but instead, he began rubbing the round head of his cock against your clit, further teasing you. You let out a gasp and looked at him with pleading in your eyes. 

“Freddie,” You whined, attempting to angle your hips up, fruitlessly trying to trick him to slip his cock inside of you. You knew him too well, knowing that once he got the tip in, he wouldn’t be able to resist fucking you senseless. But he held you down with the hand on your hip, making you barely able to move at all against his muscular hold and the awkward angle he had you pinned with. 

“Come on, sweets,” He purred, laying a kiss on your forehead, and then your cheek, trailing kisses down your neck as he murmured against your skin. “Tell Daddy what you need. Say the word and I’ll give you anything you want.” 

He began roughly smacking his cockhead against your clit, making you jolt and gasp sharper, making your pussy leak furiously against the bed. You cried out and gripped his hair tightly, almost meanly, desperate for the teasing to end. You didn’t see the way he was staring at your cunt, mesmerised by the sight of your swollen pearl kissing against his cock, glistening, wet and needy. Something that he would burn into his brain forever and most definitely revisit on lonely nights. 

“Please, Daddy!” You moaned, hoping the name alone would goad him into giving in. But you knew what he truly wanted, and you couldn’t wait any longer. “Please - fuck - I need your cock. I need you to fuck me, I need-” 

Perhaps he was truly satisfied by this, or perhaps he couldn’t take the teasing anymore himself - either way, he finally guided his cock down to your pulsing entrance and pushed in, swearing hotly under his breath when the tight, wet, perfect heat of your cunt began sucking him in for the first time in over a year. 

“Oh, oh fuck, Freddie,” You moaned, tugging on his hair. “Oh-” 

“Fucking perfect,” He swore into your ear. “Dammit, I’ve missed this pussy so much.” He choked on a groan as he continued slowly inching his hips forward, splitting you open with his massive length, making your pussy ache and burn in the most perfect way. “Good girl. So good for me. So good for Daddy,” 

You both moaned loudly once he was fully seated inside of you - you, feeling that deep satisfaction of feeling so perfectly full once again, and Fred so deeply enjoying the wet warmth of your pussy around him that was so irreplaceable because it was you. 

Sensing your need, especially after all his teasing, and after spending so long without him - he didn’t make you wait any longer. 

Fred began rocking his hips into yours at a gentle, even pace, not wanting to hurt you. From the sound of your gentle whines and the feeling of you squirming beneath him, he could tell that you needed more. He could tell that now wasn’t the time for holding back. 

He let out a gentle grunt and you became even more heated and curious as he began shifting around, some clear intent on his mind. You let out a sharp gasp when he raised himself up on his knees, poising himself in the perfect position to fuck you hard, deep, and powerful. Then, he made it even more deadly when he grabbed you by the backs of your thighs, making more air hiss out through your lips when he pressed your body practically in half, pressing your knees up toward your chest before he hooked his arms under your legs to keep them there and planted his hands firmly on either side of your chest. 

The two of you were even closer, even more intimate, and you felt him so much deeper inside of you. 

“Freddie,” 

You croaked out darkly, already feeling him so much deeper as he settled in above you. Your pussy was leaking furiously around him now, clenching tightly and waiting for him to move as a ghost of dark mischief danced through his eyes that promised you were in for the sweetest kind of hell. 

“Good?” He asked, smirking at you. 

“Yes, but what about-?” 

You wanted to warn him not to make too much noise, not to break the bed, which was already creaking in protest underneath the two of you - but he didn’t entirely care. Fred never truly cared about the consequences of his actions once he got an idea in his head - to him, the thrill was more than worth whatever pain may befall him. 

The only time that hadn’t been true was when he had made the foolish, heat-of-the-moment mistake of breaking up with you. And now, he had to make up for it. 

He put all the power into his muscled thighs (the same muscled thighs that had saved you just a few hours ago by gripping onto his broom and steadying the flight) - and ploughed forward with intense power. This began an unforgiving, hard rhythm of pounding into your cunt in hard, deep, fast strokes. 

In seconds, you were putty beneath him - he had you perfectly pinned in place so that you couldn’t have moved an inch if you wanted to, all you could do was lay there and take it. You were weak against the savage movements of his long cock fucking into your swollen pussy over and over again, filling you up in the best way you could have imagined, becoming everything you needed in the world. 

As the room filled with the harsh, wet slaps of his skin against yours and your weak moans, followed by his increasingly animalistic grunts - all there was in the world was you and Fred, the space where the two of you met, the place where he had your thighs pinned open so that his cock could absolutely ruin your pussy.  

“Good girl, such a good girl for me,” He growled against your lips - you moaned pathetically in return, flooding even more wetness around his cock, making the sound of him fucking into you embarrassingly slicker. “Never should have let you go. Should have kept you right here, right where you belong,” 

You wanted to tell him that perhaps the fight was both of your faults, that you should have reached out to him sooner and told him that you wanted him back. That the time apart had been so dreadfully tender for you too. 

But your brain was soup, only further stirred up by the tip of his cock poking around in your guts. So any words you could have said chased out of your lungs with every passionate thrust of his hips up into your wet pussy, and all you managed in return was: 

“Daddy! Fuck, oh-!” 

“Shh, darling, I know.” Fred mumbled into your neck, taking a sloppy, greedy lick of your skin. “I know, sweets. Daddy’s gonna give you what you need. Gonna keep you fucked n’ full. Never gonna let you go again. Never gonna let anyone else touch you-” 

Fred’s hips stuttered and you tightly squeezed around his cock at the words. 

Perhaps it was a wink of his personal insecurity peeking through. The horrifying idea that because he had broken up with you, you might find somebody else. When in fact, you had been so caught up on him, only thinking about him, waiting for him. (The whole time, thinking that he had broken up with you because he no longer had any favour in his heart for you.) 

“Just you, Freddie.” You breathed out, desperately trying to get air past your now very chapped lips. “Always yours-” 

“Yes, mine.” He replied, that crazed desperation returning to his voice. “Mine, my girl.” 

He sealed his lips against yours, grinding his hips tightly against your pelvis rather than fucking you with any kind of rhythm now - showing you just how deep he was inside of you, just how much he owned you, truly, from the inside out. It was something that made your stomach clench, made your body buzz with electricity, and made you whine around his tongue. 

You were close. 

Fred knew this - he knew you too well. He moved a hand down to your clit, letting one of your legs drop slightly, and had two determined fingers on your throbbing clit while he picked up the pace again, pulling his lips back from yours. 

“You gonna cum for me? Gonna cum for Daddy like a good girl?” 

His words, his velvet voice speaking to you so commanding yet so sweet, were what truly brought your orgasm to life in your belly. His voice made the fullness of his cock and the sharpness of his fingers on your clit all the more electric. You likely could have cum just from his words alone if he kept speaking to you that way. 

“Yes, Daddy.” You moaned in response. 

“Good girl. Come on,” 

He breathed hotly against your chin, his eyes now eagerly dancing from your face to the space where your cunt hugged his dick, leaking around him in such a wonderfully filthy way. Clearly, he wasn’t sure where he wanted to look, what part of the show he was more eager to witness after missing out on you for too long. 

“Come on, cum on my cock. Cum for me, love, good girl-” 

His heated words trailed off as your head snapped back and your eyes squeezed shut, your fingers digging sharply into his bicep as your orgasm rocked your body. Fred grunted as he continued to fuck you through it, his eyes glued to you, taking in every single inch of the sexy beauty that was you, the love of his life, as you thrashed and moaned and came on his cock. It was the most perfect sight he could have imagined, and he easily ingrained into his mind forever, praying that he would never have to miss out on it - to miss out on you - ever again. 

“Yes, yes darling, so good for me, so good-” He practically choked on his own words, his voice so thick with lust that it barbed the insides of his throat. 

As he felt the last weak spasms of your pussy around his cock, he stopped rubbing your sore clit and became possessed with a new need, becoming slightly selfish now. He fucked his hips forward even harder, determined to find his own pleasure inside the sweet, soft walls of your cunt. 

“Fucking hell-” He choked out a groan, dropping his head into your neck again as you petted through his hair, encouraging him through it while he unintentionally sent sharp zaps of overstimulation through your pussy with every needy, sharp push of his hips. 

“Freddie,” You breathed out. “Come on, Daddy, cum for me. You’ve been so good to me, come on-” 

He let you another loud growl and pounded into you harder, dropping his hold on your other knee and letting your legs rest to cradle around his waist as he blindly chased his own end inside your soft, wet cunt. 

“Gonna fill you up, gonna fill you up so good,” He whispered into your neck, chanting like a man possessed, sending another unexpected wave of heat through you that made you moan weakly. “All mine, all mine, darling, all mine, gonna give you what you need, fuck-” 

He tried to silence his moans into your neck as he stiffened his back and finally came - his own orgasm hitting him like a firework. He shoved his hips forward stiffly one last time, seating his cock deeply inside of you, stuffing you full, just like he had promised. He gentled grinded his hips against yours in mindless, stuttering strokes while he pumped spurts of hot cum deep inside of you - something that made your body buzz with even more heat and made you moan in return, clutching onto him tightly with your legs around his waist and your arms around his shoulders. 

“Oh darling, oh-” He muttered quietly against your neck as the last waves of his orgasm washed over him. 

It was so perfect, and made you feel so utterly connected to him. It was a distinct reminder of everything you had missed - his warmth, his caring, the thrill he gave you while at the same time making you feel so damn safe. 

When Fred moved to pull away from you, moving to break that connection, every instinct in your body screamed that it was wrong. You clenched your legs around him, digging a heel into his lower back to keep him close, and he let out a grunt - still dizzy from his orgasm and unsure what you were doing. But he settled back into place, creating a filthy ‘squish’ between the two of you. 

“Just hold me.” You said, having no clue when the tears had returned to your eyes, making your voice so clearly wet. “I missed you. I can’t lose you.” 

“Hey, hey shh.” He said, leaning up to kiss along your cheek, rushing to kiss away those tears. “I’m right here with you, darling. I’m not going anywhere. You’re not going to lose me.” 

He wrapped his arms around you, wiggling his grip between your back and the mattress to do so. This created the most stunning cocoon, forcing your two bodies even closer together - it wasn’t long before he became soft inside of you, but he stayed there for as long as he reasonably could, kissing along your forehead, your cheeks, your neck, uttering quiet reassurances that you weren’t going to lose him, that you wouldn’t have to miss him any longer. 

It made you incredibly content and warm. At least while it lasted. 

When Fred finally pulled out of you, you felt a deep sense of dissatisfaction and loneliness, which you tried to ignore. Especially because you weren’t sure if he would want you to sleep in his bed - which was something that you wanted very much, especially after the long day you had. But you weren’t sure if he wanted to be left alone to contemplate all of it, to be sure of his decision to take you back. 

You jumped to get out of the bed as though it were on fire, and when you looked to your rumpled clothes on the floor - your jeans still stained with dirt from when you had collapsed in the garden, your shirt likely reeking of sweat from the nerves of everything that had happened - the idea of putting those clothes back on wasn’t exactly appealing. 

Then, something else came to mind. 

“My things are in Ginny’s room…” 

You sighed, realising that if you wanted a pair of pyjamas for the night, or even a fresh pair of underwear, then you would have to waltz in and wake her up - and likely be interrogated about where you had been. She was all too knowing anyway, and any excuses you gave about spending the time caring for George or simply having a ‘talk’ with Fred would be seen right through by her. 

Fred hummed, and stood, and you were surprised when he comfortably went over to the chest of drawers against the wall at the end of his bed, going right to the top drawer. The drawer where you used to keep some of your things when you stayed with the Weasleys on holidays - and surely enough, a small collection of your things were still in there. 

Things that he had never returned to you after the break-up that you had never thought to ask for. You had no idea that he often came to this drawer, sneaking mournful whiffs of your scent - even used your shirts as a pillow case if he was feeling particularly lonely. 

He pulled out a pair of your comfortable sleep shorts and a large, soft, worn green tee shirt with a large shamrock on the front and a ‘94 on the back that he had bought for you as a souvenir from The World Cup. It had been your all time favourite sleep shirt, and you had wondered where it had disappeared to when you moved into your apartment above the Apothecary once you started the job. 

“I hope these still fit.” He said, handing you the clothes. 

“They should.” You said - quiet, careful not to acknowledge the elephant in the room. The fact that he had kept your things all this time. 

“Unfortunately I don’t have any panties for you, so…” He trailed off, a filthy grin plucking up over his cheeks once again when the implication hit the air - the fact that you would be commando underneath your clothing. 

“Yeah, very unfortunate in your eyes, I’m sure, Fred.” You huffed, turning toward the door. “I should go get cleaned up.” 

You let out a small squeak when two strong arms encircled your waist, pulling you sharply back, causing you to collide with the wonderful, bare, muscled, now slightly sweaty body. You couldn’t help but to melt into the touch, and you let out a quiet moan as he began kissing your neck - not in a particularly lustful way, but in a way that was purely loving and affectionate. 

“Don’t think you’re getting away from me that easy, darling.” He whispered in your ear. “Please, do come back afterwards. You know I like to cuddle,” 

You didn’t think that you had ever heard Fred Weasley say ‘please’ for anything so plainly in his life. But, as usual when it came to him, you wanted exactly what he wanted. 

“Only if you insist.” You joked lightly, smoothing a hand over his arm that was still tightly encircled around your middle. “I suppose I can clear some time in my very busy schedule for cuddling,” 

Fred quietly let out a ‘yes’ in celebration, and hesitantly let you go. He then collapsed back onto the bed, relaxing spread eagle, still confidently naked against the covers with his hands behind his head against the pillow. You couldn’t help it when your eyes did a once-over of his body, admiring the soft planes of his muscles that had come from hard work rather than a distinct workout routine and the beautiful bit of fat on his lower belly that made him so warm and nice to cuddle. Of course, when your eyes met his, he was smirking at you. 

“I’ll be waiting, love.” He told you with a wink. 

You rolled your eyes at this, biting your lip to suppress a smile at his somewhat deserved cockiness. 

You moved to leave the room with your newly acquired clothes, wanting to freshen up in the bathroom a bit before going to sleep (the bathroom was right across the hall, so you would have to sneak across the way naked and hope that nobody would catch you, but it should be fine at this time of night). But when your hand twisted the knob and it didn’t budge, you remembered that Fred had locked it earlier. 

He moved to grab his wand from the pocket of his pants, splayed out in the middle of the floor, but you reached for the jeans first. Your wand was still downstairs beside the cauldron that had brewed the potions for George, but often, you found that Fred’s wand worked fine for you. 

Ollivander and other wand experts said that a wizard couldn’t find the same kind of success using a wand that wasn’t their own, but you found using Fred’s to be just as natural, like an extension of your own arm. Perhaps it was because his core was a Dragon Heart’s String, and that heart beat for you just as fondly as his own did. Either way, it was a fine substitution. You unlocked the door easily and tossed the wand back to him where he was sitting on the bed, and then you snuck across the hall to clean up and get dressed. 

When you came back, Fred had crawled under the covers and was starting to fall asleep. When you crawled in alongside him, you found that he hadn’t bothered to get dressed, so you locked the door again, just in case. It was a basic charm that anybody could get through, but it would give the two of you a few minutes of warning to make yourselves decent if somebody did come knocking. 

It felt like the most wonderfully natural thing in the world to settle beside him, wrapping an arm around his waist while he slept on his back, putting your head on his chest and feeling his sleepy fingers brush across your head from behind. 

“Goodnight, love.” He whispered, so quiet as though he was afraid to break apart a beautiful daydream. 

“Goodnight, Freddie.” 

… 

You wondered if all of it had been a dream. 

Fred apologising to you, begging for your forgiveness, the two of you having amazing sex - it was something you had dreamt about many times before. It was something you had wished would come true, only to find yourself waking up alone in a cold bed. So waking up next to Fred, with his large, warm body coiled up against your back like a koala was one of the best ways you could have come into a new day. 

It wasn’t long before the smell of Molly’s cooking reached your nose - the wonderful fatty sizzle of sausages and the bready warmth of toast that told you she was frying up a full English (likely because she had been having trouble sleeping after the events of the night before). Your stomach gave a painful pang, making you want to get out of bed to eat just as much as you wanted to stay cuddled up with Fred. 

You gently petted a touch along Fred’s heavy arm that was wrapped possessively around your waist, and soon, he sucked in a sharp breath as he too began to stir. 

“Merlin, I missed this.” He said, leaning in to smother you with more of his perfect warmth as he somehow crowded tighter against your back, kissing along your clothed shoulder and up your neck once again. 

Your heart fluttered with the sweetness, the fondness of it all, and you wondered how such a hellish night had made way to such a perfect morning. 

“I wish we could stay in bed forever, Freddie, but I think your Mum is making breakfast.” You remarked, finding yourself more aware of your hunger as you woke up more, and more drawn to the delicious smells. 

“We can stay here for a bit longer.” He hummed into your neck. 

Just then - his stomach let out a loud groan of protest, and you giggled. 

“Come on, Big Daddy needs to eat too.” You said, using the nickname in a more playful, joking manner as you patted his thigh, untangling yourself from his arms as you got out of bed. 

You were surprised, and slightly victorious when you saw a slight blush tinging his pale cheeks because of the teasing, the way you had used the nickname. It was amazing to see someone like Fred go from so powerful and confident to fluttering with shyness. 

“I have to find some trousers,” He remarked, suddenly remembering that he was naked. 

“I’ll meet you downstairs,” You grinned, walking across to the bathroom, lucky to beat anybody else there before the others started waking up. 

When you hit the bottom stair, Fred was standing at the back of the couch with his back to you, now fully dressed in a pair of comfortable plaid sleep pants and an old Chudley Cannons shirt that must have belonged to Ron. (It was only because of many winding discussions about Quidditch among the boys that you hadn’t even wanted to hear that you knew the Cannons were Ron’s team and the twins hated them.) 

Fred was leaning over, clearly talking to George, who was still laying where the two of you had left him the night before. You hated that your instinct was to stand back where neither of them had seen you and listen in on their conversation - but you had only learned such matters from Mr. and Mr. Extentenable Ear themselves. 

“...well, yes, I would say that it did go well, but I would still have to classify the nature of the relationship as dubious. Or friendly at best.” Fred said in a rushed whisper. 

Your stomach gave a twist. This time you had to assume that the twins were talking about you. Talking about what had happened between the two of you the night before. 

“Dubious?” George’s voice baulked, clearly trying to stay hushed himself, but having a hard time restraining his volume due to frustration - frustration at not being able to get a better answer out of his brother. “The two of you had sex and you’re classifying the nature of the relationship as dubious? Are you an idiot or was the sex that horrible?” 

You choked down a laugh at this, not wanting to be caught just yet, and resisting the urge to speak up and clarify that the sex was, in fact, great. 

“No, she seemed perfectly satisfied, thank you very much.” Fred hissed back, full of sass. You would have said more than ‘satisfied’ - for once, Fred was actually being humble. “But I just didn’t think to stop and ask: oh, by the way, does this mean that we’re back together and you still love me? Or were just scared and lonely after almost dying and wanted a decent lay? Can you fill out a post-orgasm survey to clarify, please, and make sure to-” 

An arm came up from the couch with a pillow, smacking Fred clear in the chest - hard enough to force a small grunt out of him. George was certainly feeling better. You were glad to know that your potions had done him some good. 

“You should have just asked, you numpty!” George scolded him. “You’ve been mooning over losing her for-” 

“Y/N,” Fred cut off his twin’s words by saying your name, announcing your presence as that smack with the pillow had caused him to finally turn his head and spot you there. 

“Fred.” You grinned, not at all ashamed that you had been caught. 

You walked over to the couch, leaning over to find George grinning at you in a way that said he was holding back a barrage of stomach shaking laughter because of the conversation you had caught the two of them in. 

“For the record, I would call the sex more than satisfactory.” You said, a mischievous grin coming over your lips. “And I do still love you.” You announced, turning toward Fred. “I was lonely and scared last night, but that’s why I came to you. You’re the only person I want to go to when I feel that way. I missed you. And I want you back if you’ll have me.” 

“Merlin, of course I’ll have you.” Fred breathed out a sigh of relief, now grinning as well. “I love you more than anything, darling. You have no idea how much I’ve missed you.” 

“I have some idea, and it was bloody annoying.” George muttered out, only to be ignored. 

You leaned in for a kiss, naturally, but just as Fred’s lips brushed yours, George let out a loud, fake gagging sound - one that had Molly running into the room, clearly fretting and worried that George was actually ill. 

“I’m fine, Mum.” George groaned as Molly began patting down his head with a wet cloth - clearly, his night had been filled by the annoying, but loving fuss of his mother watching over him. 

“Yes, yes of course.” Molly nodded, hesitantly putting the cloth down. “It’s time for breakfast anyway - do you feel up for sitting at the table, dear?” 

“I would love to get off this bloody couch.” George groaned. 

Fred rushed around to help him up, and after a moment of struggle to his feet, you grabbed his other arm to help him along into the kitchen. 

“I suppose it all worked out for the better.” George said, smiling at you. “Even if you did end up with the less attractive twin.” 

You rolled your eyes, biting back a smile at this.

...

A/N: This fic is a oneshot, and there will not be a continuation or a 'Part 2'. This is a capsule story meant to be read independently, and in terms of the narrative, there will not be a continuation. If you are going to leave a comment, please comment about the body of work that has been written here, do not comment asking for more. If you would like to read more of my fics, please take a look at my Harry Potter Masterlist, more specifically, my other Fred Weasley fic - Kisses Like Fire Whiskey. Thank you if you have gotten this far, and happy reading!

[kyrodo]

Marcus was a welcome sight after Ronnie & Friends shat on me and left. Marcus also played a role in my initial head canon with Ronnie. Being a horror fan, really liking pyramid head and silent hill, overall text style. Ronnie very much reminded me of Marcus in his younger years. Marcus was a college friend I met alongside Red, originally Sally.

He was crazy, he was funny, he was fun to be around, cussed freely and always had stories to tell from the darkest sides of the Internet to a loose life in highschool. It was really fun hanging out with him and he always had so much energy.

And that's partly why I thought I would get along with Ronnie just as well. But my approach to him in many ways was off. I kept throwing out all these random memories to get Ronnie up to speed on me, to catch him up to where Marcus is history wise without actually experiencing it. Even though that is not the way to approach someone old or new.

I kept wussing out, sometimes overdramatically because I didn't know if I was gonna lose Red or not. I was overreactive to any small reason I could think of, or I'd "social distance" because I felt like the subtext side of things was too toasty on his end.

But Pennsylvania was a dream future. My thought was that it'd be like how Orange County used to be for me and Red, where everybody we knew was within reach, mostly people we met at the Prancing Skiltaire. Except it'd be Ronnie's friends and I'd slowly get in touch with them the same way I did with my furry pack during college.

So a lot of my subtext respected that dream. It wasn't just Ronnie I wanted. I wanted to make friends with his to replace mine. The people I was leaving behind when I went to Utah. Utah had nothing for me. Balloontoes, Red's contact, was suicidal and had serious long-standing mental and emotional issues that put even Shadetail to shame. His friends and his wife were a very cheap replacement for my friends. We only got to see them twice, but my impressions were not good. Kitami had issues with remembering people, one of them joined us at peloton but was not a good worker, one of them was religious which I have a distaste for, and the wife was okay I guess. I didn't much care for Red having to babysit for them as they did have a baby over there, and babies remind me of my own mortality. I also don't like the smell or pretty much anything else to do with them caregiving wise. I don't find human babies cute at all. Kittens, puppies sure. A human baby is kinda disgusting. And given the sus art I'm into I don't want to associate myself any further than that for fear of what people would think of me.

I have a lot of reasons to avoid them. And back when I was about to turn 30, I wanted the least amount of reminders I was getting older as I could. In a sense my aversion to them is a childish denial of time. I wanted to be young forever. Because the happiest days of my life were in college. When I was discovering the furry fandom, going to cons being on the dance floor during cons etc. I had an extremely good time and a building social circle. And I had Red.

And I missed that so much that I wanted to recreate that time through Ronnie. Even if the way I was trying to do it was a poor attempt at best.

I never had to experience meeting someone like me growing up, and that is about as much as I can apologize for. I've never had to be around a has-been and keep them as a friend. I didn't necessarily make the effort to be all that appealing. I was always being an unhealthy looking mess. I made it clear before we met that something about me was off. Every choice I made including crushing on you was impulsive and a means of coping with where I got in life.

And I think we can both agree neither of us had to experience meeting each other at all. I have no business even being in orbit of you. Your life is way too different from mine. Having you see it firsthand why was a treat at first until I realize how openly hostile the act was towards me. My feelings used to allow me to overlook a lot of shit in temporary bursts. Since giving up completely was going to hurt more than accepting you were trying to hurt me. That's over now.

My bubble had to burst somehow. I sincerely wish you chose a better way but it made it easier to move on without looking back. Looking back used to be extremely addicting whether things were going well or not. Moreso than watching the news. But you gave me many reasons to stop.

Most of all the fact that you always took advantage of it to get to me. Guilt trip me into talking to you etc. The only way things would have truly ended is if one of us stopped completely. And I was volunteered.

The only way to stop a feedback loop is to stop giving feedback.

I did find my alternative to you. And he doesn't come with preemptive difficulty scaling. He doesn't come with your short temperment and he doesn't give up on me every chance he gets. He doesn't run away from any conversation that is remotely deep. He doesn't put me on stage for people to throw pebbles at. He's as much wrapped around my thumb as Red is and he loves Red too. What else is there to say.

You used to always be content in leaving me second guessing the meaning behind everything. I'd rather experience than guess, and I am experiencing. I am experiencing everything you pussyfooted out of being for me. And words in my world have meaning. Everything you thought wasn't even "possible" with me and Red, here we are.

Your constant riddles and off-putting reactions always made it feel like I have to prove something to you, no matter how I word anything and no matter what I'm talking about. Well I proved everything now. I proved it could have worked. I proved the only thing that made the equation fail was you. You ever want to try to debunk me again, you know where to fucking find me.

You see this huge disconnect between me irl and these angry posts? That's cause it's me and Red and you're not there. You get it yet? The Anger in me is solely devoted to you. Anger that you've done just about everything to deserve.

[tomyo]

NiGHTS

So I forced my friend who previously beat this game to play it for me instead. Thanks Tonio.

I always played as Helen first to which the fish was horrible to fight. Ironically to learn how different two characters bosses are. The game is also surprisingly short with very little story bits or maybe that's just from coming off of KH3 not too long ago.

The gameplay is rough, in game graphics are a weird mix and the music is god tier. The funniest thing is that gets to me about the graphics is Helen looks horrible in the in game engine but will looks sort of better? If he were supposed to look like a Japanese boy it'd be fine but it's definitely likely he was supposed to be white. However the CG modelers rendered him with defining Japanese features in his cheeks and mouth that I couldn't get over, I jokingly kept calling him Kohei and his dad Yusuke. I promise this is mostly out of adoration for how artists will reference what they are familiar with which even on a professional level results in a blonde haired blue eyed Japanese boy.

The character designs also distinctly bring me back to the era where everyone was trying to be Square Enix. Sega had already been doing particularly well rendered CG scenes but the over designing of Helen especially hits home how games like Sonic 06, Twilight Princess and so on probably took on these traits to catch up with the popularity of final fantasy and Kingdom Hearts to some extent. Helen's playthrough unlocks the artbook and I'm a little sad I'm missing some pieces as the art is fun to look at in all its crunchy glory.

I didn't grow up with the original Nights but the second game definitely came out when I was Will and Helens age which is funny to say since I always perceived myself older than characters like them. Now that I'm an adult I definitely look to the very gender Nights who's playful and essentially a disappointment to their parents in more honor. My first experience with this series was the lovingly rendered key art plastered on Nintendo Power which was possibly also my first one. I remember being enchanted by the reflection in night's eyes. All the more funny to see how old the graphics feel even for the Wii era in comparison to that cover art. But I loved every moment of Nights being almost a fun loving big sibling and annoyed at the idea they should play their role for wiseman.

That being said and it could be because we played Will second, there is like, an air of sexism with Will and Helen. I read up that Nights had some intent for the original kids to represent the masculine womanhood and the feminine manhood and while the clothing they wear or the interests they have represented in their worlds being so gendered isn't as much my issue, the narrative value is. Helen gets the short end being that she is made bad for doubting Nights like Will did but where Will overheard Nights was a nightmaren and was comforted by the owl, Helen hears this from Reala who also paints Nights as on the nightmaren side. It felt a little off equating these two experiences as the same. Nights also only fights Reala in Will's dreams. And while they gave a recent reason for Helen struggling in Will's more straight forward dungeon, there was an ick that Helen was always the one to fall in gameplay to be saved by Will. Like I said I was the one actually playing either so my experience in that is a little limited but Tonio did point out that Will did things on his own in Bellbridge that Helen needed Will's help for. It seems to suggest Helen can't stand on her own and that just sucks.

Considering the in spiritual successor, Balan Wonder world, gave it's female lead no active factor like previous protags (a sport or physical hobby) in a game about theatrical performance, it seems to be a worsening issue. A full tangent on that but if you give the male lead the role of a dancer then why not make the girl a singer???? The other half of theatrical performance????? So weird.

[manicformunson]

just- eddie with a badass, metal reader? and he’s too nervous to talk to her, hes almost intimidated, but then she goes up to him and confronts him abt his stares??? i’m done for.

do you wanna touch me

pairing eddie munson x fem!reader

summary reader is the girl of eddie's dreams and he can't help but stare at her any and every chance he got. he never expected her to call him out in front of his friends

note i am a firm believer in eddie being a total perv lol also abrupt ending sorry i like to tease :p

Eddie was a creep, he knew it. He literally could not help but drool over the girl in his math class, Y/N was like his hottest wet dream. She was always sporting shirts from his favorite bands, her hair always dyed unnatural colors and sometimes if he was lucky she wore a skirt, showing off a huge dnd dragon tattoo on her thigh. When that happened Eddie always had to pick his jaw up off the floor and excuse himself to the bathroom.

Eddie found himself more often than not rubbing one out at the thought of her plush thighs around his neck and his face buried in her pussy, or her tits squished up against his cock with her tonuge gingerly licking the tip -- the latter being his favorite.

One time he had to run to the bathroom to jerk off after math class when she wore one of those devilish skirts and moved her legs, causing Eddie to catch a glimpse of her panties. It was not his proudest moment.

Even Gareth had mentioned that Eddie was obsessed and that if he had the balls he should just go up and talk to her, but as funny as it was to everyone else, Eddie was intimidated. He had never met a girl who liked heavy metal and had tattoos of DND dragons, plus she was drop dead gorgeous.

Thank god for the weekend though. It was the only time he got a break from Y/N and her unknowing curse on him.

He had no intention of swimming, just soaking up the sun with a cigarette and maybe checking out the mom's in bikinis until he saw Y/N across the pool. He felt as if the breath had been knocked out of him. "Jesus Christ." He muttered when he was able to breathe again.

Eddie had picked up Gareth, Jeff and Dustin for a day at the pool -- solely Dustin's idea but Eddie would later kiss his feet for it. When they got there they had picked out spots near the gate and Eddie laid out on the chair and pulled out a cigarette, promising to look after they're stuff.

He had thought about asking her to join Hellfire since she'd probably enjoy it but the fear of rejection was too much for him. That and it'd be pretty hard to concentrate on a campaign when Y/N's pretty eyes were on him.

She was wearing a simple black bikini but goddamn, Eddie could see that she had a couple more tattoos -- one on her right breast of a bat with no head, some phrase on her hip bone, and when she turned her back towards him Eddie could see she had little wings right above the waist line of her bottoms.

Jeff and Gareth noticed him drooling over her and decided to follow Dustin to the pool, leaving Eddie a mumbling mess. All he could think about is her tramp stamp and how it contrasted against her wet skin, god Eddie had to fight popping a semi right then and there.

"There a reason your staring at me Munson?" Y/N said through a taunting smile, swaying her hips until she was standing over him. Eddie only held his hands up in defense, "I just, I uh. I mean-" Y/N crossed her arms, making Eddie very aware of how her boobs squished against her arms.

"I just wanted, wanted to-" Eddie couldn't think -- she was so much hotter than Eddie had thought. "Wanted to?" Y/N cocked her eyebrow at him, her fingers tapping against her elbows. "Your tattoos! You got, you got nice tattoos."

She laughed at him and Eddie couldn't help but smile at it, even if she was laughing at him. Y/N decided to sit down in the chair beside him and lean in a little, unknowingly giving him access to see the forbidden valleys of her breasts.

"You're practically drooling, and you're trying to tell me it's because of my tattoos?"

Eddie didn't respond, his brain only focused on the tattoo on her tits which made her grab his chin, forcing him to look at her and continue to mumble out nonsense.

Y/N knew that he had a crush on her, it was a bit pathetic but damn did she think it was cute. She couldn't help but tease.

She leaned closer to him, enough that her perfume clogged his senses, and pressed her lips to his ear, "You know, I got a few more tats underneath my swimsuit if you ever wanna see them."

She licked the shell of his ear causing him to visibly shutter and moan. Eddie grabbed her arm, "I, I got a van." Y/N giggled down at his desperate state. "Hm. I was thinking maybe back at my place later. So I could show you all of my pretty tattoos, and you could take the time to appreciate them."

Her hand was now rubbing up and down his arm giving him goosebumps and his head was so foggy with her presents that Eddie couldn't register what she was insinuating, he just nodded.

When her soft lips pressed against his cheek is when he felt his dick jump at the sudden feeling, "See you then pretty boy." And she was gone, leaving Eddie dazed and with a semi.

Little did he know he wasn't being very secretive about his staring, catching her attention and jumping when she starting storming over to him. Oh shit, he thought before trying to come up with an excuse.

[serenityseventeen]

Seventeen Performance Unit: when they want a baby and give you hints + their unintentional hints

세븐틴 댄스 팀: 호시, 준, 디에잇, 디노

HHU | VU | PU

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

Hoshi:

― the hints he would give: giving children a lot of attention, talking about how cute your children with him would be, mumbling that he wants a child sometimes

In my eyes, Soonyoung also has a good relationship with kids like Seungkwan. His bright and friendly energy is enough for kids to like him. When he wants a child, Soonyoung would give children (whether it's the members' or your siblings/nephews/nieces, or even strangers) a lot of attention, showing his fatherly side to you, trying to get you to notice that he's ready. Soonyoung would be the type to be daydreaming about having a child of his own under a tree or in the middle of playing with kids. Whenever he finishes playing with kids, you would catch him mumbling something like, “I wish I had a child too.”

Jun:

― the hints he would give: being more attentive to children, talking about children with you, asking if you would like to become a parent/what you thought of your guys' future

I think Jun can be good with children or be extremely strange in a child's eyes. When he wants you to notice that he wants a child, he'd try to show you what he learned and that he can take care of a child, whether that means he is playing with them or helping them clean and scolding them for the better. Jun would also talk about parenting with you, asking if you'd also want to become a parent and build a family with him. He would ask if you had children in your plan; then he would proceed to tell you that he wants children to be a part of his future.

The8:

― hints he would give: becomes very playful around children and genuinely enjoys children company, checks out baby fashion items online/in-stores, would randomly mention kids

Oh oh oh! Minghao would definitely become more attentive to kids when he wants one! He's always wanting to know more and build his knowledge on children and parenting. He would devote himself to it. Minghao would, of course, being the fashionista that he is, also think about how to dress his child. He would be browsing all over the internet, looking at kid clothes, and thinking about which ones to buy when he has a kid. It's not only online, even when you two are shopping, you'd see him consider it so seriously. Minghao would also mention kids just because he wants to, half hoping that you'd realize that he wants kids.

Dino:

― hints he would give: talks about having a ‘little dino’, openly wonders what his child would like, asks you to help him become a dad/prepare for it

Honestly, I think Chan would be such a good dad. The thought of being a dad excites him so greatly! Once he's sure he wants a child, he would either be straightforward or directly mention/hint that he wants a child. While dancing or just simply walking, he'd say things like “oh how nice it'd be to have a baby chan dancing with me” or “oh how beautiful it would be to have a baby you walking with me” and all that stuff. If you still don't get the hint then he would ask you about kids and help him prepare to be a dad. When you ask why he'd tell you that he dreams for a kid of his own!

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

request:

© serenityseventeen

time finished: 7/29/21 - sometime near noon

a/n: dino and jun Instagram when!? We got hoshi today!! + I'm also, just now, wondering what/when dino's next danceology would be. I really loved “hollywood's bleeding”, “thin white lies”, and “sucker” but my favorite is still “undecided” (why does it sound funny lol) :3

[tapesfrom1980]

story time | georgenotfound x f!reader

pronouns: she/her

desc: a dono asks george and y/n

how they met

A/N: the challenge described is from the show impractical jokers !!

“how did you guys meet?” the robotic voice spoke, catching everyone’s attention- y/n lit up at the question.

"it's a funny story actually." y/n laughs at george's face as he remembered the first time they met.

"please don't say it, it makes me sound like such a bad guy." he put his face in his hands as his body shook with laughter.

"oh please do say it y/n, i'm very interested in hearing this." quackity spoke from the discord call, a smile laced in his voice.

"alright, alright."

"i get to say some bits though." george waved a finger in y/n's face, to which she smacked away.

"it all started when i went to shop for my groceries..."

"we're gonna get kicked out if we get caught, you do know that?" george raised a brow.

"come on gogy, have a little fun." dream grinned as he pulled the shopping cart near the vegetable section, which was very much filled with people.

"fine, but if we get kicked out you owe me $30."

"yeah, yeah."

dream had seen this in one of his favorite shows, impractical jokers, and it seemed like a lot of fun and not too harmful so why not?

what dream didn't realize is that that was a TV show and the guys were allowed to do the challenge. this was real life.

"the girl by the tomatoes." dream nodded his head towards a y/h/c girl who was picking out tomatoes and putting them in a bag. she looked like she was in her early 20's and both dream and george thought she was very pretty.

"what do i grab?"

"the toilet paper." dream's eyes glistened with mischief as george groaned.

"you owe me 10 subs for this."

george walked over to the girls shopping cart, trying his best to look- not suspicious? (???) her back was still turned to him but he was still careful to not make any noise.

he reached out his hand and started for the toilet paper. the girl turned around all of the sudden and george felt his heart stop.

panicking, george threw the packet of toilet paper at her face and started running.

"hey!"

"oh my god that was worse than i thought it'd be." quackity started laughing loudly and clapping his hands. "what the fuck is wrong with you george?"

"i panicked okay! i didn't think she'd catch me." george huffed.

"how do you think i felt? some random guy comes up to me just to steal my toilet paper and fucking chuck at it at me." y/n looked at george in disbelief. quackity started laughing again and soon both george and y/n joined in.

"well it all worked out in the end didn't it?"

"how so?"

"if dream hadn't been such an idiot i would've never met you." george grinned cheekily.

“please don’t start making out guy- oh okay.”

[doodlebloo]

Allium duo headcanons?

C!Alliumduo my beloveds >:D

(all /rp obvi!)

A: Realistic

B: Funny

Idk how realistic this is but the council tells Ranboo about all the nice things they overhear Tommy saying about him. They try and tell Ranboo every time they catch something like that about him, but it means more hearing it from Tommy. Sometimes Ranboo will get a letter in his mailbox telling him Tommy said something weird and cryptic but still sort of nice, about "Ranboo's got a stupid looking face but that doesn't mean he isn't a kind man," and he'll leave a chest with diamonds and food outside Tommy's home, "DO NOT STEAL", and take comfort in the fact that Tommy has received his gift without feeling "pitied" :)

Ranboo fucks with Tommy just as much as Tommy fucks with him. Ranboo will say shit he would NEVER say normally when they're alone, something close to a swear or an intentionally gross joke or even just something flat out rude about another person, but if Tommy mentions it to Tubbo Ranboo will always deny it. (Most of the time Tubbo actually does believe that Ranboo said the thing but he plays along anyway.)

C: Sad

I very much doubt Ranboo remembers everything - or even most things - about exile, and I think this causes a bit of a rift between them. I feel like Tommy would be so thankful to have someone who was there, who can agree with him that it was awful and real and that Tommy is right to be upset and isn't just getting events all twisted around in his head again, and Ranboo only remembering little bits and pieces would probably kill that dream... In the long run it would probably be healthier for Tommy to come to terms with things on his own, but I can see Tommy avoiding Ranboo for a few days once Ranboo admits that he doesnt remember many specifics :(

D: Unrealistic

Unrealistic because we don't know how EnderWalking works but the concept of Tommy and Ranboo both being able to bond over their similar relationship to Dream... Of not being able to fully remember what he'd had them do or done to them, of not being able to separate the "nice" version of him with the version that hurt them, hurt Tubbo... I dunno, I just think it'd be cool to have a scene after Dream is dead where Ranboo's memory book is left out and Tommy walks past and sees a familiar ":)" and is just like... Oh, and from then on he's able to have someone who sort of gets it, if only a little bit.

[princessnotfound]

'Til You Forget Your Engravings // thread with @drcxmlcss

Ideally, Fundy would be here to guide Dream through the process of getting and accessing George's phone, but they'll have to make do without him for now. They aren't so selfish as to call for him now. While George doesn't exactly get along with Dream, the two of them have danced the tango of rivalry for long enough to understand the synchronicity between them. Maybe their harmonies clash at times, but they can coordinate, with time.

"Literally?--" they repeat in question, cut off by the collision of the door as it is swung open. Dream stands in the doorway, but before they can bring themself to say anything, they find their lips curling upwards, fondly, at the sight of his hands thrown over his eyes. Literally. Try as they might to suppress their amusement, George cannot entirely silence their snickering. It's almost endearing, in a way. They had every reason to believe that Dream would not care to respect their wishes of not being seen, but going to these lengths just to ensure that he doesn't catch a glimpse of them? If he wasn't such a prick, the gesture might even be sweet.

"Oh my goodness," George grins, tilting their head. "You're such an idiot. I mean- I appreciate it, but you're such an idiot." Guiding him is a little bit more complex, though. Studying the distance between the doorway and the short path it'd take Dream to get to their phone. Furrowing their brows, George exhales and frowns a little, "well, I'll try my best, but since you aren't walking on an eight-by-eight checkered board, it's a little bit more complicated... but yeah. It'll probably be fine."

Before he can give any instructions, Dream is already moving. Striding forwards with a confidence that is all too tempting to snuff out. It'd be funny, if they guided him to walk into a wall head-first, but something keeps them from being so cruel. Wordlessly, they watch as Dream gets closer to the side of their bed. Hesitation is only brief. But it is long enough for George to realise that they did not open their mouth when Dream was mere centimetres away from the bedframe. Something is going to go wrong here, not at all intentionally.

For a moment, they say nothing, before grasping how untrustworthy their silence must be. George nods even if Dream isn't looking, "yes, of course I will. But- let's just make this easier. You're by the bedframe right now."

It's a stupid idea, but they reach out for him. Fingers stiff against splints. They can lean just far enough to brush against Dream's knuckles, though they cannot curl their fingers around his wrist. Even so, they do what they can to guide his hand to the edge of the bed, wincing. "Just feel around the edge. The table is on the other side of the bed."

’Til You Forget Your Engravings // thread with @princessnotfound

Ah. Of course the phone is inconveniently placed. Dream bites his lip, dissatisfied with the development. Even if he’s careful, there’s a chance he’ll catch a glimpse of George by accident. He doesn’t— That’s not. Hm. George seemed uncomfortable by the notion. Beyond that, Dream promised he wouldn’t stare. That takes precedent. Genuine assurances should be upheld. So…

“Alright.” A pause, contemplative. “Alright,” he continues, “I have an idea.” And then, he opens the door. He doesn’t step through it, though. No. He waits in the hall, letting it swing open enough to allow entry. “This is, uh… It’s going to seem ridiculous. But, I’m covering my eyes. Literally.”

True enough, he presses his palms over his gaze. Vision obscures instantly, but he has enough sense of direction to keep track of where the doorway was. Smoothly, he enters, chin lowered and hands still firmly covering emerald hues.

Maybe the silliness isn’t a bad thing, now that he thinks about it. He probably looks absurd. With any luck, George will get a laugh out of it. If nothing else, an eye-roll.

“Just— Think of it like chess, except this time, you’re directing a living breathing person who would prefer not to stub his toe,” he jokes. “Warn me when I’m getting too close to something, yeah?”

It’s anxiety-inducing. More so than he realized. Bit by bit, nerves ignite, dizzying him without the stability of sight. The plan, however, is simple. Over and over, he reminds himself of it. He’ll move to the bedside table, turn to face the wall, and get to work. George can tell him when it’s safe to look. They’ll be his eyes, ensuring he doesn’t mistakenly peek, and keeping him from smacking into furniture. Hopefully, anyway.

Dream makes it far before he needs guidance. He teeters close by, confident strides turning slow the further along he gets. He’s less sure of himself. A strange thought for him. Being unsure.

At one point, he extends a foot to poke at something in front of him — the bed’s frame. Not knowing what it is, though, brings another bout of confusion. “You’ll tell me when I reach the table and can look, right?” he asks, disoriented. Perhaps this was a terrible idea after all, trusting an enemy. Someone who couldn’t care less about his well-being.

Why did he try, then? Why did he bother to go to such lengths? And why was he too stubborn to say ‘fuck it’ and give up now? Vulnerability is an awkward position to be in, but— It’ll be worth it. It’ll be worth it when he can pester George over chess again. When he can send the victory emotes he always does to their phone, mocking them for their mistakes. When he can, for all intents and purposes…

Until then, he’ll await instructions, ignoring the urge to see with all his might. Control can be postponed.

Probably.

Just this once.