#When the pining stops it's really hard for me to care anymore for some reason

[idk-who-you-are-man]

Hey guys, guess who's alive? You're right, it's me and my fic :D

As a bit of a heads-up, I do think the ending turned out a bit rushed because I really wanted to post it. I'm also a bit iffy on how I managed to portray romance, but I think I did better than I expected, which is a win in my book. Lastly, this fic does include some of my personal abo headcannons, and if one (1) person asks me about it I will make a lore post both for general abo and Gravity Falls headcannons.

No onto the actual stuff

Description: The universe must hate Stanley Pines, because why else would he be having his first heat in thirty years at the very appropriate age of fifty-seven?

Tags/warnings: Stancest, ABO, accidental self-harm, love confessions (sort of), may seem a bit dubcon in a way but it's really not

Stan doesn't usually consider himself lucky. With his penchant for bad decisions and ruining just about everything he got even remotely close to, the definition just didn't quite seem to fit. Often unfortunate, sometimes ill-fated, occasionally even jinxed, but seldom ever lucky.

But, well. Seldom isn't never, is it? Stan is lucky to have his car, his mind, his family. He also certainly couldn't complain about his lack of heats. He only ever had a few between the ages of eighteen and twenty-three, and while every single one of them was horrible in a different way, it was infinitely better than having more of them continuously over the already miserable decades.

At least, that's what he thought until about two hours ago since the multiverse just couldn't let Stanley Pines have this one good thing for himself. And yeah, in hindsight, his nonexistent heats were probably something he should have been more concerned about, but you don't look a gift horse in the mouth, right? Except he should have, because as it turns out, the lack of heats was only temporary, and as such probably caused by one of Stan's countless underlying health issues. Who woulda thought.

And really? Who would have thought that at the ripe age of fifty-seven, Stan would apparently be back to having heats? He's supposed to be finally enjoying himself, on his dream boat with his brother, who he was maybe theoretically a little bit in love with, but no! No, Stanley Pines can't have good things, so instead he just curls in on himself, desperate to ease the pain quickly spreading through his lower belly. Ford's blanket, conveniently hanging over the edge of the top bunk, smells so comfortably familiar that Stan has to bite his palm to stop himself from grabbing it. He was above nesting, dammit.

A metallic taste fills his mouth in a sudden burst. He unclenches his jaw, feeling blood trickle down his palm from where his fangs pierced the skin. Eugh. Blood is a bitch to clean, especially when it's dry, which is how it's going to be when Stan finally gets enough strength to care about something so trivial.

Ford would probably have a fit if he heard that last part. Stan was actually kind of glad that Ford wasn't here when he woke up despite the ache in his chest that screamed otherwise. At least he doesn't have to deal with the guilt-induced fussing, because, well. It's just that, isn't it? Just squeezing his hand through a particularly bad flashback, just holding him after a nightmare that left him shaking, just scenting his clothes when he mentioned feeling alone, just... Being a brother. Definitely not whatever Stan's messed up brain wants it to be. Just another reason for him to stay in bed and be miserable.

And then, because the multiverse is an asshole, the door leading down to their cabin opens with an almost insulted squeak.

"Stanley! I'm back! Sorry it took me so long. Who knew finding quality coffee would be this hard? Why would people like 'decaf', anyway? It's not coffee anymore, it's just..." His voice trails off, replaced by confused sniffing. Moments later, Ford steps into the room, hands full of coffee bags and expression puzzled. He looks around for a few seconds before his eyes settle on his brother. "Stanley?"

"Hey, Six." Stan grunts, words rough and scratchy in his throat. Ford's scent spikes in a way Stan doesn't quite understand. He hopes it's not anger, though, because the last thing he needs right now is dealing with an agitated alpha in a small space that only has one exit.

"What- What's going on?" Ford stammers, arms tightening defensively around the bags of coffee. Cute.

"Oh, c'mon, Ford. You're smart, you can figure it out."

"I- You- You're in heat?"

"Congrats, you won. Cheers to the genius."

"But- How? Are... Are you an omega?"

"Wow, you are on a roll today." Ford's face flushes at the comment, brows furrowing slightly in embarrassment.

"I... I don't understand. You're supposed to be a beta. When did... When did this happen?"

​"Six, I love ya and all-" Ford chocked on a gasp that sounded almost offended, "-but do you really think that it's a good time to talk about this?"

"I think it's a great time to talk about this! You're an omega, and you've never told me! What the hell, Stanley?!" Coffee bags hit the floor with a loud rustle as Ford's hands fly up to tug at his hair. He's growling now, a low rumble that means that yeah, Stanley, you made him angry, good job.

"I just didn't think it was that relevant!" With great effort, Stan pushes himself into a sitting position. The blood from his palm smudges onto the white sheets, but neither man seems to notice.

"How would it not be relevant?!"

"I haven't had a heat in, like, thirty years! How was I supposed to know it would just- just come back like that?!" Stan's body aches relentlessly, head spinning from the scent of an angry alpha. He needs to leave, but he's so exhausted that he can barely sit. Old, familiar panic rises in his throat along with a quiet whine. Ford stumbles back like a man burned, eyes widening in some sort of realization.

"You haven't been having heats?" His scent mellows, anger replaced by something akin to pity. Stan almost liked anger better.

"I just said that."

"For the last thirty years?"

"Yep. Just said that too."

"Oh, would you stop that?!" Ford almost growls again, but catches himself with a deep, calming breath. Stan still tenses up despite himself. "Just- Can you elaborate on that a little?"

"Not much to elaborate on, really. Got my first heat at eighteen. Had a few more over the years. Then, when I was twenty-three, they just... Stopped. Didn't have one again until today."

"That's not- That's not good, Stanley," Ford stammers, face pale and voice shaky. Stepping over the coffee bags, he starts pacing the limited space of their cabin. At least he's not trying to rip his hair out anymore, so hey! An improvement!

"Not having heats was pretty nice, actually. Really wish I wasn't having one right now."

"No, Stan, do you know what that means?" Ford ceases his pacing just for a moment to look Stan in the eyes before resuming his movement. He looks a little too concerned for Stan's liking.

"Am I supposed to?"

"Yes! Yes, you are supposed to know, Stan! You know why? Because you should have gone to a doctor and taken enough care of yourself to find out that lack of heats is usually a sign of extreme physical distress!"

"This again? Leave it alone, wouldja!"

"I will not be leaving this alone, Stanley! You've been suffering for years, and you're still refusing to admit it! Refusing to let me help!"

"I don't need your help!"

"Yes, you do!"

"No, I don't!"

"Just let me fix it!" Ford suddenly stops in his tracks, breath catching on a quiet sob. Stan straightens up, heaving his leaden legs over the edge of the mattress. He almost manages to stand before Ford crosses the small room to plop down next to him, fingers digging into the stained sheets.

"Ford?"

"I'm sorry, Stanley, it's just... So many horrible things that happened to you are my fault, and I just-"

"Six, stop that. It's not true."

"I'm just worried, Lee. Do you really not know what your lack of heats means?" And then Ford looks at him, sad and sort of yearning, and it's all Stan can do not to bury his face in his brother's neck. Instead, he slumps forward to ease the ache in his belly and sighs.

"No, Ford, I don't. And I'd really appreciate it if you could skip the lecture for today because I don't know if I can handle it right now."

"I just- Stan, omega's body only stops having heats when it feels like it wouldn't be safe enough for them to have one. The fact that you haven't had one for thirty years is just..." Stan's breath hitches as Ford lets his head drop onto his shoulder, voice softening. "I'm so sorry that you had to live like that."

"I could say the same about the portal." Ford's arm wraps around his shoulders, glasses squishing into the skin of his neck.

"It wasn't your fault."

"You should listen to yourself, genius," Stan snickers, gently patting Ford's arm. Ford nuzzles closer, burying his nose the omega's scent gland. Stan flushes when a purr starts up in his throat, only for it to be drowned out by the rumble of a content alpha. "Ford?"

"Mm? Oh!" The noise stops abruptly, as Ford tears himself away, face twisted in an expression of humiliated horror. "I'm sorry, Stanley!"

"You should stop being sorry, you've done enough of that for today." Stan lets his head hit the pillows, tugging Ford along with him. He should probably be embarrassed, but he's exhausted and in pain, and Ford's feels so warm against him that he can't bring himself to care. "Just stay with me, Six."

"Are- are you sure?" Ford stutters, but his happy rumble returns in a way that suggests that he doesn't mind.

"Mhm."

"Oh. Okay."

"Mhm."

"I, uh... I have been in love with you, you know. Ever since we were children."

"Mhm."

"You're not listening to me, are you?"

"Mhm."

"Fair enough," Ford smiles at the purr rising through Stan's chest, lips meeting the scent gland on his neck in a soft kiss. Stan chirps happily and buries his nose in Ford's hair. Ford is back. Ford is here. Ford is with him.

Losing himself to the comforting scent, Stan lets himself drift. Somewhere in the back of his foggy mind, he thinks that he feels pretty lucky right now.​

[topherwrites]

𝘈 𝘍𝘖𝘙𝘌𝘚𝘛 𝘍𝘐𝘙𝘌

jack abbot x fem!reader — you have a shared understanding of each other, it's the worst sort of relation. warnings: mutual pining, angst, burn out, grief, terminal illness of parent, attending x resident, hr hates to see them coming. a/n: wrote this while sick and sleep deprived, so it's in third person for some reason. let me know if ya'll like this!

Jack has seen burnout, the way this job chips away at even the soundest of doctors. He’s used to tired eyes and cracked hands and sore backs. But this is different. It’s like watching a ghost move through the hospital.

She's crumbling under the weight of grief. She’s always clocked in; there’s no escape from it. No air to come up for. There’s just a void, deep and dark, that she pulls with her through every day.

And she doesn't sleep well anymore—or at all—terrified every time she closes her eyes that she won't be there when it—the horrible thing rapidly approaching—finally happens, that her mother will be alone. That she’ll have failed in the simplest of tasks.

She doesn’t feel human now, not really. She’s a candle burning at both ends—wick nearly gone. 

He sees it, the barely hidden exhaustion, the forced smiles, the vacant stare when she doesn't know anyone’s looking. But he is—always, watching her for a reason he can’t face, knows is wrong.

And so he’s there to witness her collapse, a full breakaway. They lose a patient—young. Stupid young. One of those ones who should’ve made it. Who would’ve made it, if the universe cared for things like fairness.

His eyes stay on her as he calls it, as she slowly stops compressions, discards her gloves silently, and slips from the room like if she’s quiet enough, she can just disappear. He knows that look. He follows her at a distance, checking in with Dana, the other residents, keeps his eye on her the entire time. A ticking time bomb. He sees the tremble in her hands, the measured way she’s taking in every breath. 

And then she bolts—not truly, but in her professional way, she does. Sets the chart in her hand down and goes straight for the stairwell.

Dana catches him watching her and tells him to go.

He pushes the door open, stands in the doorway as he watches her fold into herself on the cold, concrete stairway floor—knees pulled to her chest, shoulders shaking in that awful, silent way. The dam has broken. 

She sees him then, her breath hitching, and a sob, uncontrollable, leaves her throat—because now there’s a witness to her failure. She’s failing her patients and her mother and him. The door shuts behind him with a click, the sound of her breaking echoing around them. 

He moves, kneeling in front of her, as well as he can, every old part of him protesting all the while. He tries not to crowd, just be there. 

“Hey,” he says, voice firm, “Look at me.”

He knows what she needs, her Type-A constitution: someone to tell her what to do, give her permission to stop brute forcing her way through this.

She tries to swallow her emotions back down, regulate her breathing, get back to it. Her eyes raise from the ground, but she doesn't quite look at him. That's fine.

“You’re off.” She opens her mouth. “Don’t argue.”

“I can’t, I just,” her throat clogs, she imagines going home, to that house that shouldn't be as quiet as it is, just dead air and the sounds of machines. 

He sighs a long breath out of his nose, thumbing it as he offers something up to her. A piece of his own grief. 

Death, the great equalizer. 

He husks out, “If you stop for even a second, it’ll all go to shit, right?” 

He waits to see her eyes. 

He knows some of how she’s feeling, not the same, but close. She was there one day, gone the next. No in between, dead in everything but name. He imagines her version is worse. The long goodbye. The drawn-out cruelty of it.

His hand, large and calloused, cups her knee, thumb rubbing gently at the tendon there, grounding. She swallows down hard. Finally, her focus returns to him, and the look in his eye—understanding—draws her out of her spiral, if only for a moment.

“It won’t," he takes a breath, waits to see if she's really listening, “Not unless you don’t take a moment for yourself.”

She wants to believe him. But the thought of having to go back—to that house, to the hospice nurse, to her mother’s living death—makes her stomach churn. She feels ungrateful, selfish. 

Her mother’s dying, and her daughter’s trying to figure out a way not to go home. 

She finds she keeps having a particular thought, more and more these days, I want to go home. And yet she never seems to find herself there in the quiet of her childhood home. There’s no relief or sense of safety. Just quiet dread. I want to go home. And it’s the cool skin of her mother, paper thin. The occasional brittle sound that works its way out of her throat. 

She thinks, I want to go home. 

But there’s no home anymore. Just a ticking clock.

And she’s trying to let go of something that isn’t even gone yet. 

He keeps his eye on her. He’s sure that his words won’t sink in until later, the truth of them hard to swallow for people like them.

“My shift ends in an hour.” He leans back. Reaches into his pocket. His knuckles prod her closed fist, and something cold is placed into her grasp. Keys. He says, “Wait for me.”

She nods. 

What else is she going to do?

Then he leaves her in the stairwell. 

Eventually, she gathers herself together, eases back up onto her feet, and ambles her way out of the sliding doors. In a haze, she clicks the lock button and locates his car by the responding beep. It’s nice, smells like leather and pine—attending salary, she supposes.

She sinks into the passenger seat, numb; it’s the first time she’s sat still in weeks.

The car is quiet when he slides in beside her.

She doesn't open her eyes, just hears the soft click of the door, the sound of his bag hitting the backseat, the sigh he lets out like he’s been holding it in for hours.

He doesn’t start the engine right away. Just sits with her.

“You hungry?” he asks, like any of this is normal routine. Like this could be a date. 

Her tired mind pauses. Like she isn’t very obviously in the midst of a clinical breakdown.

So, she shrugs halfheartedly. Can’t quite remember the last time she ate, especially the last time she ate without her mom’s nurse forcing her to just sit and chew. She feels reduced to a child, unable to care for herself. 

His fingers tap against the steering wheel.

“Okay.” 

The engine turns over. She sits there with her head against the window, watches the city lights blur past in the dawn. He doesn’t talk, doesn't force conversation onto her. But she can feel his eye occasionally drift over; she can’t think about the beat of her heart when it does.

His place is clean in a lived-in way. Coffee cups in the sink. A stack of foreign medical journals on the kitchen counter. Throw slung over the back of the couch. 

She doesn’t say anything, just stands in the doorway. A tad uncertain and eyeing. 

He toes his shoes off onto a rack. Shrugs his jacket off and hangs it on a hook next to her.

He motions for her to turn around, helps her out of the stiff shell of her scrub top with gentle hands. Careful. Like she might break.

She shivers against the cool air of his apartment, sweat clinging to her skin and tank top. 

His hands purposefully don’t linger. He steps away, through the large sliding barn doors at the back, where she assumes his bedroom is. A moment later, he comes back with a sweatshirt and blankets in hand. 

He presents the sweatshirt to her silently. Their fingers brush as she takes it, slipping it on over her head. Worn cotton. Faded logo. It smells like detergent and him.

Already, she feels a little more alive.

“You can take the bed,” he offers, already walking toward the kitchen, giving her space. “I’ll be on the couch.”

It takes a moment. And then, “What?”

She pads quickly after him, floorboards creaking under her foot. 

He doesn’t answer right away—just opens the fridge, peers down, and makes a vague sound of confirmation—nothing particularly edible left.

“I can’t cook for shit, so…” 

She glances past him, can't help the comment, “And your fridge is sad.”

His eyes narrow and slowly, he straightens up, but there’s the giveaway, a little twitch of his lips. “I invite you in and you go in on my-”

“It’s, like, mostly condiments.” 

And beer, but she doesn’t mention that. She’s pretty sure Harrison, McKay's kid, would call it divorced dad core. He pulls two out, silently tips one toward her in offering. Why not, she figures, reaching out and taking the bottle from him. She cracks it open, takes a sip, and leans on the counter—the taste reminds her of college, probably the last time she can remember relaxing. 

Then, she sighs, returning to the topic, despite his attempt at a detour, “I’m not kicking you out of your bed.” Voice scratchy with fatigue, she adds lamely, “Don’t be stupid.”

He exhales through his nose, sentiment he doesn't know how to word staying firmly in his throat. 

Arms tucked into the sleeves of his sweatshirt, she watches him over the counter. 

There’s something buzzing in her chest. Inappropriately tender. 

“Not a big deal,” he says finally, then drinks, his eyes on her. Not in a waiting-for-her-to-fall-apart way. Just… on her. He’s watching her like she’s a person and not a patient, not a problem to be solved. 

She’s not quite sure what to do with it. At work, at home, she has to keep it together, pretend in equal measure that nothing is wrong, that she has it all together. So now, with the space to just breathe, she falters. She doesn't know how to be anymore. 

“You let strange, frazzled women crash your place often?” she says, trying for levity, settling into a stool across the island.

He seems to ignore her self-deprecation entirely. Doesn’t smile, doesn’t flinch. Not even a pity laugh thrown her way. The quiet that’s left sobers her. Again, he sees her. 

She shifts, realizing how near he is—how inconsequential the island is between them.

“No,” he swallows, looking down at the counter, then up at her, “just you.”

It lands with weight. She wonders what it means, if he even knows. 

She tries to take it casually. But as it rests in the quiet, she’s forced to swallow down her clashing confusion of feelings. 

She wants to say something, anything, to fill the void. Make a joke about him agreeing with her—she is frazzled. More so now. And there’s something dangerous crackling in the quiet. Instead, she sits there, eyes tracing the lines of his shoulders, the way his jaw tightens slightly when he notices her watching him. 

She’s so fucking tired, and her brain is a mess—fogged by grief, adrenaline, the echo of chest compressions, the tremor still in her hands. She could be imagining it all. Probably is.

Just you.

“You need sleep,” he says, firm. “Real sleep. Not just half-hour naps when your body gives out on you.” 

“Look that bad, huh?”

“Little worse for wear,” he starts, a familiar tilt to his mouth, “Still better than most on their best.”

Again, he throws her a fraction off-kilter. 

She takes it better this time. A quick study—as he’s told her before. She’s usually better at volleying, but today she’s an exposed nerve. In the ED, the banter feels harmless, a way to pass the time. Here, in the confines of his place, it feels charged, intentional. Dangerous. 

Jack sighs, more at himself than anything else, and pushes off the counter. Releases himself from looking at her. His fingers flex at his sides, a twitch like muscle memory, like he’s already imagined what it’d be like to touch her. Pull her close. Lay his palm against the back of her neck and give in to the worst of his urges, the ones that have built up in him since he very first saw her.

But he doesn’t.

He won’t.

Because she’s grief-struck and unraveling, and he knows this would be a sort of theft.

He wouldn't be able to take it back. And she rightfully may not forgive him. He might shatter this bit of comfort he’s been able to extend to her. Or perhaps worse, she’ll want him, this, now, but not when the fog dissipates, when a clearer head prevails. 

“I’ll order in,” he says as he turns from her, flicks open a drawer overflowing with takeout menus. Mindlessly, he rifles through them as he takes a breath. He feels her eyes on his back, that prickling awareness at the base of his neck.

She knocks her knuckles on the counter, “Kay. I'm forewarning you, I’m gonna snoop.”

His eyes meet hers over his shoulder, and he nods to the low shelves in the corner, “Records over there.”

He watches her turn, the corners of her lips lifting in response. She unwinds, that last little bit of tension leaving her as she falls back into a familiar rhythm. 

“You're such a hipster piece of shit.”

“No, just old,” he states dryly just to get a smile out of her. He’s rewarded with it, accompanied by a short exhale out of her nose. 

She wanders over to the corner, squatting down as her fingers run over his collection. Taking her time gently sorting through them, she occasionally pulls one from the shelf, eyes scanning the tracklist. He can’t help the interest that’s settled into him: Which ones are to her taste? Which are bands she’s never heard of?

He’s curious about her, always—the briefest glimpses of her leading to more questions.

“You,” she starts, declaring as she pushes to stand, “are a fleetwood mac stan.”

“Of course I am, I'm a self-respecting child of the seventies.”

Her eyes stay on him for a moment before she hums, approving.

It’s that bit of curiosity that’s going to do him in. 

He hasn’t told his therapist about her. Not exactly. Not in a way that counts. The predicament that’s not a predicament. Because he’s kept his head, kept things mostly professional. 

His voice rings in his head, saying what he knows the man would, placid to promote some amount of self-reflection: 'Are you sure that’s a good idea, Jack? '

No. He’s not.

But he’s already in it. Not much farther to fall from here.

She watches as Jack pulls out a diner menu, asks her, “You like pancakes?”

“I'm partial to them.”

They remind her of weekends and summer and her mom. Of giggles and the smell of burnt batter. So yes, she supposed she likes pancakes.

Jack pulls out his phone. Presses it between his ear and shoulder like it’s muscle memory. Always multitasking.

“You a chocolate chip or blueberry kind of gal?”

An hour later, they’re sitting side by side, quietly eating. Forks clink against ceramic. Her elbow brushes his every now and then. Neither moves away. 

He’s taken his leg off. She’s let her hair loose from its bun. Something about it feels telling. 

Too comfortable for what their relationship should be. 

Beer and pancakes. Two things that shouldn't mix.

“Thank you for,” she sighs, “you know.”

The air is still around them. 

He looks over at her, and his eyes are as soft as she’s ever seen them, kind and unguarded in a way that’s a punch to the gut. They quietly roam her face—pinning her. It sits between them—this vast unnamable thing. She wonders what he’s looking for in her face. Perhaps the same thing she’s looking for in his. 

When his gaze lands on her lips—momentary, maybe accidental—it zips down her spine, lands hotly in her stomach.

He doesn’t know how to formulate the devotion on his tongue, say, I’d do anything for you or I’m sorry or Maybe if circumstances were different.

So instead he says, “You’re not a machine. You can’t run on two hours of sleep and caffeine forever.”

She hums in return.

He knows she’ll show up to the next shift the same way—dark circles, thermos in hand, too much tension in her shoulders. Tonight, his words, will probably change very little in the grand scheme of things. Change is difficult at any scale. Especially for people like them. He’s learned that much.

But if she sleeps soundly, lets some of that tension in her shoulders release, even if only for a few hours, then maybe that’s enough.

The rest of their meal is finished over hushed conversation—him digging up the remnants of his past for a good story. A few close calls, some risky maneuvers, the periodic breaking of protocol all teased out to keep her eyes on him. But eventually, time runs out, she stifles a yawn into her fist and her lids grow heavy. 

Quietly, he takes her empty plate and slides it into the dishwasher, urges her up with a hand between her shoulder blades. A gentle push to bed. His grip slides down to her waist as she reaches up onto her toes and thanks him with a press of her lips to his cheek. 

And then she’s gone, the sound of her feet padding down the hallway. She doesn’t say goodnight.

She thinks, in another version of this night, he might have followed her.

But in this version—the only they have—he just stands in the kitchen, eyes on the hallway long after she’s disappeared. He rinses the cups. Wipes down the counter like it matters. Like it keeps him from thinking too hard.

He turns the record player on. Starts an album. Keeps the volume low.

Jack sinks into the couch like it’s an old friend—his hip cracks, his back protests. This isn’t his first stint sleeping in his living room. On certain nights—bad ones—his bed is too big, too empty, too quiet, too full of memory. He’ll grab a blanket and crash out here, maybe catch an hour or two of actual rest before his next shift.

Now, he stares at the ceiling as if it might offer him clarity, like it’s penance.

It doesn’t. It never does.

He remembers how she looked—backlit by his kitchen light, sipping beer like this was any normal Tuesday, like this morning wasn’t a death sentence for his already fragile grip on propriety. It’s not even the presence of her that wrecks him—it’s the ease of it. Like she belongs here. Like it’s natural. Like the universe didn’t put a giant red do not fucking cross this line between their lives and laugh every time he toed it.

She’s asleep in the other room.

And nothing happened.

Nothing will happen.

But still, there’s that buzz in his fingertips. He wanted something to happen. It burns behind his eyelids.

Somewhere, faint through the speakers still murmuring in the background—

Billy Joel starts to hum again.

She steals like a thief, but she's always a woman to me.

Jack sighs, closing his eyes. 

Sun starts to fill the room.

Oh, she takes care of herself; she can wait if she wants. She's ahead of her time.

A/N: Thank you for reading!

[2000sangel]

Hii! May I request some Tenna headcanons with a lightner reader who helped patch him up after the “Incident”? Maybe with a little pining? Gender neutral reader works just fine.

Thank you for your time!

HEY waves excitedly...I loved this request! I fear I might've misinterpreted it a bit though, so if you want a continuation or something my inbox is open for you to tell me, and specify if you wanted something else T_T !!

Still, I hope you enjoy regardless!

WARNING for Ch. 3 ending spoilers !!

⋆⁺₊❅。⋆⁺₊❅。⋆⁺₊❅。⋆⁺₊❅。⋆⁺₊❅。⋆⁺₊❅。⋆⁺₊❅。

Tenna x Lightner Reader - Patching him up Headcanons

✰ You understand the anger the others must be feeling towards the Knight, you really do. Though you can’t find it in yourself to run after them, at least not until you’ve made sure that Tenna is somehow okay. You won’t be left behind, you figure, so it’s only fair that he doesn’t either.

✰ By actual miracle, he’s still holding on when you find him, and although the thought of healing somebody in such a bad shape scares you you push your insecurities aside and run to his side instead, your hands glistening a soft shade of green before you’ve even grazed his body. 

✰ Thanks to the hard practice you’ve put into healing, since you feel bad about Ralsei always doing most of the work, the spell you cast is enough to keep him conscious and even responsive while you rack your brains trying to figure out where to reconnect or plug things, helping yourself do the first thing with a weaker form of the previous spell. 

✰ At some point, you’re surprised to hear Tenna speak: it’s hushed and he’s clearly still in pain, but you can make out his words, thanking you for not leaving him to die and telling you to take it slow as his whole body aches. You have other plans though, the confirmation that your magic isn’t strong enough to heal him properly pushing you to try ever harder; you sweat through your spells, your hands shaky and breath almost as laboured as Tenna’s, and though he feels bad you’re going through this for him…he doesn’t think anyone has ever cared for him in such a way. It makes his entire body warm up at the thought that you care this much.

✰ The sudden rise in temperature confuses you and, admittedly, scares you a bit; you ask if everything is okay and if you’re hurting him since he’s slightly overheating, and he can’t help but curse his body for doing that, and himself for not being able to stop it. 

✰ It’s slow, it’s a bit agonizing and filled with reassurance from you that it’s going to be fine…but after what feels like hours of fixing slashed cables and messing with buttons that he guides you through, he’s…okay. 

✰ He still feels a bit out of it, but it’s much better than before; you’ve managed to reattach his arms good enough that he can move them around even if with a bit of struggle, and anything else that was less serious and needed manutention has been taken care of. You need to recompose yourself a bit before doing anything else though, the strain you’ve gone through evident on your features. With a slight blush you lean against his long legs, which he’s almost brought to his chest from his sitting position, and let yourself slide downwards until your legs aren’t supporting your full weight anymore.

✰ For a while you both just sit there, both of your bodies hurting for different reasons, and you don’t notice it about each other but the close contact makes you both turn your heads away just slightly. 

✰ Thanks to the Fun Gang, Tenna gets healed to completion later on and he also gets to move to Castle Town, where Ralsei sincerely congratulates you for all the healing you were able to perform without any help or guidance. You’re weirdly proud of yourself, just like how everyone else is proud of you.

✰ As a ‘thank you’ for caring, Tenna decides that the right thing to do would be nothing else than confess the feelings he’s developed towards you; there’s no hiding it, after all, that if you’ve put so much effort into saving him, you must care at least as deeply as he cares for you.

✰ He’s nervous to even start a conversation the next time you visit him though, abandonment issues holding him back, but the way he tenderly holds your salving hands into his tells you everything you need to know, and you simply tell him to look your way before explaining that you love him, too, and he has no reason to be shy about his feelings…you would like nothing more than to hear him say what’s on his mind. You don’t plan on forgetting about him or leaving him anytime soon, if ever, you reassure him. 

[silkythewriter]

I had an idea for a few headcanons you could do if ya want—

Maybe Sir Pentious with a reader who is so obviously in love with him, and keeps pining over him while literally everyone else but Sir Pentious himself can tell they like him? Like he's just really oblivous until reader finally straight up tells him.

Sir Pentious with a clearly in love reader!(●’◡’●)❤︎︎

Warnings!: Non!

Fandoms!:Hazbin hotel!

Author’s note!: HI HI OMG I LOVE SIR PENTIOUS HES SO SILLY!!!! I REALLY HOPE YOU ENJOY THIS AS MUCH AS I DID

Summary!: reader who’s clearly in love with our favorite snake demon

❤️Written by silkythewriter Do not steal or repost on any other platform please! ❤️

☆✬✬✬✬✬✬✬✬✬✬✬✬✬✬✬✬✬✬✬✬✬✬✬✬✬☆

“Call me, you can call me

Boy, just call me (call me, call me)

While you stalling, I'm evolving

I'd give all me”

☆✬✬✬✬✬✬✬✬✬✬✬✬✬✬✬✬✬✬✬✬✬✬✬✬✬☆

!🐍✨Sir Pentious✨🐍!

First of all, just to get out of the way, THIS MAN IS OBLIVIOUS!!!!, Autism be damned my boy can pull without even telling!!!!!

No but in all seriousness he is oblivious to your obvious longing for him.

Everyone can see you giving him shy longing stares only for him to be ranting about his latest invention. Not only would he not be able to tell but he’d always think your just being nice!

Of course he’s crushing hard behind his bedroom door to his little eggs. Happily stating and going on rambles of how gorgeous you looked today. He’d state everything! From the new hair style you tried to the new piece of clothing you bought and wore. When I mean he notices everything I mean it, but for some reason he can’t pick up on your obvious love for him.

The way he could stare in your eye as you tell him he looks breathtaking and still think you mean it just to be nice is astonishing. OF COURSE HES BLUSHING AND KICKING HIS TAIL, but he can’t bring himself to think you like him anymore than just friends!

He’d go to his egg boys and sadly rant on how you’ll only see him as friend. And the egg boys all share one Brain cell so they can’t tell you like him aswell!, maybe they might accidentally spill, or almost spill the secret of him liking you but he quickly knocks them away before you can make sense of what their saying.

All the residents watch as you do your best to drop hints only for him to complete miss it. Even angel cringes as he watches him completely be oblivious to the obvious flirting, it’s take Charlie and Vaggie to stop him from pointing out the obvious.

Husk almost always gives Sir Pentious as gaze of just utter confusion and tiredness.

He’d gladly take flowers from you that you gifted him and take care of it for weeks on end without realizing the romantic gesture!

Alastor, as always finds it humorous, although he usually doesn’t indulge himself in romantic like things he’s find it hilarious. “Even with three eyes he still can’t see the obvious! Ha!”

Charlie tries to help to the best of her ability to help guid him the right direction but it’s just end up with him more confused. Vaggie just face slaps internally,

honestly the whole crew wasn’t having high hopes for him as dim as that is. , look! He ain’t bad looking, but not many people would prefer his clumsy self, so they were honestly hoping he’d figure it out before you possibly moved on.

Even when your upset at the obvious frustrating situation he’s still be confused while trying to do his best to comfort you.

“Well I think the man isss clearly as dumb as a rock!”

It took you starring dead in his eyes for him to question if you were alright. Before you stated it was him

The way he just stood staring at you in pure disbelief, before snapping out of it and embarrassed as his previous words. But after the said embarrassment he’s full with giddy, why of course you love him!, he’s the great sir pentious!

Yea his embarrassment would quickly turn into pride, considering he got someone as beautiful as you to fall for him.

Definition of a clumsy gentlemen, he’d open doors so fast it’d smack him in the face, or pull when it’s a push door and be confused why it’s not opening.(´ω｀💧)

He’s just a silly lil guy! (⸝⸝ᵕᴗᵕ⸝⸝)

I feel like the crew in the hotel would be relief to find he finally figured out.

At the end of the night he’s squealing like a high school girl as he rambles to his egg boys about you in a new light!.

He’s gift you small little trinkets or happily spend hours with you talking!

He’s as lovesick as your are! He’s just a bit dense when it comes to accepting the fact you love.

It’s like the roles switched! Now he’s daydreaming-ly staring at you happy to have you as his, and him a yours.

Like I’ve said before! He’s a total drama queen, he can’t help it!, deny him a kiss teasingly? He’s crumbling down to the ground and holding his chest as if he just had a heart attack! (¬_¬)

He’s not at all secretive of his love for you, even if he wants to, to keep his image “professional”, he just can’t help and dote on you!

overall he’s a big dote and softy even if he tries to hide it, loves you with his whole being! ( ˘ω˘ ) He can a be a bit over the top sometimes but you’ll come to accept it! And hey who wouldn’t want a silly snake demons who’s tripping over their tail for you. Yea you got him in and over his head but he wouldn’t have it any other way. The roles have truly reversed(≖ᴗ≖✿)

☆✬✬✬✬✬✬✬✬✬✬✬✬✬✬✬✬✬✬✬✬✬✬✬✬✬☆

I LOVE HIS SILLY LIL SELF SO MUCH MORE PEOPLE SHOULD WRITE FOR HIM :(. TYSM FOR THE REQUEST I LOVED IT SM!!!! PLEASE COME AGAIN!!

[lillaydee]

In Time Part 4

Rancher Joel Miller / Reader

You lost your dear Uncle. Your TV Star boyfriend dumped you. You needed a job. You got one at a ranch in Wyoming. Where you met Joel. A very grumpy man. Grumpy man has issues.

WARNINGS:

Grumpy Joel, Hurt Joel, Grieving Joel, Joel is Bad at Feelings (The Last of Us), Joel Needs a Hug (The Last of Us), Joel Has PTSD - Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder (The Last of Us), Mentions of Hostage Situation and Shooting, Alternate Universe - No Cordyceps Outbreak (The Last of Us), Mutual Pining, Fluff and Angst

SERIES MASTER LIST

Part 3

---

***Warning*** Description of a hostage situation and gun violence ahead

You were shocked, to say the least. You knew her mother and Sarah had passed in the same tragedy but to say she was the reason Sarah died?

“Ellie… may I ask why you think that?”

“I don’t think it, I know it,” she said, so matter of fact in mannerism you felt bad for her. Was she fed this idea, or did she really believe this?

“What do you mean?”

“My mom and I used to live further up the road from the ranch, she was a teacher at my school. Like Penny. Usually, Penny would take Sarah to school with her and back, but that day, Penny had to take a student to the hospital. But Sarah had a riding lesson that day, so my mom offered to drop her off on our way back.” She lifted the pop tart dejectedly at you, and broke a small piece off, staring at it. “We ran out of pop tarts. And I really wanted some. So we stopped at the store to get them.”

Her voice quivered slightly at this, but then she took a deep breath and continued. “When those men asked us all to sit together, there was this lady who had trouble sitting, she had a cast on her leg, and a crutch. So my mom helped her. The men yelled at this lady to hurry up and sit down and my mom told them she’s trying, please don’t scare everyone like that. And they just shot my mom and the lady. Just like that. I screamed for my mom, I wanted to get to her, but Sarah held me back. And one of the men turned his gun on me, and Sarah pushed me to the side. I fell. She got shot instead.”

Tears were falling off her cheeks, but her face was stoic. You were doing everything you could not to sob, not to lose it. This girl saw her mother and her friend gunned down in succession. You pulled her into a tight hug, more to comfort yourself than her, if you’re being honest. You were so close to losing it.

When you let go, she smiled at you through her tears. “He’s just sad, and he needed someone to be mad at. It’s not fair. Parents should never bury their children. And he had to, because his little girl tried to save me, because we were in a store full of armed fugitives because I wanted pop tarts, and because I wouldn’t stay still when she asked me to.” She wiped her face with her hands. “It was a lot worse when Tess and Penny first took me in, he’s much better now. It’ll be okay,” she said, looking very much resigned to the situation.

“Ellie, sweetie, it’s not your fault. Bad things happen, and we have no control over them. Please don’t carry this on your shoulders. You’re too young, you should enjoy your childhood. And he definitely shouldn’t be treating you like that.”

“I know, Doc,” she said, smiling. “I am aware, I am seeing a therapist. I have accepted it. But Joel is having a hard time, and I think part of me accepting what happened includes letting him vent. He won’t hurt me. Trust me. He’s a good guy. Still is. He takes care of me in his own way. He just couldn’t bring himself to see me the way he used to. Sarah was like a big sister to me. I followed her around like a puppy. I guess, seeing me around reminds him Sarah is no longer here. He’ll come around. I believe that. I have to.”

You felt yourself liking this girl more and more. How was she this mature? At her age you were still sulking when Benny refused to get you a real tube of lipstick, convinced that he didn’t love you anymore. And here she was, still a chirpy 14-year-old, despite everything she had seen and had to carry.

The pop tarts laid cold and floppy on your plates. You asked Ellie if she was still hungry. She nodded. You told her you have just the thing – a secret recipe. But only special people got to eat them. And it must be offered, never asked for. Capisce? She nodded heartily, her face lighting up.

You went to your small kitchen and took out a sourdough. You asked her to cut two very thick slices while you got your jar of secret ingredient and some berries from the fridge. You slathered the secret ingredient all over both sides of the sourdough slices, and toasted them on a pan, slathering some more while they were toasting. Once done, you left them to cool a bit, cutting the bigger berries into smaller pieces, before squirting some whipped cream on the toasts, topped them off with the berries and drizzled some of the secret ingredient on top. You took one, and gave her the other one, ‘clinked’ them together and took a bite.

Ellie’s eyes closed in a daze of sweetness, saltiness, sourness, and bitterness that all came from the same bite.

“OWHMAGHAWD…” she spluttered; her eyes still closed. “MMHMMM…. Uhuh... uhuh… yeah…” She didn’t manage to get a word out until the whole thing was gone. You reacted the same way the first time Benny made them for you. She only managed to speak after she had licked her fingers and plate clean. She took a deep breath. “What was in that jar? THAT was definitely worth the tears. Oh. My. God!”

“Hu’uh. It’s a secret. My Uncle Benny used to make them for me whenever I was sad.”

“Well, your Uncle Benny was a genius. That would certainly shoo sadness away. Fucking hell…”

“Hey, language!”

She rolled her eyes at you, before looking at you in contemplation.

“You said that thing must be offered, never asked for.” You nodded, raising one eyebrow at her while she finished her thoughts. “What would happen if one asked for one of those?”

“Then they will be banned from ever eating one again. Forever.”

“God your accent made that word sounds so cool! Fo Evah!”

You smacked her with the dish towel playfully. The two of you hung out for the rest of the day. You walked her back home, and by the time you got back, you were glad you could make her laugh, even if it cost you most of your jar of secret ingredient.

---

Something shifted in Joel when you acted the way you did to him saying those things to Ellie. Tess, Penny, Tommy, Maria, Bill, Frank, his parents, had all said something to him every time they saw him treat Ellie that way, and yet he never took heed. But when you put yourself between him and Ellie, as if you were afraid that he was going to physically hurt her, something that had never even crossed his mind, it gave him pause. Did you think he was capable of something like that? And then there’s the way you looked at him. You, this stranger who had known Ellie for less than two days, spent a couple of hours at the most with her, saw him as a threat, and looked at him with such disappointment at the way he spoke to her, despite him not raising his voice at her. He felt judged. You didn’t think of him as a good guy. The thought of it made him crumble inside.  

See, the thing was, everyone had always chastised him for acting that way to Ellie, but they knew him inside out, even Ellie. They knew he was just venting, that he had issues, that he was hurting. They knew he wouldn’t hurt her. They knew he was a good guy. They loved him anyway. But you? You didn’t know him from Adam. All you saw was a jerk who was endlessly rude to you, and a bully who targeted a 14-year-old orphan. You definitely didn’t love him.

Did he want you to love him? He shouldn’t care, right?

But he did.

So, he headed for your cabin, determined to apologize, and make things better. But before he could even get on the deck, he heard Ellie’s voice from inside, telling you what happened that horrendous day. He’d heard this before, of course, but what he hadn’t heard, ever, was Ellie defending him to you. Telling you she understood why he was acting that way, that she didn’t think he was a bad guy.

That floored him.

Ellie, of all people, was defending him.

He had never felt so low.

He had tried to be less harsh with her, but it was like the attitude took over, like he was on cruise control. He often regretted saying the shit he said to her immediately but didn’t know how to shift to reverse. He told Tess this once.

“You don’t reverse, Joel. You shift back to neutral, and then start over.”

He heard you and Ellie laughing and joking around inside. He shouldn’t get in your way.

He’ll have to figure out how to start over.

---

About two weeks into your stay at the ranch, you picked up your ringing phone to the yelling of a very excited Ellie. Look outside Doc! Welcome to Wyoming!

It snowed. Everywhere you see, it was white. You felt like a child again. You had never seen this much snow in your life. Benny hated the cold. So your vacations had never involved snow. You were so excited you had to force yourself to calm down and get ready for work before you launched yourself outside like a loose cannon. Get ready for work. You could be excited for the snow later.

But by the time you got to your office, you had changed your mind about snow. You really were Benny’s niece. It had started snowing again by the time you finished getting ready and had breakfast, flurries of wet snow pelting you like tiny arrows as you walked the hundred yards to your office. You walked in with snow all over your clothes, your boots, your hair, your neck, and some even managed to get inside your clothes, despite you wrapping up. Your distaste for it must have shown, Frank laughing himself silly helping you brush everything off and immediately putting the kettle on for you. You had to buy one of those for the office since they only had a microwave, and microwaving water for a cup of tea was a sacrilege as far as you’re concerned.

“How many more days of snow do we have?”

“Erm, first day of snow. A few more months of this, honey.”

“Fuck.”

“It gets better. You get used to it.”

“Fuck that. I’m staying indoors until spring comes.”

Frank laughed, pouring the hot water into your thermal mug and placing your teabag in it for you. He had taken the liberty of learning just how you liked your tea, even making himself one sometimes, whenever he wanted to feel posh, he said. You had to order more tea since he had taken to stealing them from you to bring home. You hoped they would arrive soon. With how cold it was there you were running out fast.

You stayed indoors that day, doing paperwork and checking the inventory. Thank God no one called in for anything. You had no idea how you would fare on your first full snow day if you had to go outside. You were pretty cool headed and mellow, but once in a while, when your grumpy side showed up, you could rival The Miller Grumpus.

Who, by the way, you had managed to avoid for the most part. You had breakfast and dinner alone at home and had lunch with Maria and Tess or Frank and Bill. You didn’t ignore him, exactly, but didn’t seek him out, or engage with him – you didn’t need to. But there was one thing you noticed.

He hadn’t said anything rude to Ellie since that day at the stable.

Somehow, he had just… let her be. You were checking one of the horses one time, Ellie giving Shimmer some attention, when Joel rode back in with Callus. He didn’t say anything to Ellie, who had frozen in place when he rode in. He simply took his jacket off, and began untacking the stallion without saying anything, and left after. Ellie was so flabbergasted she had to ask you if you saw that – if that really happened. Even you were shocked. Bill just looked stumped. Frank asked you about it the next day as if it was a juicy piece of gossip. And maybe it was. This just in. Joel Miller wasn’t an asshole to Ellie.

Before you went home that day, you went to the woodshed, wanting to bring extra wood home in case it got really cold that night. Snow was still falling, although not as bad as it was that morning. You were too absorbed by your squelching boots and snow on your neck to notice it was Joel who was chopping firewood in the shed. Usually it was one of the younger lads doing that, or Bill. You placed your thermal mug on one of the wood stumps by the door, and walked in, grabbing the carrier off the hook to fill. When you finally realized it was him, it was because he stopped chopping when you came in.

It was like you saw him for the first time.

God, he looked good – his jacket was off, and he was covered in sweat, his flannel sticking to his rather well-built body. You wondered what that body would look like chopping wood. Would the muscles flex? As soon as that thought entered your mind, you were horrified. Oh God, did you really just think Mr. Grumpy looked good? You turned your back on him and started filling the carrier, feeling a bit flustered at the thought that he was just standing there staring at you as you did that. As you pulled the third or fourth piece of wood down from the stack, the wood shifted slightly and another piece fell, almost hitting you in the shin. You jumped back.

“Here, let me do that for you.”

He walked towards you to help, and wedged the heavy looking axe he was holding on a stump without looking at it, having done it a million times before, and a clanging sounded. You both turned around to look.

Your thermal mug was on the floor, an obvious cut on it, rendering it useless.

You picked it up, the lid smashed to bits, half of the mug was cloven, the axe firmly wedged on the stump where the mug once sat.

“Fuck, I’m sorry, I didn’t see it there.”

You knew he didn’t do it on purpose. But your eyes filled with tears without you meaning them to be. You had used this mug since you were in your teens. Benny bought it for you. You had your morning tea in this mug with him. It travelled around the world with you.

“Amelia, I am so sorry, I’ll replace it. I’m so sorry. Please believe me. I didn’t mean to. I didn’t know it was there.” He sounded sincere, apologetic, horrified.

You gave him a small smile and said it’s okay, Mr Miller. I know you didn’t mean it. You picked up the pieces of the lid, and quickly walked back to the cabin, not wanting him to see you cry, the wood left forgotten in its carrier.

You kept the pieces. You couldn’t bring yourself to get rid of them. And the next time you went to town, you couldn’t bring yourself to replace it.

When you left to go to work the next day, you saw that someone had filled your wood box, and stacked a bunch of wood next to it.

---

One whole week of snow and you sort of saw what Frank meant about getting used to them. You didn’t mind them as much, although you wouldn’t call yourself a fan either. With Christmas coming in a week, Tess had asked you if you were going anywhere for the holidays. You said no. Nowhere to go, really. She asked if you were sure. You could come with her if you’d prefer. Everyone was leaving, it seemed, save for a few local workers, none of whom lived on site. She and Penny were taking Ellie to Penny’s family, Tommy and Maria to Maria’s family, Bill and Frank to Frank’s sister’s, Mrs Adler to her son’s, so you would be alone. You didn’t mind that, though, you said. Some quiet time would be nice.

“With Joel,” she finished.

Apparently, his parents and friends were going on a cruise for the holidays. So he would be here. On the property. With you. Alone.

You chose not to respond. You asked if she could take you to town, instead, so you could do some shopping since they would all be gone for a week or so. You didn’t have a car, and you really didn’t feel like asking Mr Grumpy to drive you to town in case you needed something.

Maria and Penny joined you on that trip to town. You had a list with you, but somehow you felt off. Like you had forgotten something. What was it? What did you forget to buy? It felt important. Lifesaving, it felt like. But for the life of you, you couldn’t think what it was you needed.

You noticed that Penny was shopping for groceries too, so you asked her if she was bringing groceries back to her family’s. No, she said, laughing slightly. These are for Joel. You cocked your head slightly, wondering why she had to do his shopping for him. What, you asked, he couldn’t do that himself?

“He hasn’t stepped foot in this store since the hostage situation.”

Shit. You felt like an ass. Of course. His daughter died here. You wouldn’t be comfortable coming back either. Idiot.

When you got back to the ranch, there were a few packages waiting for you at the office. One was your much needed tea, one was something you ordered for Ellie, and one huge package for the chow hall. You made Tess promise not to open it. You were all gathering the next night to exchange gifts before everyone left, and since you didn’t know anyone well enough to get them individual gifts, you decided to get something you thought everyone would enjoy together.

That night, the ladies invited you to join them and Frank for a drink at the local watering hole, The Tipsy Bison. You were merrily laughing with everyone, enjoying the live band, feeling like you belonged. They introduced you around, it seemed everyone knew everyone there. You hadn’t been there long when Tommy, Joel and Bill came in. Tommy and Bill joined your table, while Joel went to the bar.

A lady from the group at the next table approached him and said a friendly hello. They knew each other, it seemed. He didn’t look like he didn’t like her company, his face less grumpy than usual. You turned your attention back to the table when Tommy asked you something, but you couldn’t help yourself from diverting your eyes back to them. The lady stood closer and closer to him, eventually touching shoulders with him, and caressing his arm and thigh.

Tess and Maria noticed. They used to be a thing, they told you. Not a couple, but they hooked up a few times when Sarah was still a toddler. She got impatient with his lack of interest with commitment and married someone else. She’s freshly divorced now, they said.

Why they thought you would want to know this, you have no idea. No idea at all.

The lady returned to her table not long after. From what you could gather, he was just not interested. Not even for a hook up, for old time’s sake. They went on gossiping about him, wondering if he had someone already. No way, the lady said. That man didn’t do relationships. His life was for Sarah, and now that she’s gone, she thought he’d be interested, but apparently not. You didn’t see her face, obviously, since you were not actually paying attention to their discussion, but she didn’t sound too happy about his refusal.  

Not that you were listening to their conversation. Or interested, for that matter.

You got up to get yourself another drink. The bartender, Andy, apparently, had heard of you. You and Frank had helped his father’s horse with an infected wound a couple of weeks back, one of your first house calls. You chatted with him a little, asking him how the horse was doing, how his father was, and his grandma, you believe? The feisty lady who kept trying to feed you more cake? He laughed, nodding along, telling you about her antics, always with the belief that everyone was underfed. You spent a few minutes chatting and laughing with him before taking your drink and paying, which he declined. You pouted at him playfully and made a show of putting the money in his tip jar. Joel was staring at him, his face like thunder. Okay, Mr Grumpy was back. When you got back to your table, the ladies at the next table were staring at you, eyeing you up and down. You ignored them, used to being stared at for being a new face around here. You sat back down, took a sip, and settled to enjoy the live band’s next set.

Everyone at the table was staring at you.

“What?”

They all shook their heads, looking at one another, a sly smile on their faces. You took a chip and ate it and began swaying in your seat as the band played a song, singing along every now and again.

You didn’t notice Joel’s eyes on you.

Nor the soft expression on his face when he saw you sway and sing along.

Joel didn’t notice his family’s eyes on him, watching you.

---

Part 5

[inlovewithjemily]

I donno if you're particularly versed with this shit but I do need to let me mind fly and get it off chest soo you asked for anons.

My bestfriend doesn't talk to me anymore like maybe on my birthday or Christmas but that's it. I am moving on the best I can but I still dream about them. It started when I moved got worse. I know it's hard after something so dramatic it can change everything. I essentially left them behind. I wanted to leave and I got to. I've not seen them in since really just once. I told them about how I felt never changed. So I stopped trying.

I have their name tattooed on me because they were the only reason I was alive during school.

After they told me they were bi I started re-evaluating my feelings for them. Do bestfriends really get their names tattooed on them? They are the only person I've cared about since forever. More strongly than anyone. No one beats it.

Truth is I donno love. It's so hard for me to understand which is which. This is why I constantly second guess myself aswell.

Due to the fact I haven't really spoken to them in like 10 years can I really love them because I don't know them anymore. It's like a black hole.

What is true?

Hi sweetie,

I'm gonna start by apologising that it's taken me most of the afternoon/evening to get a reply done for you but I wanted to take the time to think about the best way to answer this.

I can honestly say you're right, I'm not the most well versed person when it comes to love as a lot of my experiences of love haven't been the best but I do understand the pain of yearning, pining and having to leave behind people you have meant a lot to you for whatever reason.

Like you, I had to move away from the place I grew up in, unlike you however it wasn't my choice to leave I was 17 at the time and my parents were having issues so moved the family 300 miles away to fix their marriage. That was 17 years ago now and I haven't seen or spoken to some of those people since.

I should also point out that whilst each of my tattoos have a specific meaning to them I haven't gone as far as having any names tattooed, the closest I've come to that is my cousin's initials after he passed away, having said that it's not uncommon for people to get tattoos for their best friends, be it their name, something that reminds you of them or even matching ones so as long as the tattoo makes you smile and feel happy then I don't think it's a bad thing!

As for your feelings for them, that's potentially a little more complicated, perhaps you could try and reach out to them? Invite them out for coffee and a catch up so you can fill each other in on the last 10 years of your lives and see what happens?

Whatever the outcome, thank you for trusting me enough to let it out, I'm glad I've been a safe space for you to vent! Feel free to message me whenever if you want more advice or just a chat.

Remember, you're totally valid and very loved! Now go drink some water, take your meds, have a snack and depending on what time it is, get some sleep. 💜

[percontaion-points]

Girl on a Wire prologue & chapter 1

Click here for the rest of the series!

Click to see the rest of the snark & image descriptions

Prologue

And Dad had turned the unbelievably great offer down flat. Our tiny circus was already in serious danger of dying. Even the presence of the Amazing Emil, as my father was known onstage, wasn’t enough anymore. Traveling a circuit takes money, and these days it was obvious we weren’t making enough. Mom had wanted to join the Cirque, but didn’t challenge Dad when he refused to budge. My grandmother Nan, whose brilliant career as a trapeze flyer and expert tarot reader had become a quiet retirement of tutoring Sam and me, took his side. Sam hadn’t bothered to vote.

We are literally on page two, and I’m already bracing for this to be a sexist shit-fest.

“There’s no need to discuss it further,” my father had said, putting a reassuring hand on her shoulder. “We Amazing Maronis will never accept any job that includes working alongside the Flying Garcias.”

Is this going to be some goddamned circus-themed Romeo and Juliet? I’d also like to point out that their family-owned circus is going to go out of business because of something that happened a long time ago. Like gee buddy, don’t be shy. Tell us about where your priorities lie! Have fun finding a real job.

“How old are you?” Sixteen. “Do you really want to know?”

[Image description: A screencap from the Star Trek movie from 2009. Karl Urban (Scotty) addresses Chris Pine (Kirk) about Anton Yelchin (Chekov). It is captioned “Oh good. She’s sixteen.” The “she’s sixteen” part has been added to the image, and is in a visually different front from the other half of the caption. End description]

No reason to lie. “Running away to join the circus.”

Prologue summary: Meet our latest MC, Jules (Julie? IDK). She’s literally from a family of circus performers. However, they’re facing a lot of financial hardships, and are looking to close down soon if something doesn’t change. A while ago, they were approached by the titular Cirque American and asked to join. Her father flat-out refused, citing bad blood between their family and the Garcias. Jules has no idea what that feud is even about, since nobody will talk about it. However, with her parents facing down a future of factory work and secretary work, Jules is determined to set off and join up, regardless of what her parents want. She leaves when her parents go off to get supplies, and catches a ride with a random lady in a pick-up truck.

Chapter 1

Nan alternated between giving me meaningful stares and the cold shoulder. She was angry that I’d forced my father’s hand with the runaway stunt. And I had—that was the whole point. When I’d called him from the Flying J truck stop and explained that we had to take this chance or the family would split apart, to my eternal surprise Dad hadn’t put up much of a fight. He must have understood that we were doomed to extinction if we didn’t make a move.

I don’t understand what the point of any of that was. Like you can be angry about needing to do it, but you still gotta do it!

Many people assume all big circuses travel by train, but only the Greatest Show on Earth rides the rails these days.

I’ll take “things that have aged like milk” for 500 please!

“Julieta, you brought us here, but you need to be careful. Between the Garcias and your grandmother … there are old hurts.”

Again, how the hell is she supposed to know about any of those hurts when they won’t tell her what they are? Honestly, Julieta should have simply run off on her own, and left her family to make their bad decisions. Like you want to be butthurt about the Garcias? You can do so from your new factory job.

The idea of imitating Bird might be madness for now, but I still walked back home to change for the party grinning so hard that my cheeks ached.

Chapter 1 summary: In the end, Julieta didn’t run away to go off on her own, but rather, to force the hand of her family. They’re still upset over her, but like… They went along with it anyway, so they must have known deep-down that she was right, no matter what. When they get to where the circus is currently parked, she gets a chewing out from her father about all of the bad blood. However, Julieta is of the opinion that the past is the past. (With the underlying comment that it has nothing to do with her.) She goes inside one of the tents, where she watches a trapeze artist do a quadruple somersault after releasing the bars. However, she’s embarrassed to have witnessed who is likely one of the Garcias in his practice, so she’s quick to leave. She thinks that if this is what they’re up to, then she has to do better on her tightrope walk routine. And then she randomly starts thinking about her hero, a famous tight rope walker, Bird Millman.

Hire me to fix your book! Copyediting, proofreading, developmental editing, sarcastic editing, and more! 16 years of book-editing experience. Message me anywhere for pricing and further details.

[sunsents]

Content 2/2 - F.W (M)

Empty Chapter II

IT'S. OVER. Holy shit, this took way longer than I expected it to be. Yes, it’s 20k mf words and what abt it. Don’t look at me like that. I warned ya’ll 🙄. Now, I definitely made up some words while writing this. Like a shelved corridor, the heck is a shelved corridor?!?! Please tell me it makes sense…please for the sake of my sanity. The smut is kinda tame so I’ll whip out the chains on the next one.

CROSS POSTED TO WATTPAD HERE

Summary —> Years later you find yourself face to face with the person that caused your ruin - yet this time, somethings different.

Pairing: fredweasley x fem!reader

Word count: 20k... honestly I completely get it if ya'll wanna sit this one out

Warnings: *deep breath* a poor attempt at humor / gingers / pining idiots / normal idiots / excessive cursing / fred weasley in slacks / alcohol consuming / very little angst (its mostly just overthinking) to fluff / minor character death / smut / oral, (fem) / fingering / cum play / sexual mf intercourse mfs / protected sex (dont be silly protect your willy) / dirty talk / sappy stuff

Rating: 18+

DON’T REPOST MY WORK

tagged: @opalsheart @ronsbadidea @uselessmoonlight @boxofbadaddiction @lovenonymously @sergeantkilowog @rudypankowisdaddy, @nobutfredweasleytho some names didn’t come up when I tried, so what do we get from this? I can't properly use Tumblr <3

Five Years Later, 2003

"____, will you just calm down." Aleyna lets go of the book box full of bathroom supplies and they clink together, to which you wince because these are your stuff and you’re in a far too dangerous position to lose more money.

"How can I calm down?!" you exclaim dramatically, tossing your wand on the nylon wrapped couch. "It's all Stacey's fault."

Aleyna quirks a brow, "Whose Stacey?"

"That one chick from Magical Catastrophes who always has lipstick on her teeth."

"I don't think her name is Stacey though."

You send Aleyna a look that screams, stop being reasonable at a time like this. No, this was when you overpaid your TV cable to air The Twilight Zone and drank cheap wine while cursing out your boss who cared about your well being. Hermione had become The Minister of Magic, and of course you were proud of her. Though, this didn't mean she could let you have time off work whenever something insignificant happened.

"Probably not," you mutter, opening your fridge and coming face to face with the painful truth that it’s empty, and you’re hungry. Your hand unintentionally flies to graze over your scar as you survey your options, a small pack of ketchup and left over chips. "Suits her though, feels good to say 'Goddamnit Stacey' when something goes wrong in my life."

Stacey deserves it because Stacey doesn’t refill the staplers on purpose.

Aleyna snorts, though it doesn’t quite reach her eyes. "What did Stacey ever do to you?" Then she wheels across your new apartment to retrieve more boxes from outside.

You’re grateful for the support of all your friends, but the pitying looks they give you whenever someone mentions the words house and fire is enough to fuel into your secret want of setting their houses on fire. It was an accident, you were just trying to make the delicious recipe Molly had sent you, ignoring the small fact that you didn't know how to properly use an oven. The savings you lost from your bleeding bank account were not worth pasta with tomato sauce on it.

Though, your new apartment is big, bigger than your first because after making a name for yourself as an Auror money came easily. Wide walls for a projector TV, long tail shaped couch standing firm on varnished wood floorings, and two bedrooms that have their own - kind of unnecessary - bathrooms. Not to mention the giant kitchen with an island, only rich people had islands, where you could make plenty of Italian recipes and not worry about burning the house down because Aleyna fool-proofed it for you.

The flat was at the top floor of the new bar she just built, and she was kind enough to let you start renting the place. The residents of Diagon Alley had been fighting for this apartment for months, and you were proud to have snagged it before anyone could even offer.

Gripping the last two boxes, Aleyna pushes the front door with her foot and navigates herself backwards through the other dozen boxes you had just tossed on the floor. "These are the last two, are you sure you don't need anymore help?" she offers.

You shake your head, "I can just use magic, not in the mood for pursuing the muggle lifestyle right now."

Aleyna frowns, this reaches her eyes though. "That bad huh."

Simply nodding, you don’t bother getting into an in depth rant about how a simple fire didn't mean you had trauma, and that you didn't need to stop working for a few weeks. Not that being an Auror was hard, your work days have been quite uneventful if you didn't count a few "Revalutioners" sticking a muggle's head in a toilet.

"I know what will cheer you up," Aleyna chimes, already clad in her pea coat and sneakers. "Dinner, and it's on me."

You couldn't possibly say no to free dinner, also making food for yourself was probably not a good idea right now. Stay clear of ovens, you reminded yourself.

After getting snug in your coat and fluffing your hair, you fall on step next to Aleyna as the two of you chat.

The London cold is brutal, shivering whomever until their noses turn red and making their hands feel itchy when sudden warmth overtook. You’re used to it, as is anyone in Diagon Alley. People are crowding the stores, chatting loudly and waving their wands around at stores to reserve whatever crappy gifts they were going to buy for their family's.

You hate the holidays, refusing to go back to America and visit your own family. Your mother couldn't cook, nor could your father. Though, that didn't stop her from insisting every year and giving you, your father and the Burke's food poisoning.

After three years of sitting through awkward family dinners where everyone ignored the fact that you were almost Head of Aurors, and focused on Eva's collapsing career of Healer only to praise her, you had about enough and stopped attending. It had been two years since then, they didn't bother to write. Your dad occasionally sent you money in a horrible christmas card with an even more horrible pun written in red glittery letters that also sang Run Run Rudolph.

"Ugh, everyone's crowding the joke shop aga- oh." Aleyna pauses. "I'm sorry."

She knows about your past with Fred Weasley, considering whenever you rant about work it ends up with you cursing him and Eva out. He had such a blame-able face, just like Stacey from Magical Catastrophes.

You give Aleyna a look. "You act like I'm not a grown woman who can't get over something that happened eight years ago." you say, shaking off the small snow particles that begin to lightly fall. "You should be like this with, I don't know...my relationship with Theo! We broke up last year, why aren't you fragile with him, hmmm?"

Aleyna claps your back in a friendly manner all the same. "I know I know, but come on. This is childhood trauma we're talking about."

"Now that I think about it, seeing Eva's coochie was traumatic." you grin, and Aleyna's jaw gape even if she heard the story hundreds of times before. Not that Eva's...modesty was bad per say, just not a pleasant sight seeing as you guys grew up together.

Other than that fact, you hadn't talked, even seen Fred after the war ended. Sure, you occasionally stole glances at their very successful joke shop, but there was no point in dwelling and trying to fix an already withered away friendship.

You had fixed your relationship with Ron and Harry, having had no choice since the three of you worked together. "You were right ____, we were assholes. You don't need to apologize." they had told you, and that was that. The two families and well, you did weekly dinners and enduring the two men for Ginny and Hermione got easier as days passed, finally ending up in a good friendship like old times. It was casual between you, easy when no one mentioned how abruptly your friendship ended. No one dared to either.

Also, Harry was your boss and him remembering that you called him a drama queen wouldn’t do you any good in your career.

People bump at your sides as the two of you squeeze your way towards Sacree Fleur. The end of Voldemort brought a new, reformative era in the Wizarding World. Diagon Alley expanded, new buildings were built and culture grew. You were happy to see that Ollivendar's Wand shop renewed, along with other crumbling buildings that needed desperate attention.

Bandits lessened, and the utter arrogance some parents had by not sending their children to get magical education faded, partly because there was nothing to fear, and partly because more job opportunities arose, like said, money came easily.

Fleur Weasley, your good friend and someone who had done the impossible and won over a Weasley brother - though she was gorgeous and possibly the sweetest person you've ever met, so really they were perfect for each other - had decided on a whim to open a french restaurant. Bill couldn't say no to his wife, the rough man you had met years prior was softened with age and the struggle of raising children.

Good wine, deliciously soft steak that melts in your mouth and warm atmosphere that makes five o-clock feel like midnight. It’s by far your favorite restaurant and you'd much rather spend your Christmas Eve curled up next to a warm candlelit dinner on a terrace.

"Bonjour!" an obscenely attractive woman, Fleur greets the two of you when the revolving glass doors are pushed, and you break out in a wide smile seeing your friend at the door. "____, Aleyna! Come here, give me a big hug!"

"Fleur! What are you doing here?"

With dopey smiles, the three of you embrace.The door closes on it's own, and you shiver unintentionally, just now realizing how cold it is. Usually the big marble fireplace keeps Sacree Fleur warm, but even that seemed not enough and the restaurant is adorned with small muggle heaters, floating up above the ceiling and adding to the red light of the candles.

"You'll see. Came at a most amazing time too, silly girl always knowing when to show. Saw all the juicy drama when you were younger..." Fleur continues to joke lightheartedly, pulling away and leading the two of you through occupied tables as she faux scolds. People are content, it feels warm and almost soft. Conversation seems to flow easily and the unease you feel for the Holiday melts. Almost.

You blech whenever someone brings up the line ‘love is in the air’. It never made sense to you, because love was simply a fairy tale that would wither away with time. Also, how could love simply float? Of course, unless you count Amortentia fumes - which yours always smelled like sweat and crushed hopes. So frankly, you prefer expensive Dior perfume in the air rather than love.

Though now you find yourself doubting whatever you engraved in that well protected head of yours, love is truly in the air at Sacree Fleur. All kinds of love, mothers lovingly wiping food off their children's mouths, happy newlyweds clinking their wine glasses together with nothing but adoration in their eyes, friends enjoying sharing a simple dinner far more than should be done.

"My family, they're upstairs having dinner. The kids like the ice cream here, Mr Fortescue provides it well."

"Family? Ginny and Hermione are here?" you ask, lazily climbing the steps to the second floor to reveal the more, private part of the restaurant. Now, instead of wooden chairs with red cushions attached at the middle, there stand long booths with comfortable blankets and pillows with empty, eerily clean tables - except one.

The long table near the terrace is much livelier today, people sitting there whom you consider your own family. The three post luster that hangs low from the ceiling is turned on - it’s the first time you’ve seen the glamorous glass orbs in action. Its light ricochets off of several bright orange heads, simply calling it a lamp does no justice. The hue is yellow, low and it reminds you of the Christmas Eve fantasy you planned.

Said orange heads turn at the noise of delight you let out. "Oh Fleur! This is gorge- oof-"

"Auntie ____!"

A pool of orange locks squish into your stomach, snug in the soft fabric of your coat and you let out a chuckle. You can’t help it, even if you would never admit, he’s your favorite by a small number that-

"Well well, if it isn't Teddy Lupin."

The small boy chuckles, hair matching your black coat like a chameleon sticking itself on a flower and absorbing the color of the petals. You ruffle Ted's hair as the orange fades, he’s delighted to see you, and so are you yet your attention is quickly cut off by several disembodied voices thrown your way.

Bill Weasley is standing up, wine glass on one hand while grinning wide. “Look who my dear wife brought in!” his tidy yet visible scar stretches when his face brightens, you remembered again that day, just how much love you have around you.

“Hey everyone, hope we’re not interrupting.” you apologize, wincing but Bill quickly shakes his head and pushes his chair back.

You waddle your way towards the marble table, Teddy following suit with his face still smushed in your coat. He grips you tighter and you have to peel his small little limbs off your legs.

Aleyna scoffs, arms crossing together as she surveys Ted. “The blatant favoritism!”

Teddy rushes on his little legs to jump in Aleyna’s arms, and only then are you able to acknowledge the other - a little less important - people in the room.

“Happy holidays!” echoes around your head as several people embrace you all at once, and you have to simply stand and awkwardly loop your arm around whoever you can get a hold of.

Once the formalities are over, Ginny throws her arm around your shoulder. The red tresses of her dress hike up her leg from her slightly bigger stomach, and you can see the small broom tattoo on her thigh that she loves to display like a trophy. “You should’ve told us you were coming! We would have saved you a seat.”

A round of yes’s resonate around the room, and you take a quick moment to scan who’s afternoon dinner you’ve just interrupted. Hermione, hand resting on her very pregnant belly, is smiling warmly at you, and Ron quickly shoots up from his seat and wipes his mouth to catch up to his wife. Harry follows in his friend's wake, his hair has a white streak at the front and you furrow your brows.

“Age catching up with you Potter?” you grin, rubbing Ginny’s back fondly before she separates from you and greets Aleyna. “Or is it the pregnancy?”

Harry scoffs, pulling you in his embrace for a quick friendly second. “Always the charmer ____. I’ll have you know I’m handling it wonderfully, right Gin’?”

Ginny pauses, “Erm, yeah…”

Harry’s face feigns faux disbelief, and it quickly melts as you bombard the man with questions about how Ginny’s first trimester is going. You mentally take note of asking Ron about Hermione’s as well, your two best friends are fucking pregnant. It’s almost too happy, and slowly the anxiety creeping up from your spine wraps around your throat, ready to suffocate you whenever.

It was always like this, the past ready to make it’s deathly move, because nothing is perfect. Happiness doesn’t come this easily.

And you’re right, because not only a minute after the warm embraces of your friends comes the voice of the person you’ve been dreading to see.

“____?”

And then, you’re suffocating.

He’s a man. Of that you’re sure, because now his muscles stretch well over his broad shoulders, maroon satin shirt loose on his frame, tight around his biceps - properly sculpted of course - portraying defined collarbones.

His eyes are somewhat duller, though the same glimmer of loveable mischief he always had is evident. It will never go away, even after all these years, yet it’s tamer. That mischief caused him quite the trouble back in school, and now it seems he knows when to act, when to speak and when to stay silent.

His silhouette catches you off guard, his features are sharper, much sharper than how much Harry has matured. His biceps bulge obscenely when he rests his - also generously sized you might add - hand on the table, and the table suddenly doesn’t seem that long.

His forearms, on display with his sleeves rolled up, glistens under the soft lighting of the balcony. Your eyes fall on his bracelet adorned right wrist, one of which in particular catching your attention.

He’s still wearing the bracelet you gave him.

His face, always glowing, wears a large expression displaying his set of perfect teeth. He’s awestruck, you think.

You watch him push his large body out of the small chair, and wow chest, is your only thought. Then further down and...god damn thighs. Burly thighs - probably very comfortable too - squeezed in black tight fit jeans, however he managed that you don’t know but it was nice to imagine.

He’s leaned back, casual as he strolls towards you in two large steps, his long sculpted legs never disappointing.

Fred Weasley is genetically designed to ruin you and your insides with just one look, and you’re ashamed to have realized it all too late because when he speaks again you swear you saw stars.

“Wow - you,” he breaths, walking towards you with slow, unsure steps. “Grew!”

You raise a brow, Aleyna snorts. Grew? His steps should be unsure, because you want him to take them back, sit his fine fit ass back on that chair and pretend he never saw you.

Because this wasn’t your plan for tonight, seeing him wasn’t in your checklist. You woke up today, thinking nothing but coffee and a stressful moving day ahead. Not of the boy - the man you’ve been in love with since childhood, the man you blamed for your problems as an excuse to hide the heart squeezing pain of loneliness, the man you hadn’t seen in so many years you forgot what his voice sounded like.

You could have never guessed, and now you want to go back. Somehow rewind the clock to this morning when you were safe of your tucked away feelings trying to bulge, safe in your own little circle. All your efforts of leaving your house just a little early so you wouldn’t run into Fred seems stupid now. Your strategy ran smoothly for five years, it could’ve ran for more.

You would have continued avoiding him like your life depended on it, and his stupid joke shop, and the way he stupidly looked at you everytime he saw you. You’re reminded again, because no matter how older he looks he’s still Fred, and he still looks at you the same.

“I mean - beautifully! Shit I - fuck.” he groans, and George claps his brother on the back with a chuckle. Wherever he came from, because you were so entranced by Fred that you didn’t see George standing tall next to his family.

“____.” George stops before you, hands in his pockets. it happens too quickly that you’re forced out of your panicked state.

You raise a brow, and only then - Fred’s out of view with George’s figure towering over you - are you able to find your voice. “George.”

He pulls you in his tight embrace, “How come you never visited!” he scolds, chest stretching back to bring you with. “You’d think she’d bloody say hello once in a while! Maybe drop by our shop after 5 years, you quack!”

“George - can’t,” you heave and your legs wobble when he sets you on the ground again. You clear your throat, grinning widely at your...friend?

It would be fair to call him an acquaintance, right? You don’t know where you stand with the twins but you have love for them. This is clear from the way you can’t stop smiling like a sappy idiot - or perhaps it’s because of how contagious George’s smile is. You thought they hated you, but the youngest looks anything but displeased. He gives you a squeeze again before throwing an arm around your shoulder.

“I thought - I dunno. I thought you guys didn’t wanna see me.”

George scoffs, “Because you told us off that one time in seventh year?” he laughs, arms folding and displaying a set of bulging biceps much like Fred’s. “Yeah mate, you’re not that intimi-“

“George Weasley, finish that sentence I dare you!”

His eyes grow wide. “Sorry Ma’am.”

Someone clears their throat.

It’s Frederick Weasley, probably here to beat you to death.

“Hey Fred.” you greet, mouth dry. Get a grip, you scold yourself.

Fred opens his arms, “Well well,” he laughs, pulling you into a hug with a polite smile. His cheeks tint red when you shuffle closer, you would have missed this but you’re a creep, and you can’t stop staring at the beautiful man before you. He displays his beautifully indented smile lines, as if he was saying look at me! I’m perfect and sexy, I also broke your heart that one time, too bad I had no idea!

And it’s true, Fred never knew about your feelings. You kept them well hidden and they ate away at your organs from the inside, there was no reason to blame him. The realization is probably what compels you to accept him with open arms and wrap them around his neck.

You feel him shiver, dismissing it quickly because of the cold.

He smells good. Way too good that you melt in his arms and let him engulf you in his dangerous warmth. Manly, musky cologne, mixing with hints of cigar smoke that lingers on only certain areas of his shirt. You recognize the scotch in his breath when he whispers how much he had missed you, and his nape still has that cinnamon deliciousness he would parade whenever he came out of the shower, you fought the urge to shiver yourself, and it’s not because of the cold either.

It’s dizzying, and before you can start a detailed essay about how good his muscles feel, firm and digging into all the right places, he pulls away.

The past hits you like a ton of fucking bricks and crumbles down the firm foundations of the walls you have been building for eight years. You feel guilty, have you learned nothing? The loud pounding of your heart is a warning, yelling at you to stop getting swept away. Yet you can’t control it, just like how you can never control your feelings.

“I missed you guys too.” you breath shakily, you have to make sure to keep your distance. For your own good, you tell yourself.

Teddy pulls away your attention, and you silently add buy Teddy an expensively dumb toy to your checklist.

He sticks to your leg and is adamant on staying there. “I grew taller.” he says, looking at you between his eyelashes. “He says I didn’t, but I know I did!”

You chuckle, ignoring how Fred looks at the boy with such a warm expression, ignoring the way your heart nearly catapults out your chest.

“Well, stand straight soldier!” you demand.

Ted immediately lets go of your leg and straightens, hand going to his forehead to salute you. A giggle escapes him when you bend on your knees and act like you have a measuring stick on your hand. “Oh yes yes, seven feet tall and growing.” voice mock deep, you nod sternly.

“By this rate - I’ll pass you! Hah!” Teddy stomps his little foot on the stone floor, little sneakers barely making a sound.

You stand up again and fold your arms, “Well, I grow too you know! You can never pass me.” smirking slyly, you egg him on to see how much he’ll endure before he demands a ride on your shoulders - because that’s how giants saw the earth he told you. You doubt giants compare to a twenty four year old woman with attachment issues

Ted stands on his toes, struggling to tug on your shirt and bring you down. “No, I don’t like this game anymore…”

“Alright alright.” and with that you pick him up and prop the little boy on your shoulders.

Ted happily kicks his feet on your chest and you groan. He’s supposed to be five, not a midget wrestler. “Easy buddy boy.”

“You’re amazing with him, little twerp barely lets me tie his shoes.”

Fred’s voice startles you, only now do you realize that he had been watching you and Teddy. Speaking of, Ted’s busying himself with your hair, small hands pulling and twisting locks and mumbling incoherently.

Ear tips slowly catching fire, you chuckle. “Buy him a broom at four and see how he handles it.”

Fred shakes his head, tongue poking at the side of his cheek and you remind yourself to breathe. “You spoil him then? They say the way to a five year old's heart is money.”

“Damn, I’ll drink to that.”

Nuff words said, everyone soon sits on their designated chairs, and you pull one from another table, being the uninvited one.

Aleyna isn’t slick, you knew she had something up her sleeve the moment she had offered to pay for dinner. Though, this is your fault. You let her without calculating whatever end result was waiting to catch you off guard and ruin your entire life plan to avoid Fred Weasley.

Being the snake she is, snake Aleyna enticed you with nice food, dragged you to Sacree Fleur and did her little snake magic.

Awkwardly angled next to your best friend, you chat with Harry and Hermione while they tell you what you missed from work. (Not that you missed much, actually nothing different seems to have happened other than boring paperwork and Mrs Newersman’s new hairdo.)

Swirling your wine in one hand, the reflection of Fred from the rim of the glass keeps distracting you.

He’s changed, not personality wise though there were tweaks. Nor looks, he’s an adult now and his boyish charm is gone, but it isn’t quite that.

You can’t put a finger on it either, and you watch him laugh, carefree with his sister.

He looks relaxed, or maybe it’s merely the wine. Is it - no, couldn’t be. He looks happy. Genuine happiness and adoration for whomever. Love in his eyes as he looks at - Ah. He’s looking at you.

You jerk your head away and tip your wine glass back to gulp down liquid courage - because you need it tonight.  This is bad, you tell yourself, kick you on the shin and punch to your gut bad. This can’t keep up or else you’re going to end up right back in that hollow pit of empty hope and gooey saturday lasagna.

“So, any plans for Christmas Eve ____?”

Ron’s timbre voice thankfully grips your arms and pulls you away from said hollow pit.

“Uhh what?” you cough awkwardly, setting your now empty wine glass down.

“Christmas Eve, what are you doing? Going back home?” Ron asks, raising a brow.

You can lie but something compels you not to, maybe it’s how warmly they always welcome you, how they’re welcoming you now with open arms and nice food.

You shake your head, answering honestly; “No actually, I’ll just celebrate with Jambo and Christmas movies.”

And that’s exactly how you’ve been spending your Christmas Eve these past few lonesome years. It wasn’t that lonely, you had Aleyna and people loved her bar, you’d drop by and count down with people you didn’t know, at least you got to kiss a random stranger.

“Jambo? He’s still alive?” Hermione chuckles.

“No no, this is Jambo Fitzwilliam the Second, who is also a cat but don’t you dare tell him that!” smiling, you joke lightheartedly to conceal the harsh news.

Your hand reaches to trace around your scar as you speak.You know their eyes follow, and you know they stare at it when you’re not looking. Teddy asked you one day, even after Ginny’s scolding but you happily told him your heroic story and how Bellatrix smelled like piss and rum.

Sighing, you set your hand on your lap.

Jambo had unfortunately passed away because apparently dogs couldn’t live two hundred years, which you were disappointed because clearly Dumbledore could. You had already grieved and mourned, it left you with the happiest memories of your precious dog and you were grateful.

“Poor kitty doesn’t know he’s adopted?” George frowns, banging his fist on the table.

You roll your eyes, “I’m sure he’s caught on by now, he’s three.”

“So, you’re spending Christmas Eve alone?” Fred asks, too suddenly and you flinch. He probably sees this, his effect on you.

You nod, and your friends gasp. Surely it wasn’t that big of a deal, or maybe it’s because of how normal it felt for you to be alone.

“Why didn’t you tell us sooner?” Ginny says, hand shooting out to rub your arm.

“I’ve been trying to get her out for ages-“

“Aleyna, don’t.” you nudge her arm.

“No Aleyna, do!” Ginny protests. “You’re spending it with us and that’s that.”

“Wha-“

George throws up his finger to shush you, “No objections!” he declares fiercely. “We’re having a party at our flat and you both are coming!”

“Oh! Unless you and Blaise have any other plans.” Hermione’s quick to ask, she isn’t being slick though.

Aleyna chuckles, “We had dinner reservations but we can make it.”

Hermione grins, and you watch Aleyna pretend that she didn’t notice her friend ready to snoop in her relationship with an amused smile. Not that it matters - she and Blaise have that kind of love you hoped for as a young girl. There was truly no two other people so perfect for each other.

“How’s Blaise doing by the way?”

Aleyna takes a sip from her almost empty glass and tuts on the bitter after taste. “Amazing, actually. He just got promoted…”

Almost empty glasses are soon emptied bottles, and two steaks turn into a large brownie for the middle. You know that it’s a good meal, because as you stand outside in the midnight cold, arm around Aleyna, your legs wobble and your stomach aches from all the deliciousness you’ve consumed. More like inhaled, you only realized how hungry you were until the second steak arrived.

“Thank you so much you guys!” you wave your arm, overly theatrical, forgetting about what a day you’ve had.

Though, the thoughts catch up as you lay awake in bed.

It had gone by too quickly, and your heart is still beating louder than any chirping of the bugs outside. Your bedroom lacks furnishing, it only adds to your wild imagination. Your mind paints pictures on the blank walls as your eyes dart around, Fred didn’t look in your direction once that night.

Or maybe he did, only you didn’t see.

It’s strange, whenever you turned your gaze his way, he seemed to be busying himself with whatever, whether it be his fork or napkin. How interesting can a damn napkin be? Hopefully not any lesser than you.

And are you just going to ignore that goddamned bracelet? The one you carefully sculpted with beads in such a way that you were sure Fred would suspect at least a drop of your raging crush. He’s still wearing it, that piece of string and glass - the symbol of your love and effort - survived through a war.

Are you reading into things? Surely not, he greeted you as anyone else would. Or maybe he remembered - you don’t dare think of that night.

How can they act so normally, so brazen after everything? It’s been almost six years since you saw them, have they got nothing to say to you? Maybe an apology?

Frustrated, you turn to your side and force your eyes shut.

————————

When night bleeds into morning, every cat has a tendency to quip over to their owners on their cushioned paws - which makes no noise but simple claw scratchings on the floor.

Jambo’s no different.

So, you’d imagine the poor creature's shock when he finds your bedroom empty. If he’d bothered to check, you’re seated on your island stool, pen and parchment in hand and mug of hot coffee (instant given the circumstance) in the other.

You hung your new curtains this morning, and were making use of them by shutting them halfway on the hooks while your window stood half open. You watch the snow flurry outside and gulp. If this week was to go horribly wrong... at least you have nice curtains waiting for you at your ritzy new apartment.

Jambo wraps his tail around your dangling ankle like he always does and you barely hum in acknowledgement. He’s purring, and it brings you comfort even if it’s for a small moment. But your question still remains unanswered, What would a five year old boy want for christmas?

It had been exactly two days since Ginny invited you to spend Christmas Eve together, and you busied yourself with buying them gifts - a tradition you hated because 1. coming up with gift ideas is infuriatingly hard. It’s way too time consuming, nit picking every single personality and deciding what they’ll like and what they’ll pretend to like. Pretend like they’re going to use it, and then never touch it until that one very specific occasion.

Maybe it’s excessive, but you actually like these people. They somehow give you - a sad, lonely sewer rat that’d been a neglected child - joy.

And 2. you feel like those people you make fun of every Christmas. Though, somewhere deep in your heart, you know you enjoy being those people. You would never admit it though.

What? You actually relish in the idea that you belong to a group, and that said group causes you to carry out cliche holiday traditions?

Absolute blasphemy.

Finally deciding, you leave your apartment in warm but cher clothing. It isn’t as crowded this morning - or maybe it’s because it’s seven forty in the crack of fucking dawn. Though, with the amount of caffeine you’ve consumed, it feels like ten.

Would they even be open, you ask yourself, jogging quickly about the streets on your heels to avoid the cold. It’s Christmas, they have to be.

Of course your logic sucks.

Shivering, you round the corner tea shop and fasten your pace. Ass freezing, lip tucked in between your teeth, you realize you have underestimated the morning London cold.

Soon, thankfully, the giant head of George(?) you assume, comes into view. The animatronic is motionless, big porcelain eyes closed and displaying sinister gaping holes. You shiver, and not because of the cold either.

Keeping your eyes low on your feet, you push the glass doors of the shop open. You don’t bother to check the inside from the generous glass displays, it’s way too cold and you don’t want to spend any more time outside with the giant George doll.

A bell rings, a little jingle up above that puts a smile on your face. Jambo’s collar jingled like that whenever he got excited, whether it be a pesky squirrel ready to bum off your house food, or maybe a friendly one showing its face to piss off the house dog.

You sigh, and only then notice the delicious scent of fresh coffee roast. Invading through your nostrils and turning you into a drunkard, and you can’t help but gravitate towards-

Woah, you’ve had your coffee today.

“Who's here so early, couldn’t a man enjoy breakfa-”

You smile apologetically, it’s only natural that Fred just woke up. He isn’t a morning person, after years of knowing him you found out one way or another. In your case, he was mean to you and that’s when it clicked. Fred doesn’t like the early hours of morning, where his hair isn’t as tame and his lips feel like they’re about to pop. You find it charming.

“____?”, the man of the hour comes into view, standing at the top of the spiral staircase. The first step is a rung, rolling on the hinges of the wall's edges. The staircase rattles when Fred steps down, and you quickly jump forward in panic.

Mug in one hand, his fingers rake through his mussed morning hair then settles on the checkout counter. “Morning,” He smiles, and those dang smile lines greets you, as if they’re mocking you again.

“Morning, I know it’s early and-”

“It’s okay, have you had breakfast yet?”

Taken aback, you nod. Disappointment flashes through his face, and before you can analyze he straightens. Taking a sip of his coffee and humming, he fixes his pyjama bottoms. Red and checkered, loosely hanging from his hip and giving you a teasing view of his lower abdomen. “Can I get you anything?” he asks again, adamant on offering you something.

You shake your head no and you watch his face fall. Merlin, you would have come starving if it meant having breakfast with him. The view before you is enough to fulfill your darkest fantasies, and this is enough. Because you know that this is all you could get. His friendship.

But is it though? Is it truly enough? Will it ever be enough?

The questions that linger around your head have an answer that you wouldn’t dare set free. Everything you’re doing right now is wrong, how you’re standing in front of him, letting his delicious scent compel you further into him.

He smells almost alluring - he always does - less piquant than yesterday. Probably the after taste of neglecting a shower, yet his natural fragrance is just as charming. You remember those mornings at the Burrow when Fred stumbled down the stairs, sun early and bright, woken up just like himself. He smelled ama-

Woah, down girl.

Fred clears his throat, and only then do you realize how long it has been since you spoke.

“I need to buy something.” you blurt. Fuck, this couldn't get more embarrassing. “For Ted, his gift.” You finish lamely.

“Ah,” Fred chuckles, giving you a quick lookover. You flush. “You have come to the right place.”

It’s true, the shop is truly...something. A gateway to heaven for anyone twelve or younger. Fascinated, you take your time to linger your eyes on every little nook and cranny that catches your eye.

The shop feels much tamer without the telltale rowdy crowd, it’s almost comforting. You can really see a piece of each twin on each display, Fred’s being the Deflagration Deluxe. ‘A deluxe selection of Weasleys’ Wild-Fire Whiz-Bangs’ read on the big cardboard. You chuckle, he always had a bag full of them that he carried around religiously.

“Those!” he exclaims, scurrying over to the display, “New and improved by yours truly.”

You chuckle, and Fred breaks out into a smile. “Here, I’ll show you around.” he mutters, before you can utter a protest, he takes your hand in his and drags you to a shelved corridor. “This is his favorite section, explosives and quidditch.”

You smile as you scan the heaps of colorful products lining the walls, all engraved with the shop's signature logo. Fingers coming out to touch a few, you subconsciencly swing your encased hands together. “These are real neat.”

Fred smirks, though his palms feel hotter than usual, “Not so much when he’s blowing up the bloody flat.”

You chuckle softly, eyes fluttering to imagine little Ted shaking up a pair of fireworks, unknowingly setting them off and resulting in a giant black mark on the ceiling. Because only that explains the small black stains on the walls of the shop.

“See anything you like?” Fred offers, almost in a whisper.

“No I,” you turn back to him, and something flashes between the two of you. “I’m still…looking.”

The air feels tense, warm, affecting your body. Your breath catches in your throat, Fred’s eyes bore into yours with such intensity that you don’t know what to do. Even your breathing feels on edge.

He moves closer to you and your heart flutters. His exhales hit your ear, only a breadth away from your neck and you flinch. Chills lift up the hair on your arms, “No...erm.” you mutter.

“Alright.” he says softly.

His eyes are hooded, displaying a perfectly long set of eyelashes.

How, is the question. They’re long and thick, and you’re jealous. Yes, you might have ruined yours with your curler but still, if you were born with eyelashes like that you wouldn’t even need a blasted curler.

“What are you thinking ‘bout.” he whispers, long digit lifting to stroke your cheek. So soft that you barely feel it, before he trails it up your cheekbones, to the panes of your face.

The same alarms blast in your ears, and you can’t ignore them this time. It isn’t that you don’t like this, on the contrary you’re ready to jump him.

“Eva!”

Fred takes a step back, face falling. “What?”

You shake off whatever just happened seconds ago and focus on reality. “Gosh, I forgot to ask.” you exclaim, over excited but at what cost. “How is she doing? Is she up there in the flat?”

Fred winces. “Actually-”

“I’m guessing you guys moved in together, after all those years you know. Don’t tell me you guys got marr-”

“____!” he takes a deep breath, “We broke up a few years ago.”

You freeze. “What?”

They broke up? “Why, oh Fred-”

Fred shushes you with a finger. Embarrassed, warmth spreads through you like a tidal wave. “I fell out of love, but it felt nice to have someone around, you know?”

You don’t say anything, yes you know but his loneliness and yours is much too different.

Growing up, Fred had the support of his family, he always had someone there. You knew it was bad to dismiss him like this, but the aching in your heart wasn’t going to allow him to speak like that. He always had someone affirming that it would be okay, someone to pat his back whenever he scored a goal through a hoop, whenever he got a good grade or did a cool trick with his broom. He still had them, even if he was at his worst. He had endless support. You didn’t.

It wasn’t easy after the war, living alone with nothing but the collar of Jambo gripped tightly in your hands. He had died shortly after Voldemort fell, and you had to hang onto the last piece he left until your agony died down. That was your only support.

Ginny, Hermione and Aleyna were there of course, but everyone's way of coping is different, and they didn’t understand yours nor each other’s. It’s worse to try and forget, run away from that fear because it would always catch up with you, and you found that the best way is to sit and feel.

But that doesn't mean your friends weren’t any less supportive. The after effects of the war were way more harsh on you than you let on, you were stuck on autopilot - a painful loop that made your life feel worthless. Work, money, survival - the three main aspects occupying your mind at all times. You didn’t have the love and attention to give to friends or a relationship (maybe that’s why it never worked out) but soon, Ginny and Hermione had reached out to you.

It was a simple letter delivered by their family owl Nebula - a descendant of poor old Errol. You remember tears pooling in your eyes when they told you how much they missed you, they gave meaning to your life. It was no longer the painful loop, they invited you over for dinner, visited every other day after hooking up your house Floo Network, you were always a welcomed guest in their homes.

They made you realize that friendship didn’t need much energy nor hard effort, just being there for each other was enough. Love for someone came naturally, and you didn’t need to extract some of your own self-love to give to others. They were two different things.

Skimming past that, you watch Fred show you three different options of Make Your Own Fireworks kits. You smile solemnly, accept a random one and quietly follow him to the checkup counter.

“So.” he starts, wrapping the product with the paper design you picked. “How about you, anyone special?”

Drumming your fingers on the counter, you shrug. “I dated Theo Nott for a year, I knew nothing would come out of it but like you said, nice to have someone.”

He raises an eyebrow, “Nott? Really?” he frowns. “Can’t believe that tosser managed to-”

You snort, “What is that supposed to mean?”

Shrugging, Fred hands you the package. “Nothing, it’s just that -” he pauses and his eyes look at you like you should know what he’s talking about. As if the two of you have some sort of telepathic connection, Fred was always like this.

He would look at you like you understood a word you said, even though he’s been silent for the past minute or so. He always struggled to express himself, and you’re sad to see that this habit followed him into adulthood.

Nonetheless, you smile. “Just that what?”

“Nevermind,” he sighs. “That’ll be twenty five galleons.”

“Twenty what?” Your eyes widen. “You heartless man!”

Fred gapes at you, struggling to keep a straight face.

“Twenty five, to your oldest pal? Twenty and a stick of gum.”

Fred pretends to think. “How about you keep the gum and give me twenty four.”

“Twenty two.” you narrow your eyes, leaning forward on the counter. “Oh come on, it’s Christmas!”

Fred scoffs,“I am giving you the holiday discount!”

Grumbling, you reluctantly stick your hand in your purse and take out your wallet. “I won’t forget this. You’re in my book.”

Fred gasped dramatically, “Not the book!” he exclaims, “Twenty two then, please for the love of merlin not the book.”

You lift your chin, head tilting to the side to survey him mockingly. “Twenty two it is, you won’t get away so easily next time.”

The two of you giggling, you pay him the money and leave a few sickles. “For the great service.” you say, him pretend-blushing at your words and tucking a strand of his shoulder length hair behind his ear.

He speaks after some time, the laughter has died down and left it’s comforting after taste. “I missed you ____, why didn’t you visit?”

That turns the after taste into pure panic.

How can he ask that when the answer is so obvious. Fred’s still cruel it seems, he doesn’t bat an eyelash as he speaks. He knows the reason.

“Oh you know,” you start after some time, “Work and stuff.” you lie, and fight the urge to cringe at your words.

Though Fred doesn’t buy it, he doesn’t push it either. He simply nods, looking down at the checkout counter. You’re glad he’s avoiding your gaze, because it makes your departure much easier. “See you at the party Fred, thanks for the...uh. Yeah.” you awkwardly lift your bag up and give him a wave before pushing yourself outside. You can finally breathe.

——————

You look good.

Or, at least you think you do.

Blaise was arriving in exactly seven minutes and you barely just put on your dress. You’re sure of this because Blaise is always on time, he even has an unnecessarily expensive watch on his right hand that he obsessively likes to check. At least Aleyna’s into it, frantically trying to strap her heels, she’s wriggling herself towards the front door to somehow track her lover. You don’t know how love works, maybe they can smell each other from a mile away or something.

Shaking your head, you fluff your hair and wipe a hand across your under eye after wetting it with your tongue. You think Aleyna calls for you, you’re not sure because you’re too occupied trying to decide if you’re going to wear lipstick.

“Hey,” you walk out of your bathroom door and scurry towards her, “should I?”

Aleyna raises a brow. You scoff, “Stop doing that, you know I can’t raise mine individually.”

“Sounds like a you problem.”

“I’m about to make it your problem too if you don’t help me.”

As reflex, you roll your eyes. You only do this because you know it reminds Aleyna of that one chick from Blaise’s workplace - she knows no boundaries, apparently. It’s a shitty move, but it’s a shitty world.

Aleyna carefully inspects the two products you hold tightly between your hands. A simple shimmery gloss and a nude, almost dark red lipstick you stole - borrowed - from her. “Depends, who are you smooching?”

Throwing her an incredulous look, you hold out the two products on your palms. “I’m not smooching anyone.”

Unless of course Fred Weasley asks, if he does you would pull out makeup wipes from thin air and jump into his arms with naked lips ready to be kissed. Though, that’s only a fantasy and Fred is emotionally unavailable...scratch that, you are.

You’re not sure how tonight is going to end, and you can’t help but be aware of that looming clump of anxiety, clutching on your chest and refusing to let go until you're assured that it’s going to be fine.

“The gloss, just in case.” Aleyna stops your train of thought before it trashes off its tracks and crashes somewhere in Fred McDreamy land.

You nod, making no further inquiries and getting yourself ready as best as you can. Fixing your bodice and giving your scar a quick look, you finally hear the doorbell ring after a few long minutes, followed by Blaise’s deep voice greeting his girlfriend. You give the couple a few seconds to smooch - if you will, before walking back to the living room.

Blaise grins when he sees you, he’s wearing a sleek black suit with its first two collar buttons undone - you expect no less class from him.

“Happy Christmas!” you chime, pulling him into a hug and squeezing him tight just enough so you can whisper in his ear. “I hope you picked out the second ring, Zabini.”

Blaise swallows thickly before laughing, you know this because you physically feel him start to sweat. “I swear I did, don’t worry I have a plan.” he winks after letting go.

“I knew you were going to say that,” he loops an arm around Aleyna’s waist and pulls her by his side. “Only the best for my girl.”

Aleyna gives you both questioning looks.

You quickly clear your throat, “Anyways, let’s go before the serenading and the rose petals start.”

The three of you finally leave, the walk down your apartment building feels way too short, and the moment you exit you’re hit with the wonderfully chilly Christmas air.

For a moment, you forget where you’re going.

Lights are hung up everywhere, across shops, tangled through trees and some floating in the air. You can’t see the night sky, Diagon Alley has one of its own, adorned with radiant moons and luminous stars just bright enough for people to navigate themselves through crowds with zero accidents. It feels breathtakingly overwhelming.

Glass ornaments are charmed to fly across, a special show prepared by Madame Mulkin, and Mr. Eyelop tuned in by letting out a few snow owls rest around random trees to add to the warm atmosphere. There’s flavour wafting around the air, you inhale again to identify it better.

Speeding your way through - it hits you, gingerbread and chocolate.

You clutch your bag towards your chest, suddenly you feel disgustingly sappy. Though, you are in public so you decide to shake off that small warmth threatening your heart and continue walking towards Weasley’s Wizard Wheezes.

The walk towards the shop feels too short again, you almost check your watch to see if Hermione’s playing with the time turner again.

You almost turn on your heel, dump the bundle of presents you’ve bought on their front door and leave. You can, in theory, you’ve separated from Aleyna and Blaise midway through and you can just run and never look back.

Tough luck, when you walk through the generously decorated shop and up the stairs, you’re disappointed to see their flat door wide open.

You stare at it, it feels too inviting. Frank Sinatra blares through the walls, you can smell hints of incense, trailing through your nose and tickling you, causing you to sneeze. You were always sensitive towards smells, and it never bothered you until now.

“Bless you!” George Weasley appears, rounding a corridor and greeting you with open arms into his neat dress shirt. He hugs you like you’re family, and if you weren’t holding a sack like Santa Clause with his your jolly ass hanging on by the mere piece of fabric of your dress you would have hugged back.

“Thanks, Happy Christmas George.” you smile when he takes the sack from your hands and weighs it with raised brows.

“You didn’t have to buy anything ____!” he pats your shoulder, hand trailing to your lower back to navigate you inside. “We are the gift givers, you’re our guest.”

You chuckle, walking through the long entrance corridor, “Of course I’m getting gifts you quack.”

George scoffs, “Using my words against me now are we?”

When you gaze up at the famous joke shop as a little civilian in the streets of Diagon Alley, you don’t expect to catch the sight of a flat this large. You knew it was sizable since two grown men somehow fit and live there, but you underestimated just how successful Weasley’s Wizard Wheezes was.

The floors are wood, clean with even several shoes stepping around, chattering with wine glasses in their wobbly hands. A bulletin board hangs next to a quidditch rack filled with different kinds of equipment - old and new.

Too entranced by the cozy interior, you don’t bother stealing glances at the bulletin board. The kitchen and living room are connected, yet they still somehow feel like completely different rooms. The den is lit up by a brick fireplace, lightly crackling and making the atmosphere all the more comfortable. The soft fur (faux you hoped, though Mr Weasley did have a muggle hunting rifle phase which you thoroughly discouraged) carpet tickles your ankles and you have to hold onto George’s arm for support

“Bevvy?” he offers you, holding out a pint beer glass and you shake your head, admiring the apartment further.

Most couches are leather yet they still look comfortable, the kitchen is big but not obnoxiously so, you can hear the clinking of a foosball table - commotion makes sense in their apartment - the wide living space narrows through a corridor, leading to what you assume must be bedrooms.

You’re glad Fred and Eva broke up, because you decide then and there that you’re going to visit the twins everyday despite your history, just to step into this apartment again.

“____!”

Angelina’s sweet voice causes your unease to vanish in an instant and you crush her in a tight hug.

“Merry Christmas!” you smile, looping an arm around her shoulder and letting her guide you through the flat. “You changed your hair!”

Angelina nudges you with her hip, “Thank merlin you noticed, George is clueless.”

“Oh? George? You never told me - Hey Cho!”

You’re cut off by several familiar faces greeting you and telling you to make yourself comfortable. And you do, right next to Hermione and Ginny, two pregnant and fierce women that keep bickering with their husbands because of their weird cravings.

“I’m with you on this one Gin’!” you snort, eyeing Harry. You have a wine glass in one hand and the power you hold makes you feel too confident. “If the woman wants sausages marinated with toothpaste, she’s getting sausages marinated with toothpaste!”

Harry grumbles, “Will you please stop fueling this!” he protests, downing his drink and banging this on the table. “Look sweetheart, you wanted onions and mustard just a second ago so I got you ‘em, what made you change your mind?”

Ginny bangs her fist on the coffee table, in addition to Harry’s outburst. It seemed everyone was banging stuff on tables, so you do too.

“You think I know? Sod off or get me my toothpaste!” Ginny yells, banging another fist after you.

Harry kneels down next to the foot of the couch and holds his wife’s hand, gently massaging her knuckles. “We can’t get you toothpaste,” he says calmly.

“Why!” says Ginny, banging another fist.

“I think you know why,” says Harry.

“Stop damaging my property.” says George, materializing out of thin air.

You feel bad for Harry, you truly do but it only lasts for a second because this is even more entertaining than watching Aunt Muriel try to play foosball while shouting ‘Come at me you haired back marys!’

You’re enjoying yourself, the buzz, the warmth, the scent of fire. It’s comfortable and not at all like a party. It’s as if you’re visiting your friends for thanksgiving, homely and welcoming.

Though, the first crack forms when you see Fred, eyeing you from the small bar of their kitchen.

Dressed in navy slacks and a red, turtleneck sweater, he leans against the counter with a glass of Firewhiskey clutched on his big hand. He swirls it as his lips twitch, keeping his gaze set on you. His hair falls on his eyes, mostly pushed back but how strong hair gel can really be?

He looks good, way too good for a party. But it’s not the outfit, it's his entire presence. The way he holds himself, acts, speaks - shit, it’s attractive. He can do anything and he’ll always have that charismatic charm, it makes you feel envious, not to mention incredibly horny.

It’s Christmas, it’s a sacred holiday. You can’t let Fred sexy Weasley get to you, no matter how unapproachable and out of your league he looks.

You’re the bigger person - apparently - and you decide to greet him first.

You don’t know what compels you to do this, but it must be quite a strong force because you feel yourself start to quiver when you abandon your place on the couch. It’s so strong that your wobbly legs carry you while you push through tipsy friends and hold you up all the way to the kitchen area.

“Merry Christmas.” you croak, pulling him in a quick hug which he returns happily.

“Merry Christmas yourself.”  he smiles, gaze drifting lower to your dress only for a second before he swallows.

His signature cologne that you’ve engraved deep in your head this past week bursts out again. You smile softly, relishing in him.

“You look,” he seems to be giving much more thought on whatever he’s about to say, he settles on; “Beautiful, you’re, uh - the dress.” he finishes lamely.

“Oh,” your face falls. The dress is beautiful, not you. Of course. “Thank you, I would say you don’t look too bad yourself but that would be a lie.”

Fred raises a brow, putting his wine glass on the bar with a clink before slowly turning on his heel. “Aw, cheers love.” he says casually, “Wore it for you,”

You raise both your brows, “Is that so?” you fight a grin.

“This little number is my lucky charm.” he smirks, pulling on his shirt. “Made women fall at my feet back in the day, maybe you will too.” he finishes, more bashfully than before. His cheeks are tinted pink and, now, for the first time, you feel clueless.

Your heart stutters when you speak, “Trying to butter me up Frederick?” you say shly, nudging the tip of his shoe with yours.

Fred winks. “And what if I am?” he suddenly straightens, arms folding together. His head bows as he continues with a smile, “I’m joking, got this a week ago for the party.”

You fight the urge to smile, “Ah, so not the chick magnet.”

“Well,” Fred laughs, “It’s still very wolfish.”

“Whatever you say, big ole pussy cat.” you pat him on the shoulder.

Fred scoffs good naturally, “Ah, you hurt my pride ____.”

When you don’t say anything, his gaze falls on you. He takes the time to look at you, really take you in and it makes your efforts feel appreciated for once. He takes a deep breath, head careening left for a moment.

“It’s not just the dress.” he rubs the back of his neck, eyes falling on your scar. “You really are beautiful.”

Your hand immediately flies to your brow, tracing a finger down the gash. It’s not as noticeable anymore and your hair grew back - thankfully - but the knowledge that it’s still there, parading itself to everyone makes you feel much more self conscious than you should.

Fred’s hand closes over yours and you freeze. “You might not think so, but not only is your scar a wicked bedtime story, it’s very attractive.”

Your ears feel hot, “You think I’m attractive?”

It’s a nice compliment - especially when it comes from a man like Fred.

“Do I think you’re,” he gasps, giving you an incredulous look. “Of course you’re - ! I mean you can’t be asking me that - are you, gah!”

A chuckle bubbles from your throat. It’s quite amusing watching Fred Weasley struggling to speak, clearly embarrassed. The knowledge that you made him this way, you were sleeping like a baby tonight that’s for sure.

“Look, ____. I actually wanted to tell you something really important.” he fidgets with his cuffs.

You furrow your brows, “Of course, what is it?”

“I used to, well I think I still do because it never truly went away but - okay, this is harder than I thought.”

You chuckle nervously. “Fred, you’re freaking me out here.”

You hear him mutter something along the likes of what’s wrong with me, until he speaks again.

“What I meant to say was, I wan-“

“Oh my god, ____, Fred!”

When you left your apartment a few days ago, your mind didn’t calculate the outcomes of meeting Fred Weasley.

The impact is so strong that it causes your past to - not flash, because this is painful - slowly start playing before your eyes, like a play you have to sit through because the seats were expensive, and the star of the show, the star of your own life is standing right in front of you.

She’s wearing a gorgeous, gold cocktail dress. The costume design is delicate, it’s the type of dress you flutter your fingers in (the fabric is ticklish and soft, you just had to touch it) before moving onto the next. The rack is full of other suitable options, because you know you can never wear a dress like that.

But Eva can. She was always gorgeous, you couldn’t compare.

Fred’s eyes are wide, the way he’s tugging on your dress makes worry wash over you. “Eva? Erm - who invited you?” His words sound more bitter than he intends them to, or at least you think so.

“Oh, is that how you treat guests around here?” she fucking giggles, playfully slapping his shoulder.

You can’t tell if she’s purposely ignoring you - you’re standing right there - or just forgot your existence after seeing Fred in those pants because sweet merciful heavens.

Fred shifts uncomfortably, “Right sorry well, Merry Christmas!” he’s back to normal, addressing her as he addresses anyone else you can’t help but smirk.

Of course, you immediately jump on this opportunity. Eva may have ruined most of your childhood, she may currently look gorgeous - mockingly so, but you’re not kids anymore. No matter how insignificant you feel, you still have your pride to protect.

“Merry Christmas,” you add, jumping forward. “How long has it been?”

Eva’s expression turns sour, though she conceals it quickly. “____! Oh I love your dress.”

She doesn’t wish you a merry christmas.

“Happy holidays Freddie! Where can a girl get a drink around here?” she squeaks? You’re not sure, her voice is too sweet and you don’t know how to act.

Fred grins, “Right there,” he points to a corner far away from the kitchen. “Lee’s in charge of drinks, I’m sure he can hook you up with something.”

Eva ponders, pausing for a beat. She’s expectantly staring at Fred, though when he shows no intention of accompanying her she gives you a menacing look and leaves.

You didn’t expect a big reunion because you saw Eva a few months ago at the hospital, you had sprained an ankle while training with Ron, and she tried to heal you before the Head Healer cut in and told her to take a walk.

Fred’s weight relaxes as soon as Eva’s out of view, it doesn’t take much to know something happened between the two - it wasn’t a harmless breakup like Fred had told you. You don’t push it though, if he wants to tell you he will.

“Well that was,” you say, and he hums in response, swirling his drink in one hand. You watch the gold hue with him for a moment. “Interesting.”

He snorts, “She drops by every Friday to give me green apples. I hate green apples.”

“How long did you guys date?” you can’t help the words that tumble out of your lips.

He stares at you for a moment, you swear his lip almost twitch in a smile before he clears his throat. “Three years, I thought I loved her for a year.”

“Well what changed your mind?”

Fred looks at you like you just asked the dumbest question a joke shop owner could hear. “You, daft idiot, you did.”

“Wha-” you stammer. “What the hell is that supposed to mean?”

Fred groans. “I need a drink.” and with that, he leaves towards where Eva previously walked on her precious Chanel heels. Leaves you alone.

It wasn’t like you called the man's family a disgrace and cursed his entire bloodline. Confused, you decide that maybe you need a drink as well to survive this night.

Everyone you had talked to so far ended with a disagreement, except George because he probably felt bad for you and your huge red gift sack. Embarrassment fills your cheeks as you walk towards the beverage table, you shouldn’t have come tonight.

The cherry on top gets dropped on the shit sundae when Eva Burke bumps into your shoulder and causes you to spill your drink.

“Oops! Babe I’m so sorry,” She pulls a red cloth from the glass table filled with different types of intoxications and rubs it on the fabric of your dress, further ruining it.

Embarrassment turns into frustration, this turns into pure anger. You see red.

You snatch the cloth from her hands and lightly push her forward, Eva dramatically - and very theatrically - falls on the ground with a yelp.

“Oh get up!” you hiss, throwing the cloth on the ground.

Eva scrambles to her feet, holding her right ankle with dainty, perfectly manicured hands. “Oh, now we’re turning to violence are we? Some things never change.”

You let out a frustrated grumble, stumping your heel on the ground. “I really don’t have time for this Eva.”

“We’re just talking babe, I don’t understand why you’re so upset over this.”

“I’m not upset, I’m tired.” you sigh.

Suddenly with her magically healed ankle she trudges forward. “Is it the dress?” she pouts, bending down to eye the splotch on your chest. “I can pay for it, say...two sickles?”

Your eyes narrow, “How about this, you show me how your career is going and I’ll decide if you can afford a wash.”

Eva barks out a laugh, “How about this, I’ll show you a family picture album.”

Gasping, you hold back the urge to slap her. You never expected Eva to stoop this low, and you know you shouldn’t be upset over it but it hurts. It hurts how easily she can use your family against you with no remorse.

Beyond pissed, insulted and done with tonight, you pull out your wand and get ready to apparate. This time it’s not to run away, nor do you feel like a coward. You feel tired, using your palms to press into your temple and relieve your throbbing headache.

Eva grips your wand and tries to pull you forward with failed force. “Let’s get this straight, Fred’s not interested in you.”

“And you think he’s interested in you?” you laugh, “You broke up remember?

Eva flings her long hair back, “And I’m gonna get him back. No one breaks up with me.”

“So, you're still a narcissistic bitch.” you smile.

“And you’re still pathetically clinging onto whatever I touch.” She takes a step forward, and it hits you then and there that you aren’t going home sooner or later. “Wanna know why we broke up?”

You hold your breath, her perfume is too sweet and you can’t process her words.

“He caught me cheating.” she smirks. “And he still begged me to stay, after all that.”

Your nostrils flare, and you’re about ready to punch her. You’ve never seen someone so prideful, so proud to have done something so obaminable. But it doesn’t surprise you, you pity her.

“Some loser from the bank.” she mockingly wipes a nonexistent tear with her jeweled wrist. “See, that’s the difference between me and you ____. “

You almost scream bloody murder. “Oh do enlighten me.” Your voice is weirdly high pitched but you don’t seem to care.

“He begged me, not you. He’ll never want you. You’ll always end up with the leftovers ____, accept that.” she hisses, taking another step forward.

You don’t know what you’ve done to the woman standing before you with nothing but red fire in her eyes, she looks ready to pull out your hair follicle by follicle, yet it makes you smirk. With a shit eating grin on your face, it hits you. “I knew it.” you laugh.

Eva stutters, “What?”

“Why you’re actually delusional to think he’s taking you back.”

“Oh but he will.” she protests, stomping her heel.

“No, he won’t.”

When you see Eva stay quiet, you continue. ”You grew up spoiled rotten, your parents love you, hell my parents love you, you always had the most friends and always got your way.”

She smirks, you’re tempted not to continue but years of pent up anger is ready to burst through your chest. “Yeah, jealous are we?” Eve mocks, and you quiver as you speak. Stating the obvious doesn’t hurt you anymore.

“No, because you grew up thinking everyone will love you, no matter how wrong you are, or what horrible things you do, you’ll always think that people won’t stop being by your side.” you shake your head, tutting. “But you’re wrong. I guess that’s what too much love does to you - you think a simple sorry will fix what you did? Because no, it won’t.”

“Oh stop it, Fred wants me back, it’s painfully obvious.” Eva speaks, but she doesn’t sound sure at all.

“I’ll make it clear for you.” you smile. “Fred won’t take you back for cheating, you won’t get a second chance in your career, and you sure as hell won’t be getting an apology from me.”

By now, you don’t care who's listening, because they are. Oh, they’re eating this kitty fight up like free dessert Monday at Fleur’s. Your childhood friends are watching you with intense, widened eyes. And somehow, in a cruel, wicked way, you feel satisfaction. The harsh words slipping out of your lips like nectar, in comparison to the way they slap Eva across the face fills you with nothing but disgusting satisfaction.

Sure, it’s immature and yes, you could’ve worded everything much better to be even more impactful, but the way her eyes are bloodshot and vengenceful, it’s enough for you.

Eva grits her teeth, and you know she doesn’t have much to say. “I don’t need an apology from you, ____.” she speaks, and her next words cause you to freeze, because no matter what wrong doing, she’s still right. ”You’re right, I might not be forgiven, but in the end I will always be better than you. People will always favour me more and you can never change that.”

You try to lunge forward, teeth gritter. With harsh impact, you topple backwards. Strong arms are wrapped around your chest, holding you back from gouging Eva’s eyes out with the toothpick from the martini glasses.

“Nice weather we’re having,” Fred says, a deep rumble coming from his chest and against your back. You fight the urge to shiver, though you’re way too angry to be thinking of how good he smells. “Why don’t we sober up sweetheart.” he asks you, whispering.

“No!” you shriek, struggling to move forward. “This isn’t over until I break her nose!”

Eva laughs, “Oh come at me, babe! Let’s see what a traumatized neglected child can do, yeah?” her eyes flash.

A deep, growling of distress leaves you. “Oh let me go! Let’s see what a filthy adulter can do!”

“I didn’t mean to cheat you know!”

You groan, “Heaven’s above let me go Fred.”

Eva takes two steps forward before Lee grasps her arms. “But these things happen for a reason!” her shrill voice causes you to wince.

“Yeah, you!” you cry.

Eva shrieks, lunging forward in an attempt to reach you again, and at that moment Fred seems to have about enough.

“Alright, that’s it.” His stern voice causes you to flinch, muscular arms still holding you close to his chest, he yanks you backwards and starts walking towards the corridor. “That’s enough with the both of you, Lee take Eva outside, get her some fresh air.”

——————

Fred has the decency to take you to his bedroom rather than toss you outside like he had done with Eva.

If the situation was any different, you’d be over the moon right now. Alone? With Fred Weasley? In his big bedded, fireplace occupying, additional bathroom having bedroom?

Said situation did not have you sitting on a leather rocking chair, big mug of coffee in hand while Fred lectures you like a parent. Actually, you wouldn’t know.

You’ve been quiet for the past fifteen minutes, too scared to say anything and anger him further. You knew how much this party meant to him, and you had ruined it with your childish, pent up jealousy. It wasn’t just you per say, but you had let Eva get to you.

“Can’t the two of you act your age for one fucking second,” he groans, hand propped against the brick fireplace. “I know how infuriating she is, but you-” inhaling sharply, he strides towards you. “Say something will you?”

“Why didn’t you tell me she cheated?”

Fred’s expression softens. “What?”

You gulp, you shouldn’t have brought it up when he was agitated, but you can’t listen to him while the words echo around your head. You feel awful, insensitive, anything else to call yourself that makes you feel better towards your lack of judgement. “She cheated, you didn’t tell me. Why?”

Fred pauses, after what feels like a seconds he bends down on his knees in front of you while you watch him, engrossed.

“Been waiting for you to bring it up.” he chuckles, his smile disappearing in an instant. His ginger locks hang in front of you and you realize that his shampoo, like the rest of him, smells amazing. You fight the intense urge to card your fingers through.

“Merlin, I just,” he meets your eyes. “I felt ashamed.”

Suddenly standing up, your hands flail. “Why?”

Fred stands up as well. His stance alarms you, arms wrapped around himself, brows furrowed and defensive. “Not ashamed because of you, because of myself.”

You take a step forward when Fred indicates that he’s going to continue. “I thought you were going to judge me. Bloody coward, can’t even break up with his cheating girlfriend.”

You scoff, “Fred, I’ve known you since I was eleven. Sure we had some tough times but do you really think that low of me?”

Now he scoffs, it’s nothing short of mockery. “Tough times my arse. You avoided us like the plague, ____.”

“I had my reasons,” you raise your voice, wincing slightly and it only fuels Fred’s anger.

“Proper liar you are, you didn’t even write, or even just explain why you suddenly walked out.”

You don’t feel ashamed for what you did, it was for your own good. Though, Fred’s right. You never gave a proper reason other than those childish insults at Hog’s Head. But now, with your head banging, you can’t think logically.

“Again.” you grit your teeth, words spilling between like venom. “I had my reasons.”

Fred quickly stalks towards you, enough so you can reach a hand, grab his jaw and smash your lips against his. But you don’t. “Excuse me for not giving a rat's arse about your reasons, do you know how worried I was!”

His words pull a small gasp from your lips, you refuse to believe him. “If you were so worried, you could’ve spoken to me all those years. How about that summer huh? I stayed over.”

“But I did speak to you!” Fred shouts, and your fists clench. “You were a bitch to me, remember?”

Your groan is filled with contempt. “You take that back!” your fist lifts to smack him on the chest, and you curse his overwhelmingly hard and attractive biceps. Shit, you really shouldn’t be feeling like this during a fight.

“You wanna know why I did all that?” you cry out, tears ready to strain your cheeks but you won’t forgive yourself if you cried in front of him.

“Oh do tell?” he seethes, grasping your fist in a quick motion and holding it beside him before you can smack his chest again. “Merlin woman keep your-”

“Because I was in love with you, you dickwad!”

Fred freezes - second time that night.

Your heartbeat pounds against your chest, you feel vulnerable. Oh so vulnerable and stupid, you shouldn’t have said it.

Fuck fuck fuck.

You should have just kept your stupid mouth shut, dragged your stupid ass back home and took a stupid shower.

But it was too late.

Fred takes a slow step back, continued by several until he’s on the other side of the room with his arms propped against a wall, head hanging low. He’s breathing heavily, you’re finally crying.

“So you aren’t going to say anything?” you yell, stomping your heel on the ground. “Do you know how hard it was for me to watch you and Eva all those years, you wouldn’t even look at me.” you choke on your sobs, remembering everything. The painful memories, the emotions hit you like the Ford Angelia with Ron behind the wheels.

“The Yule Ball, I saw you two together. It hurt so much and I cou- umpfh”

You almost swallow your tongue.

Soft lips, those are the only words writing out in your mind. Fireworks erupting around the letters and causing shivers to run around your entire being. Taken aback, you can’t move until your mind processes that Fred Weasley is kissing you.

Fred groans, opening your mouth with his and grazing his tongue against your bottom lip. It’s so gentle that you doubt you feel it, until his hand grips the back of your head and presses you against him harder. Now you can taste the wet, warm feel of his tongue against yours, the certain flicks of the tip gracing your own.

He pulls back only slightly, panting against your lips and causing your breaths to intermingle intimately. “The Yule Ball,” he starts, going back in for another, hurried kiss.

“She told me, you - closer.” He yanks you in by your waist with his other hand, palm gripping your ass and kneading it with vigour.

“Told me she saw you with someone else,” he pulls you closer when your hands wrap around his shoulders. “It broke me ____.”

“Fred,” you sigh, gripping on his sweater tighter.

“That’s Freddie for you, love.”

Heat curls in your lower belly. His lips are on yours again, begging you for something you didn’t quite know yet. “Freddie,” you chant.

“That’s right.” he chuckles lowly, his rumbling voice against your chest.

You merely shiver, latch onto the tufts on his neck and anchor him lower to your lips until your lungs are overwhelmed with nothing but slow, languid kisses. Fred kissed really good - oh who were you kidding, he was the best kiss you’ve ever had. It’s addictively so, and you chase his lips when he pulls away.

“I,” he breaths, whispering. “I was so devastated by what Eva told me,” he hugs you tighter. “I loved - still love you so much, I didn’t know how to cope.”

“You love me?” Now, there’s more tears. You aren’t sure if they’re of pure joy, frustration or the ache between your legs. “For how long?”

“Since third year,” he murmurs against your cheek, breathing in your scent and shakily exhaling. “I still wear the bracelet, never took it off.”

“I saw,” you nuzzle your head in his chest, your heart feels like it’s about to burst. “It made me so happy, I thought you would have lost it by now or something.”

“Oh Flower, there you are hurting my pride again.”

The nickname knocks all the breath out of your lungs. You only hug him tighter, not daring to mention that throughout these years you flinched whenever someone said flower, or how you simply refused to visit any flower shop. Yes, it did cause problems during holidays and of course, funerals but at least your Disney gift cards contained sentiment.

“I wasn’t with anyone during the Yule Ball.” you mutter.

“I know.”

“Then why didn’t you come back?”

Fred shivers. “I didn’t know back then, Merlin if I had…”

“You’re an idiot.” you chuckle, hurriedly wiping away the drying tears from your cheeks.

“That’s right,” Fred rasps, pulling your face towards his. “I’m a stupid, stupid prat.”

That was, if the loud countdown roaring outside Fred’s bedroom door didn’t ruin the most pleasurable lips you were going to taste - yet again.

Your eyes widen, Fred whines and pulls you back into his arms but you’re already rushing to the closed door. “We’re missing the count down!”

“Oh come one,” Fred steps behind you, hand over yours to grip the knob. You struggle under his hold and try to turn it. “I’ll make you count, hop on the bed, love.”

You have to gulp down nothing but air to keep yourself at bay. God, yes, you would have shouted, stripped naked and let him have his way with you.

But you can’t, not with your friends right outside the door, slightly tipsy and merrily counting down from ten. Speaking of, they’re nearing seven - you have exactly seven seconds to push Fred off and throw yourself outside.

Six seconds until you turn the knob and ignore Fred’s protests, five until Harry and Ginny throw their arms around your shoulders, four until George decides not the comment on you and Fred’s flushed appearance, three until Fred does, two until you’re suddenly pulled forward - one, Fred’s kissing you in front of his friends and family.

Fuck.

It was that one, long second that Ron lets the confetti burst in utter silence while everyone stares at you. It’s a quick yet passionate peck - enough for couples to abandon their new year's kiss and focus solely on yours.

“Finally!” George yells.

Ginny cheers after his brother, “Took you ten bloody years!”

Last of the Weasleys, Ron, gapes. “When did that become a thing?” he mutters, completely oblivious but still happy nonetheless.

If Hermione and Ginny hadn’t swept you away, you would have spent your night glued to Fred’s side, demanding to show him off after all those years of pining.

Your two friends keep asking questions - not overly detailed considering Fred’s Ginny’s older brother. Your lips hurt from smiling by the end of your overly exaggerated story,

The end of the night brings tranquility over the apartment, after presents are ripped open and everyone says their goodbyes, you’re left alone the twins, helping them clean the flat with quick flicks of your wand.

Your watch reads one thirty, you need to leave soon. Aleyna and Blaise hadn’t shown, which only means the proposal was a success. You want to go home and congratulate them, but also spend some time with Fred.

Fred himself is busy wiping pint glasses and lining them neatly in empty cupboards. The both of you keep stealing glances at each other, and it would have been more romantic if George would stop scoffing whenever Fred bashfully smiled in your direction.

“____.”

You hum in acknowledgment, watching Fred’s back shuffle as he washes the dishes.

“Thanks for giving a hand, you didn’t have to.” George smiles kindly, hands tucked in his pockets.

You smile back, “Oh it’s alright.”

“I just wanted to apologize.” he looks down, it isn’t the dorky shyness George casually sports at times, he looks sorrowful.

“For what?” you ask, lips lowering into a frown to match his.

“For being a git all those years back. I was young and a shit head. I’m sorry.” he sighs, leaning his shoulder on the wall.

You chuckle, just the familiar voice of George resurfaces pleasant memories you wished you never forgot. “It’s alright, I’m over it.”

“Really?” he raises a brow. “Because I wouldn’t forgive myself personally. Go on, give me a smack or something.”

“I’m not smacking you George.” you say, you make sure your tone sounds playful to put his mind at ease. “We all had our issues, I probably should have talked to you guys instead of just storming off. Partly my fault.”

George smiles, “It wasn’t your fault, but I’m glad you can forgive me.” He squeezes your shoulder in a way to reassure you, while it feels like he needs it more. You nod fondly.

“And about Eva, we didn’t really like her, y’know. She told us that you needed space, and that we should leave you alone. Just now realizing how rubbish it sounds.”

“Took you long enough.”

He chuckles again, much more genuine like you prefer and pushes himself off the wall. “I better get some sleep,” he glances at Fred, “leave you two alone. And ____, please don’t distance yourself.”

“I won’t.”

Your lie slips so easily.

It’s the welcoming silence that accepts your doubts with open arms - everything was happening overwhelmingly quick, or was it just your fear of being left alone again?

You smile at George when he retires to his room, it’s more of a constipated grimace but George seems to have bought it.

You take this time to finally think, let your protective walls analyse what the fuck happaned in the last five hours because it was too good to be true. Fred couldn’t simply love you that easily, after everything he did. It didn’t explain why he started dating Eva without consulting you first, or how he was with her that night after the Yule Ball. If he loved you this much, why would he bury himself between her legs, abandon you in the hollow halls of Hogwarts? Why would he believe her so easily?

“____.”

Even his voice sounds distant. You can’t tell if it’s him speaking or your past.

“____, darling.”

Nope, that’s definitely Fred. His frustratingly sexy cologne is mocking you like every other amazing aspect this man has.

“Huh?” you snap out of your thoughts. “Oh, yes hello.”

Fred tilts his head to the side, expression softening the moment you speak. “You okay? Something on your mind?”

You tentatively shake your head. Fred sighs and reaches out to stroke your head - you close your eyes but the feeling of his calloused hands never show.

Eyes fluttering open, you realize your fears are coming true. He’s going to tell you that he changed his mind, that he doesn't love you and this is all a big mistake.

“Sorry,” he breathes, cheeks alight. You hold in your breath, ready to face the truth.

Fred’s silent; he’s doing that thing again. The thing where he somehow magically thinks he can communicate with you without saying anything.

“Fred,” you sigh, and his face drops. “Why did you date Eva if you loved me so much?”

There, you asked it. Because if you hadn’t, it would haunt you for the rest of your days, crawl around your heart like an infectious disease. You have enough of those, you don’t want another.

Fred breathing sputters, he looks at you like you know the answer. “Because…it was the closest thing to you I could have. I know it sounds awful-“

“Yes it does, and stupid!”

“I know!” he exclaims. “I didn’t know how to cope, she gave me the affection I longed to get from you.”

Your eyes start to swell, the sentence should make you remotely happy but it doesn’t. “Why did you stay with her for so long?”

“Look.” Fred cups your face, breathing heavily. “Yes, at first it was because I was petty. I thought you were with someone else that bloody night, I was heartbroken and needed a distraction. She was the closest thing.”

“That doesn’t explain the rest-“

“Let me finish!” He sounds earnest, adamant on wiping all your doubts and replacing them with nothing but his love. If only it was that easy.

“I can’t do this tonight Fred-“

“Please just call me Freddie.” he whimpers, kissing your cheek harshly. He stands there, face close to yours like if he let go you would leave.

I“I’m tired, I have a headache and my feet hurt.” you’re crying, again. Nothing out of the ordinary considering you’ve been doing it damn well for the last eight years.

“Stay over the night, it’s late. I’ll make you some chamomile, you always loved chamomile. Please.” Fred begs, lips against your cheek and you can feel the wetness of his own tears. His forehead presses against your temple. “Don’t leave me again.”

Your heart aches, it’s the most painful kind of hurt you’ve been dreading to feel again after all these years. This was worse than the neglect of your parents, the pain that night in the Burrow caused, watching Fred introduce Eva to his mother. This was why you’ve been avoiding him.

Because this time you know what to do, you know what’s for the best and it takes all of the protection you’ve built for yourself to push Fred off. Now, there’s none. Now, you’re standing before him, vulnerable and all your emotions on display.

“Goodnight Fred, merry christmas.”

This time, the door you walk out of feels much smaller and suffocating.

————

It’s ironic how the weather matches your mood for six days.

Saturday; clear skies with a blizzard hidden beneath the clouds. Aleyna’s engagement celebration. Show up with puffy eyes enough to make you blind, sit through nice dinner without crying, eventually start crying when she shows you the ring, act like you’re crying because you’re happy, get snot all over Aleyna’s ring, walk home while the storm finally presents itself and tells you that you’re a miserable piece of shit.

Sunday; small flurry. Spend your day weeping quietly and eating leftover takeout while browsing through your tv cable. Eventually watch a romantic movie, weep more.

Monday; cloudy, soft breeze. Cry more, hug your slightly overweight cat and get dragged outside by Aleyna because she figures out that you didn’t sob in front of an entire restaurant because your best friend was getting married. Sit at her bar, drink beer and stuff your face with cornish pasties while you tell her what happened, until you eventually pass out.

Tuesday; cloudy and dark. Spend your day thinking if you’ll ever be loved again. Regretful, pained, hungover and miserably under caffeinated.

Wednesday; crazy fucking blizzard that catches you so off guard you forget you ruined you chances with Fred Weasley for a moment. Aleyna tells you how stupid you are, you realize how stupid you are, then find out Aleyna is more of a snake than she lets on because she lets you eat a whole pack of doughnuts and that amazing Shepherd’s Pie her mom makes.

Thursday; clear skies. Not a cloud in sight. Your head is unusually clear, maybe too clear because you forget to feed Jambo and take out the trash. You think about running back to the joke shop, tell Fred you love him and that you don’t give a shit about the past anymore. But you don’t.

And now it’s Friday. You’re sitting on your bed, Aleyna in your closet, flinging clothes at you for you to try on because she insists you go out. It’s been a week since you walked out on Fred, again, and perhaps made the biggest mistake of your life.

“Stop wasting away your pathetic life here and do it outside!” she yells, voice getting closer when she comes into view.

“Aleyna, I’m really not in the mood.” you dismiss, laying back on your bed. “I just, should I go to him?”

Aleyna groans, pained. “Merlin forbid, this is the millionth time you ask me. I tell you yes, you don’t do it.”

“What if he says it’s too late, and it is! I don’t deserve-“

“Shut up. Maybe it is, maybe it isn’t. What matters is that you need to at least try.”

You need to at least try. Aleyna’s voice echoes around your head after she leaves and you're back to your routine. Get up, brush your hair because the tangles bother you more than you let on, (and sometimes your teeth, if you feel like it.) then stay in your pyjamas all day while lazing around your apartment. You’ve started making coffee for yourself again, which is a small step but still encouraging. Plopping down on your couch, you sigh. Jambo follows, leaving fur floating around the air in his wake.

Love To Love You Baby by Donna Summers plays softly in the background, your magic radio is mocking you yet again on how single and sad you are. Especially after how long it has been since you’ve had sex. It’s painful, but you can’t help but think of Fred whenever you try to at least relieve some stress. Of course, this ends with you curled in a corner and crying, it’s frustrating how much he turns you on, and now knowing you can never have him-

Jambo’s loud meow reminds you that you haven’t brushed him today and you slowly get up, striding to the kitchen. You try to relax your mind but your chest feels even tighter with your effort. Your house is an organized mess, you didn’t bother cleaning up throughout the stages of your grief.

You should talk to him. You should go outside, get fresh air, make out a game plan and at least talk to him. Fred’s kind, the funniest, most lovingly stubborn man you’ve ever met. He doesn’t deserve what you’re putting him through. You don’t want to leave things so bittersweet again, you want to keep seeing George, even Fred if time allows.

The pain of your past doesn’t allow you to follow your desires. You hate yourself for it and it’s only a matter of time before you break and go back to your old, quiet self. It’s as if the past got your wrists on lock, holding you back whenever you try to sprint free and love again. You thought Fred would have unlocked the chains and swept you away, but that was before you decided that he shouldn’t.

Gripping the fur comb on your left hand, Jambo watches you walk over to him with big eyes. He looks triumphant, lying on his chubby stomach and readying himself for the brush of his three year life.

Knock Knock

Perhaps this is why Jambo hates Aleyna. You chuckle. “Sorry Bo, give me a minute. She probably forgot her coat again.”

You put down the comb and rush over to the door. Not bothering to check through the peephole, you fling the door open while laughing. “Forgot your condoms or some-“

By the look Fred gives you, you’d think he hits it raw.

“Fred.” you whisper, frozen with your hand gripped on the handle.

He looks haggard, eye bags under his eyes with slightly damp hair sticking out obscenely from the sides. It looks longer, or perhaps it's the way he quickly runs a hand through it and smooths it back. You probably look no different, yet Fred still looks unfairly handsome, eyes dripping with honey and curved bottom lip tucked between his teeth.

Your heart hammers in your chest as you take in his appearance. He’s wearing a simple black pullover with a pea coat messily tucking in the material of his hoodie. You can see the after effects of the snow outside visible on his grey sweatpants, you can’t tell if he came to your house straight after working out for…however long he works out to have thighs like that.

“Can I-“ he gives you a look over and you blush. There’s a hundred different things you want to say, and you merely stay quiet and look at him with hopeful eyes. Coward. “Can I come in?”

You step aside wordlessly. He takes one, big step and he’s inside. Cursing his giant legs, you close the door behind him.

“Wow,” he clears his throat, looking around your apartment. “Nice place.”

“Thank you.”

Fred’s hand twitches when he hears your voice, as if he hadn’t heard it since he was a child. As if he was hearing it for the first time.

As soon as he steps in, his cologne engulfs the air around him - as if he’s marking himself in your house and leaving his delicious after taste. You would tell him he smells amazing but the air between you is too tense to say anything but;

“Fred I-“

“I wanted to-“

Fred breaks out into a smile, and you follow. It looks like a grimace, a hopeful one though. “I wanted to apologize.”

Your heart swells. You know it shouldn’t, because you don’t deserve an apology but the fact that he thought of you makes you feel like you have another chance. Of course you do, the poor man walked over to your house in the middle of a snowstorm. There’s got to be something there, right?

“Fred,-“

“No, let me finish this time.”

You stay silent.

“Been trying to think of the right ruddy words to say this past week but fuck that.” he growls, shrugging off his coat when you offer. “I’m not waiting any bloody longer.”

“I admit that at some point,” he starts, taking a deep breath. “I had feelings for Eva. That’s why I didn’t break up with her. It was well after three months of us dating and I thought I moved on.” you usher him to sit down, quickly following behind. Your legs feel wobbly as he continues.

“That’s why I didn’t break up with her, and I won’t deny that what I had with her was nice, but it wasn’t you. No one ever compared to you ____. I was fine until you decided to stop being our friend.”

“I didn’t decide that, It was something I had to do.” you defend fiercely, sitting next to him on the bar stool of your kitchen island. Damn rich apartments.

“I know that now, but at that time I thought you hated me. I clung onto Eva because I thought - seeing as she was your childhood friend - we’d be friends again.”

You scoff. “Look how that turned out.”

Fred raises a brow.

“Sorry, continue.”

“I started getting over it until that summer happened. It killed me to see you again, that’s when I realized I could never stop loving you. I blamed myself for everything, for fucking up all my chances even though I-“

You put a hand on his shoulder, “Freddie, you didn’t do anything wrong.”

Fred pauses, squeezes your hand and gives you a wide, hopeful smile that punches you right in the heart. His head dips down to rest on your shoulder and he sighs. “You called me Freddie.”

“I did.” you smile.

“I wanted to talk to you, but you kept avoiding me. With the war and everything I just couldn’t, especially after that near death thing.”

“Near what?” You gasp.

Fred chuckles, as if it was no big deal. It makes your chest ache. “I got trapped under a wall, Georgie saved me. Owe him my bloody life. Took me sometime to get over it though, those were the times I needed someone the most.” he takes a deep breath before continuing.

“It was around those times that I found out Eva cheated on me. She was acting dodgy the past few months, and I feel awful for feeling relieved when we broke up.”

“But, that’s not your fault.” you sigh, hand caressing his back gently. He relaxes at your touch and a smile tugs at your lip at this. “You don’t owe Eva a damn thing. It’s okay to feel like that, because I do.”

Fred laughs, a small melodic sound that brings you pride that you pulled it out of him. “Oh, is that how it works now?”

“Yep, I said so.” you give him a toothy grin, and he chuckles, further causing your ruin.

But you can’t let things get too comfortable, not before you’re completely honest with him. Here he is, vulnerable and open, telling you his entire life story and you sure as hell are going to do the same - minus some embarrassing parts.

“Do you,” you clear your throat, awkwardly shuffling on your stool. The seat is uncomfortable and it makes everything all the more frustrating. “Do you want to know what I was thinking before you showed up?”

Fred pauses, gaze lingering over your face attentively. Breath catching, you let him look at you. Directly, fully look at you. He flushes, quickly hidden away by his hand when he nods his head slowly and leans on his palm.

“I was thinking of you.”

“Oh?”

“Yeah, I was thinking if I should just go to you myself.”

Fred takes a quick breath. Shuddering because of the cold, surely, his tone is soft and barely above a whisper. “Why didn’t you?”

“I was scared you’d reject me. I was going to apologize to you, get on my knees and beg for forgiveness until you gave me a second chance.”

“Oh.”

You let him grasp your chin and turn your face towards his, he lovingly strokes your cheek, long finger somehow reaching easily. “I’m sorry Freddie, I love you.”

“I’ve waited to hear those words for so long.” his chest heaves when he responds.

“Well, how much of a let down is it?” you smile, nuzzling your hand in his palm.

He leans in and presses a kiss to your forehead, then to your cheek. “Let down?” he tells you, as if he heard the most obscene thing. “It’s so much better than I could have imagined, and I’m sorry too. I hate myself for letting you go through so much pain on your own. If I wasn’t such a clueless git I could’ve done this much earlier.”

“Do what?”

Fred kisses you. It’s not urgent, nor wanton, it’s soft and tender that still leaves you breathless. He leans his forehead against yours, and you ruin the kiss by smiling but he couldn’t care less. Opening your mouth, you let him flick your tongues together until it’s a sloppy, needy mess.

He groans, and that’s when you know the kiss progressed much too far to stop now. The needy ache between your legs pushes you to hover yourself over him, and his strong arms grasp you by the waist. His lips aren’t a perfect fit, it makes the kiss all the more pleasurable and it’s until he’s slowly walking towards your bedroom with your legs tucked around his hips that you break away.

“Fred,” you sigh when he sets you down against a wall. “I want you.”

He frowns, “It’s Freddie, how many times-“ he gathers your knee in one hand and pushes his crotch against your center with a grunt. “Do I have to tell you?”

You barely respond, clawing at his back. The curve of his thick cock gradually growing, his thighs encasing around your legs feels too damn good and you don’t know how long until you’re fully at his mercy. Fred roughly rolls his hips, a deep grumble leaving him and the stimulation is enough to make you whine. “Again,” you rock your pervis.

“Oh yeah?” he smirks, humping you harder. “You like this? How much? Let me feel.”

You rut against him desperately, trying to get off on the friction Fred barely decides to provide.

True to his word, Fred kisses you again with a groan, this time sparing you no tenderness and sucking on your bottom lip until it throbs. His hips continue to rut all the while his free hand slithers down your clavicle, down the sides of your waist - he makes sure to spread his palm wide to feel you everywhere - until he teasingly snaps the band of your pyjama bottoms. You yelp, relishing in his moans.

“If you like it so much- well shit.” his eyes flutter shut the moment he feels your slick from your underwear. “My love, you’re so wet that I bet I can taste you through your panties.”

If you weren’t wearing your yellow duck polka dot panties this would have been more sexier, and it takes Fred talking about eating you out to realize - oh my god, you’re wearing your duck panties.

“Fred, don-“

Fred has already pushed your bottoms down, revealing the abomination and further causing your face to feel hotter.

“Oh?” he smirks. “Sexy lingerie, all for me?”

You groan, hiding your face in his shoulder while he laughs at you. You feel his chest bob, and you can’t help but giggle alongside him.

“Now, strip.” he commands, and all the humor in the situation vanishes in an instant.

He lets go of your knee and you easily slip out of your bottoms, then slowly said polka dot panties. He grips your thighs, hoisting you up on his hips again and before you know it, he’s stumbling into your room.

His hand is cupping the back of your head, somehow gone there the moments he walked. You wouldn’t know, it’s hard to concentrate on anything else when the heat of his cock between your thighs feels like that.

Fred deposits you on the messily scattered forest you call your bed, and the smell of linen mixed with his cologne is enough for you to grind your hips on nothing.

Fred tuts, pushing a palm flat on your hip. He trails his hand between your legs and palms your pussy, bare. “Babe, you’re dripping. Since how long?”

You whine, “Since the moment you walked through - ah, my door.”

Fred’s eyes glaze over with nothing but dangerous greed. Dipping his knee on the mattress, he manhandles you into submission. “You think you can just get away with saying shit like that?” he groans, eyes fixating on wherever it lands on your body. It’s like he’s trying to take it all in, overwhelmed yet still wanton.

He shuffles to sit against your headboard and pats his large thigh, you waste no time crawling towards him. He quickly grabs your waist before you can approach him. Pulling you against him with your knees propped between his thighs, he’s face to face with your pussy and drooling.

“Such a sweet, pretty cunt.” he breathes, gently kissing your clit. You cry out, knees buckling but Fred’s large palms are flat on your ass and adamant on keeping you up and against his lips. Your center throbs, this is all you have ever wanted - the both of you have ever wanted and Fred has the audacity to tease.

“I know, I know.” He gently sushes. “I need to,” his head leans on your abdomen, desperate. “Need to get you ready for my cock.”

You barely nod, Fred seems to be in battle with himself. You don’t know which side wins, until he starts to suckle your clit with continuous, obscene kissing noises. You grip his shoulder, body bending in half. It feels so good, too good that you can’t hold straight. “Please - Fred,”

Gasping, your pelvis rocks forward. He keeps you still with his muscles digging in your hips, ass, back - everywhere he’s desperately roaming and memorizing.

His tongue finally darts forward - you knew that goddam tongue would be what did it - you nearly collapse, melting forward. It’s wet and warm and god - almost what you imagine his dick might feel like if it ever prods at your entrance.

He’s licking with bold, textured strokes. Your thighs are quivering, it’s the sudden brush of pleasure that meets your cunt every other second that causes this.

“Shit,” Fred pulls back, one hand holding your thighs wider. His thumb circles around your entrance and you cry out in pleasure. “My balls feel so fucking tight ____. If I keep this up, I might just come before I can put my dick in you.”

“Then - ahh Freddie!”

“Don’t get mouthy with me.” he smirks, sliding a finger inside. “I knew what you were gonna say before you opened that sweet mouth of yours.”

He fucks you like this, wet squelching noise mixing with your pants and moans. Working you open, Fred curls a finger inside and your thighs finally give out. “Merlin, you’re gonna get it,” he gives you a sweet kiss on the stomach. “I’m just as desperate to fuck you. Look,”

You do look, very gladly at that. He adds a second finger the moment your eyes fall on the wet patch of his bottoms. He’s rutting against nothing, all the while scissoring his fingers inside you - and from the look he gives you, you know he’s imagining what it's like to be inside you.

“Fred!” you gasp, rocking faster until your legs start to jerk and twitch. You don’t want to come yet, want to savor the way Fred’s fucking you with nothing but two fingers and it’s better than any sex you’ve had.

Your arousal pools between his fingers, dripping down his bracelet adorned wrist, all the way down to his veiny forearms. It’s a sight for sore eyes, Fred watches in a trance, gaze half lidded. You can see his cock twitch in his pants and he moans, “Fucking hell babe, look at the mess you’ve made.”

His thumb presses against your center with his two other fingers working, and he roughly drags it over to your clit to press. He’s licking again, slurping noises mixing with the pats of his tongue quickly dragging across your pussy.

That does it. Whining, and with quick breaths you hurtle towards such an intense orgasm that you swear you see Santa himself and his jingle fucking bells. It’s sudden and weakening, you barely register. Fred’s there all the while, desperately licking every drop of his hard work until there’s nothing. He groans and moans, like he’s having his thanksgiving now.

He’s not like a starved man, or any other cliche line you can think of. No, it’s like he has made a deal with the devil and is captured by the dark vitality of greed. He can’t stop, and merlin, do you not want him to.

“That was,” you breathe, taking a seat on his thigh when he allows.“That was the best orgasm I’ve had.”

“And that was the most gorgeous sight I have ever seen.” Fred smiles, it slowly turns into a smirk. The cocky bastard is way too proud of himself. He should be though, it’s been a while since you’ve had sex - if it always felt like this you would have never stopped.

But you know it never feels this good. No, it’s because of Fred. It’s him, and how much you love him, and how attractive he is - how skilled, amazing, passionate of a man he is. He’s perfect and way out of your league but you don’t care because he’s finally yours.

Said man is breaking out in a sappy grin, kissing your lips sweetly to whisper against them. “Get used to it.” He kisses you again. “I’m going to make you come again, and again, and again until you can’t walk.” he’s lowering you down onto your back, hands caressing your thighs.

“Really?”

“Especially now that I know how sweet and tight you are,“ Fred runs a finger through your pussy and you whimper. “How amazing you smell,” he dips down to lazily suck a hickey on your collarbone. “How soft your skin is,” his hands are lifting your waist up to unhook your bra. “How much I’m in love with you.”

Your gaze softens, and you let him undress you, bra after shirt until you’re left bare beneath. He shivers, his eyes are darting everywhere, to the curve of your hips, up your stomach - and finally, the slope of your breasts. He sucks in a breath. “You,” he rasps. “You had this bikini, that summer.”

“Wha- which one?”

“The white one.”

Your eyes widen. “Oh.”

“We all loved that bikini, especially the days when the lake was particularly cold. Your nipples would be crystal fucking clear.”

You should feel embarrassed, fuck you really should but you knew what you were doing when you bought that bikini. That doesn’t stop you from acting clueless though, “Fred you big oa - oh!”

Fred dips to suck on your nipples, mouth wide open and hungry. “From that day onward, I fucking knew your tits were amazing.” he groans, gazing at them for a moment. “ Shit, was I right.”

You feel his clothed cock rub against you as he speaks - and it finally becomes a problem.

“A-ah, Fred. Clothes,” you barely gesture, though Fred understands you quickly. Sitting back on his heels, he swiftly removes his hoodie overhead.

Of course he isn’t wearing anything underneath.

Of course he has abs.

You curse under your breath - Fred’s chest is well defined, as you expected it to be. Well toned pecs, pert nipples hard and on display, golden skin stretching over his abdomen and six pairs of muscles you’d like to mark. He’s lean yet buff, corded well with muscle and now you know where those enthusiastic years of Quidditch have gone into

You reach for his arm, Fred quickly obliges and lets you guide his palm flat on your body. You breathe heavily - you love how you're he’s feeling you up like this. His hand lands on your breast, and he gives it a rough squeeze before rolling off the bed to get out of his bottoms.

“Are you trying to kill me, doing that? Huh?” he rasps, stumbling slightly. He swings his socks somewhere and gets back on the bed. “Is that what you want?”

When you don’t respond, he chuckles. Slowly, he pushes down his boxer briefs. It’s teasing, this motion. But then again, everything about Fred Weasley is.

His cock slaps against his abdomen - that’s how big it is. You feel yourself salivate, pupils expanding at the thought of such a thick, attractive cock inside you. You almost jump forward and sit on it but when you see the angry red color of his cock, the twitching of his head and the pre-cum that drips, it becomes clear how much he has been holding back.

Fred grips his cock and the head gushes slightly, you feel your cunt flutter. “Come here.”

You let him grip your body and settle you on his lap, entrance inches away from the head of his cock. You’re making eye contact, it’s almost intimidating how intense his gaze is. On your heat, breasts and fucked out face. “Merlin, I’ve been dreaming about this for fucking years. Let me,” he breathes. “I should just take a picture and stare at it all day.”

“Why take a picture when you have the real thing.” you smirk slightly.

Fred groans, “Ohh, you’re such a good girl.”

You smile, “Freddie, please get a condom. Flattery won’t get you that far.”

“Damn it.” he smiles jokingly, reaching for your night stand.

“Wait, shit.” you get off his lap and down your bed, legs wobbling a bit as you stride towards your dresser with hurried steps. Fred whines when you leave but you pay him no mind. “Been a while, here.”

Grabbing the pack, you stumble back on the bed and sit on your knees.

“Well, what are you waiting for?” Fred nods his head. “Put it on, baby.”

You rip the packet open and slowly roll it on him, his cock is already wet and glistening enough for it to be quick. Your center pulses with want as you do this.

Fred pushes you down and crawls on top, centering his cock with your entrance. “No more,” he grunts. “Gotta have you now.”

Gasping, you feel him rub against you. He continues to tease, until the tip of his cock finally pushes past.

You cry out and glance down at where his cock bulges, it’s a type of pain you’d love to feel everyday. “A-ah Fred!”

“I know baby,” he whines, pushing further in with a quick thrust. He strokes slowly to work you open. You cry out, arousal gushing out.

“Such a sweet pussy, taking all my cock so well.” he kisses your jaw, feathering his lips around your throat and lazily sucking. “Feel so good.”

It’s true, it feels so fucking good that you can’t hold in your moans anymore. Not that you were trying to, but the desire to chant his name becomes reality when he rolls his hips against your center. He’s so close to bottoming out and the woozy cloud floating in your head grows. “Oh my god, don’t want you to stop.”

The stretch feels so good that you can’t help but clench around him, pain jerking your hips up.

Fred's balls deep in, his chest heaves and his eyes squeeze shut for a moment. He pauses, letting the two of you adjust to the euphoric feeling of his cock inside. ”Why the fuck would I wan’t to stop?” Your insides are throbbing, and you find yourself arching your back every time he gives you a sweet kiss on your chest. “Why would I ever stop. Shit, baby, I love you.”

“I love you too - oh!”

Fred withdraws, then slams into you with such vigour that you scream. Another shameful flow of your juices gush out as pleasure rips through you. He continues this, another harsh thrust into your cunt that makes you arch in pleasure. “Freddie!”

“Just like that.” he grunts, rolling his hips. “Love when you call me that.”

His hand hooks your leg around his waist, and he speeds up his motion, soothing the needy ache you feel.

lt’s dizzying, how good he can make you feel. Like you’re the center of the universe and all that matters is Fred fucking you open with sweet, yet untetheredly rough thrusts. It’s scary how lost you can get in him, and it becomes haunted when he captures your lips in a kiss and lifts your leg up on his shoulder.

“You’re so tight, oh fucking hell. Look at you, my goodness you’re absolutely perfect.” he murmurs against your lips, muting your moans.

“Fred! Oh god - ah!”

Your cries egg him on, he’s ruthless with the way his fingers dig in your ass to slam into you faster. The angle, his thick cock, how he’s biting down on your lower lip, you can barely take in. You feel helplessly at his mercy, and soon he’s fucking you too hard to keep kissing. “Easy, baby,” he coos when you squirm underneath him. “I’ve got you - my sweet little flower. Feel good?”

The question itself is clearly hysterical, your pleasure is etched on to your face and your thighs quiver underneath him. His mouth hangs open, eyes droopy, yet he still wears that infuriatingly attractive smirk. “Yes! Feel so good - ah you cocky bastar - umpfh!”

He drapes your other leg over his shoulder, your breasts bounce as his thrust turns more languid. Your back arches, mouth hanging open. “Oh my god - Fred!”

It feels so fucking good like this, so deep and good and - fuck, everything else other than him becomes a distant memory.

“Ahh - shit baby. Doing so good,” he grunts, his moans turn more high pitched when you meet his thrusts halfways. “Drown me baby, my flower takes me so well,”

Fred’s hand curls around the mattress as his other grips your thigh. He slams into you, stretching you out so good that your orgasm builds rapidly within. With your legs draped over his shoulder, he bends forward further until he’s sucking in your chest and leaving red marks. “OH - Freddie,” you whine, clawing at his back.

“That’s it my love,” he croons, head thrown back yet still adamant on watching you. His hands tangle in your hair, carding through and gripping them hard. “Come on my cock - make a mess of your sheets. Doing so well for me, wanna feel you clench around me.”

His face contorts in pleasure when your cunt does clench, hair draping over his eyes to cover his glazed, blown out pupils. Fred reaches between your legs to sweetly thumb your clit, squeezing it between two fingers and it’s the final straw until you break.

You arch in pleasure, shuddering violently underneath him. Fred’s letting you ride it out, finally gasping and his hands clench around your thigh and the mattress. Your hand finds his, interlacing your fingers together as you messily grind your hips and finally come down. Ropes of hot cum fill the condom around your sensitive walls. You tighten, aching a little from the warmth that you can’t feel directly from the plastic barrier.

Fred collapses on top with panting breaths. His head rests in the crook of your neck, arms wrapped tightly around your waist.

“Well shit.”

“Yeah.” you chuckle breathily. The post orgasm clarity makes you realize; fuck, I love this man way more than I let on. You suddenly feel the need to show him, and yet you settle for tenderly brushing his hair back when he lifts his head.

Fred smiles, grin lazy and sappy. After pecking your lips, he slowly pulls out. You whine from the sudden coldness when he rolls out of your arms, then he grins at your noise of distress.

“Hold on love, be right back.” Fred pulls off his condom, ties the top and tosses it to the trash before collapsing next to you - way more dramatically. His arm drapes over you, pulling you to his chest and pressing a kiss on your forehead. “I love you.”

You sigh, content. “Love you too,” you smirk. “Would love you more if you cleaned me up.”

Fred’s eyes flash dangerously. “Oh?”

“Not like that you idiot!” you smile, gently slapping his chest. “Swish your wand or something, I don’t wanna get up.”

“Hm,” he taps his chin. “Give me a tour of your apartment and I’ll think about it.”

You sigh, propping yourself on your arms. Fred whines and tries to pull you back in but you don’t relent. “Alright alright.”

Rolling off the bed, you rush to the bathroom, ignoring the pulsing soreness in your core. “Wha - come back! What about my tour?” Fred yells after you.

You laugh at his eagerness. “You’re not getting it!”

After cleaning yourself up, you practically hurl yourself in his arms. Fred catches you with something between a grunt and a chuckle, leaning against the headboard and letting you rest your head on his chest. Your eyes lull around, begging to give into your exhaustion. “Close your eyes, flower,” he whispers sweetly, gently running his hands across your hair and massaging your scalp.

The snowstorm outside has gotten intense, the wind howls against your sealed windows yet the world feels much brighter from this morning. It’s hard to focus on anything besides the way your heart flutters, and the feel of Fred beneath you. Snuggling closer, his fingers gently trace around your shoulders.

“Freddie?” you murmur, cheek pressed against his chest.

He hums in response.

“You’re staying over, right?”

Fred peers down at you, his brows are etched together and the concern on his face nearly makes you sob. “Do…do you not want me to?” he answers shakily.

You let out a breath. “Of course I want you to!”

“Good.” he smiles, letting out a bigger breath than you. For a moment, you think you broke the man. “Because you’re not getting rid of me anytime soon.”

[scrabble-scribbles]

Kinktober Day 20

20 day mark hoes.

This is a unlabeled way in the past time. Nancy’s a noblewoman, part of a really important family who has like, so much emphasis on being morally upright and godly. Nancy is also a big fat homosexual so as you can imagine there is dramaaaaaa and also pining and angst and then some fluff

oh ya theres smut too but not a lot a lot?

Prompt: jesus sauce AU

Pairing: Robin Buckley x Nancy Wheeler

Fandom: Stranger Things

--

It’s her most dangerous secret, the only one that could ruin her, ruin her family. She knows she should stop, never even look her way again, but for some reason, Nancy can’t stop going back to her.

Her, being Robin Buckley, the farmer’s daughter, one of the most genuine and caring people Nancy had ever met. 

In the hayloft of the Buckley barn, Robin makes her feel so safe and special and wanted. Robin makes her feel loved, loved in a way she’s never been loved before. 

Robin’s hands were in her hair, strong and calloused from years working on the farm, her lips were against Nancy’s, sending fire down her spine. And Robin’s body is pressed against hers, pushing her back against the wall of the barn, as she kisses Nancy filthy.

Nancy’s own hands are curled in the back of the farmer’s shirt, pressing her impossibly closer. Robin pulled back to let them catch their breath, and her cheeks are flushed bright red.

It’s so adorable that Nancy can barely breathe.

The brief lull in their kissing gave Nancy’s brain a moment to catch up, and her fists tightened in Robin’s shirt.

“This is wrong,” she whispered, releasing her grip on Robin’s shirt, hands tucking against her chest. “Robin, this is so-“

She’s cut off by a gentle kiss, one so soft its barely the faintest brush of skin against skin. Nancy melted back into her touch, one hand resting on Robin’s chest, the other curling around the nape of her neck. 

“Does this feel wrong to you?” Robin asked. “Because it feels so right for me.”

It did feel right, so much more than any other relationship she’d ever had. None of her previous lovers could even come close to how Robin made her feel, none of them had ever made her want in this way.

Robin took her silence as a yes, and kissed the tip of her nose, across her cheeks and forehead. Nancy sighed into the touches, letting Robin move down her jaw, over her neck. The barest hint of teeth scraping over her skin made her shiver, and press Robin’s mouth closer.

As Robin is kissing her, her hands were moving from her hair, down to her back, until they’re anchored on her waist. Robin squeezed, and the gasp that came from Nancy’s throat had the taller woman smiling against her neck.

Heat bloomed in her stomach from that touch, one very familiar to her. 

“Ok?” Robin asked, and Nancy just nodded, tangling her hands in the short hair, and pressing her mouth back to her skin. Robin was all too willing to comply, and she went back to her task of kissing every inch of Nancy’s neck.

Nancy’s stomach tightened when Robin’s lips moved over a spot on her neck that made her shiver. The farmer noticed, and did it again, this time pulling a soft moan from her.

The heat in between her legs kept building with each second Robin was on her until she couldn’t take it anymore.

“Robin,” she moaned out, gripping her hair tighter. “Robin, please.”

Robin didn’t say a word, but her hands moved to unlace the trousers Nancy had worn here, part of the disguise she’d pulled together to hide where she was from. 

Fingers brushed over her center through her underclothes, and she whimpered, grinding down into the touch.

Pleasure ripped up her spine from the friction, and she moaned, loud enough that Robin had to muffle her sounds with her own mouth.

“Gotta be quiet, Nance,” she whispered, then pressed hard against Nancy’s clit.

She hid her face in Robin’s chest to muffle her cries, and Robin’s mouth went back to her neck, to the sensitive spot right behind her ear, tugging on her earlobe as she went. All the while, grinding her hand up against Nancy, making her brain go fuzzy with lust.

“Oh my god, Robin,” she whimpered, and grabbed the farmer’s hips to press their bodies closer together. Through the fuzz in her brain, she could feel Robin’s hips rolling forward, slow enough that the farmer didn’t even notice she was doing it.

Nancy slipped a hand down the front of her pants, and this time Robin was the one muffling her sounds, pressing her face against Nancy’s neck. 

“Oh god,” she moaned, rolling her hips down into Nancy’s hand. Nancy’s fingers quickly found her clit, working her up the same way Robin was doing for her.

They kissed, hot and heavy, muffling their moans and whimpers into each other’s mouths. When Robin’s fingers pushed her underclothes to the side and pressed two fingers deep inside her, Nancy’s legs nearly buckled.

“Easy, Nance,” Robin said, voice strained as she fought through her own need to hold the shorter woman up. Nancy wrapped her free arm around Robin’s shoulders, and Robin planted her hand on the wall to hold the both of them up.

Those fingers pressed deeper, curling against her sweet spot, and Nancy’s vision whited out. She couldn’t think past the delicious stretch, the two fingers thrusting in and out of her, each thrust pressing against the spot that made her lips tremble and knees shake.

Robin was clearly in the same boat as her, flushed from the tips of her ears down her chest, whining as Nancy rubbed over her clit.

“So close,” she forced out, clenching around Robin’s fingers.

“Me too, pretty girl,” Robin gasped. “Keep going.”

Robin’s fingers curled against her sweet spot again, and her thumb pressed down on her clit.

Nancy’s entire body jerked, spasming as she came, bowing over herself as she rode out her orgasm on Robin’s hand. 

Through the fog of lust, she heard the throaty little moans Robin made when she was close to cumming, and rubbed harder at her clit to push her over the edge. 

Both of them came down at the same time, Robin lowering the both of them to the floor, cradling Nancy in her arms, nuzzling into her hair, rubbing down her back and over her arms.

Nancy felt warm in a way she rarely did, and tucked her head so she was under Robin’s chin, sighing deeply as the last tremors faded.

They sat like that for a while, neither speaking, just taking comfort in the other’s presence. 

She felt so warm, so safe in Robin’s arms. But something else was curling in her stomach, a feeling that she recognized too well, one that made her pull back from Robin’s embrace.

The farmer looked down at her, and the concern in her eyes just made Nancy want to cry.

“Is everything ok?” She asked, head tilted to the side like a puppy. “Are you ok? Did I do something wrong?”

“No,” she said, brushing her hand over Robin’s jaw. The farmer’s eyes closed, and she leaned into the touch like Nancy’s hand was fire after a long day spent in the snow. 

“You didn’t do anything,” Nancy said. “I shouldn’t be here.”

Those crystal blue eyes locked with hers, and Robin shook her head.

“Nancy, you aren’t doing anything wrong,” she said, but Nancy wasn’t listening.

“This could ruin my family, God, I can’t believe I’m doing this again, what was I thi-“

“Nancy, please stop,” Robin said. She looked so close to crying it made Nancy’s heart ache. “Please, don’t say that, not now.”

“Robin,” she whispered, cupping the other woman’s jaw. Robin flinched back, almost like she’d been burned. 

That cut Nancy deeper than anything else had.

“You-you don’t get to do that,” she forced out. “Nance, don’t get to come here and play with my heart like that.”

“I’m not trying to, but Robin-“ she tried to explain, but Robin cut her off.

“No, I’m talking, you need to listen to me!” Robin had pulled away, almost like she wanted to be as far from Nancy as possible. She got to her feet, wrapping her arms around herself. “You tell me you want me, that I make you feel loved and wanted, and then do this.” She gestured around them, still backing away.

“I thought I was a monster, Nancy,” she whispered, and now Nancy saw the tears brimming in those blue eyes, and she felt gutted. “My whole life, I’d been told feeling like this was a sin, that the Devil was going to drag me to Hell for what I wanted, how I felt.” Robin leaned over the railing, knuckles white as she held onto the wood. “And I would try, so hard, to like a man, to find someone who could fix me, and prayed and prayed that these feelings would go away.” Robin was crying now, tears falling down her cheeks.

“But then you came into my life,” she said. “And you were so, so, so, radiant, and I never thought a royal would even look at me, but you did, Nancy. You looked. And you actually saw me.”

“And I thought I was wrong, I was evil, for who I was, but you were like me, and you didn’t hate me,” Robin said. “You made me feel like I was normal, like I wasn’t a monster. And you make me feel like I’m worthy of love.”

That word. That one word that had been the center of Nancy’s life the past two years. From her father, telling her to settle down with a noble who will make their family stronger, that love will come after they’re married. From her mother, who would force her to sit in rooms with those men, for hours on end, promising her that she would find one she could love. 

And from Robin. Robin, who she never should have noticed, who was so far below Nancy’s status that simply speaking to one another was wrong. 

Robin, who was the only one who’d ever wanted Nancy. Not the Nancy that came with a dowry big enough to last a lifetime, or the Nancy that would give them more power. Just Nancy, just her. 

And she couldn’t even give Robin that.

Nancy got up, her legs shaking beneath her, and she moved closer to Robin. She didn’t reach out to comfort her, she didn’t deserve to feel the warmth of her skin.

“Every time you leave, it’s like my heart’s being ripped out,” Robin whispered, and her voice was so broken, so hurt, it was almost a physical blow to Nancy’s chest. “I’ve given you my heart, Nancy. But you still won’t even let me touch yours.”

It was a love confession, a desperate plea for something, the plea of a starving man who just wanted a scrap of food. 

Robin was begging her for love, for affection, for her. It was Robin laying her heart out for Nancy to see, cracking open her ribs and cutting away skin, making herself bare before Nancy like she was some angel. 

It was a death sentence, her confession. Robin knew it, same as Nancy. This couldn’t exist, it never should have gone beyond that first glance, but Nancy was still here, two years later, her own heart feeling like it had been ripped from her chest. And it had always been Robin who’d done this to her, never anyone else. 

Robin, who made her heart flutter with just a smile. Robin, who made her laugh when she wanted to cry.

Robin, who’d had her heart since that first meeting, and had never even known it.

She placed a hand on Robin’s wrist, light enough that the other woman could pull away if she wanted.

She didn’t.

“Robin,” Nancy said, and she hated herself for the way Robin flinched, like she was readying herself for a blow. 

“Robin,” she said again, this time cupping her jaw, tilting her head so she could see her face. “Please.”

And Robin looked at her, and Nancy wished she had never been born, just so she wouldn’t have been the reason Robin’s eyes were dull, angry, scared. 

Heartbroken.

She moved Robin’s hand from the railing, and pressed it to her chest. Robin’s eyes darted down to her hand, then back up to her eyes.

Nancy pressed her hand closer to her body, covering it with both of hers. 

“You have my heart, Robin,” she said. “You’ve had my heart since I laid eyes on you. And I’m sorry I never told you that.”

Robin was staring at her now, eyes wide with shock. Nancy took that as a reason to keep talking.

“You’ve had my heart since the first time you made me laugh, since the first time you held me,” she said. “Robin, it’s always been you. And I’m sorry I let my fear get in the way of you knowing that.”

The shock had transformed into wonder, almost like she was doubting her own ears, doubting that Nancy was even in front of her. 

“You have my heart, Robin Buckley,” Nancy said, something desperate twisting in her chest. “You. No one else. Just you.”

Robin’s lips crashed against Nancy’s, and the shorter woman melted into the embrace. Their arms wrapped around each other, squeezing tighter and tighter, until they had to break apart to breathe.

She rested their foreheads against the other, breathing heavily to catch her breath. Robin’s eyes were squeezed shut, like she was afraid to open them and see Nancy was gone.

“Hey,” she said, brushing her fingers over Robin’s lips. “I’m here.”

Those gorgeous blues opened, and locked onto hers. 

“We’re here,” Robin said. “Us. Just us.

Nancy smiled, and leaned in to kiss her again.

“Yeah,” she said.

Just us.

[jessikahathaway]

Baby Talk - Part II

Pairing: Jikook X Reader (Jimin X Reader X Jungkook)

Genre: Surrogacy!AU, Polyamorous!AU, Romance. (Future Smut)

Warnings: Profanity, medical procedures, pining (Like a stupid amount but what can ya do), Joon and Jin get protective, mentions of pregnancy symptoms. (If I forgot anything please let me know!)

Words: 10.5k (I guess I'm committing to long chapters lol)

You’d hit the four week mark, and not much had happened yet.

Despite you feeling like your hormones were on a swing.

Jimin was bewildered when he came into the bathroom to find you crying on the floor. Trying to comfort you went downhill quickly because soon you were mad that he was joking around. Then you were crying again, apologizing for being so harsh.

Up and down and up and down.

But they never got mad at you. Never yelled at you and never ignored you. But you forced your emotions down deep into your heart. A place that would be locked and the key thrown away. Because you knew what was happening, and it simply couldn’t happen.

It was late and you could feel your stomach begging for something to eat. You’d gotten really hungry lately, no doubt your body trying to accommodate for the new life you were growing inside of you.

So, you hurried to the kitchen under the guise of night and made some rice and a little bit of stir fry. You put together everything, making sure not to make too much, and started cooking.

It was around three in the morning when you sat down at the table and ate your food, looking through your phone with a bored expression. Nothing interesting on social media and YouTube videos were only entertaining for so long. So, you ate your food and cleaned up before starting to head back towards your room.

Then, a large flash went off in the sky, causing you to jolt and look out into the city. Rain was pelting against the window, sounding sharp to your ears. It was a little intimidating.

Then the loud crash of thunder rang through the house.

You yelped at the noise, covering your ears in fear. You’d never particularly liked thunderstorms, but this one was coming in hot and aggressive. You pulled your hands away from your ears, just trying to focus on getting back to your room when another flash lit up the room. Your heart was hammering in your chest and you started to sweat.

Before you could think too much about it you were knocking on Jungkook and Jimin’s door. Another crash of thunder roared through the house and you swear you felt the floor shake. You whimpered in fear and fidgeted with the hem of your shirt. Did they hear you? Or was the storm too loud? Should you go in? What if they weren’t decent?

Jimin had said you could go in if something was wrong...

But did being scared of a thunderstorm count?

FLASH.

BANG.

You couldn’t take it anymore and you burst through the door with tears in your eyes. Fear causing you to shake violently.

Jimin and Jungkook both bolted up in bed at the sound of the door slamming open, and were out of bed instantly at the sight of you shaking on the floor.

“Y/N? What’s going on? Are you alright? Are you hurt?” Jungkook’s worried voice echoed in your ear.

“She’s trembling,” Jimin said, rubbing your back.

“I-I I’m sc-”

FLASH.

BANG.

You cried and flung your arms around Jungkook’s neck, burying your face in his chest, tears streaming down your face as you shook violently. Jungkook looked at Jimin in shock and a little bit of his own fear, but Jimin just took his hand and placed it on your head.

‘Comfort her,’ Jimin mouthed.

Jungkook nodded before rubbing your hip soothingly.

“What’s wrong Y/N? Is it the storm?” He asked, bringing his other hand to your shoulder.

“Y-Yes,” you whimpered, keeping your face buried in Jungkook’s neck.

“It’s alright, Jimin and I got you. You’ll be safe,” Jungkook promised.

Jimin rubbed soothing circles onto your back as the two of them tried to ease your frantic heart. Both of them knowing it can’t be good for the baby. But, also, on you. The stress of carrying a baby was already a lot, the fear of this thunderstorm wasn’t a good addition.

Soon, you had cried yourself to sleep.

Jimin took you in his arms, picking you up and Jungkook followed after him as they headed for your room.

The couple laid you down in bed, brushing your face tenderly. Jungkook watched as Jimin covered you up, bringing the sheets right up under your chin. He smiled at the soft pout on your lips, he wondered if the baby would have your cute pout.

Jimin, moved your hair away from your eyes, tucking it behind your ear gently. When he was certain you were settled he took Jungkook’s hand and headed back to their bedroom.

“God, that scared the fuck out of me,” Jungkook said, sitting down on the side of the bed.

“Me too,” Jimin agreed, rubbing his face in exhaustion.

“Didn’t know she was that scared of storms, makes me want to beat up the sky for scaring her like that,” Jungkook said, frowning.

Jimin laughed lightly, but kissed his boyfriend lovingly. “I know you would if you could, or at the very least, sue it,” he snorted.

“Ooh, yeah, that could work,” Jungkook said.

“I’d never seen her like that, so vulnerable. She always puts up such a tough exterior,” Jimin said, biting his lip.

“Yeah, maybe it shows that she’s starting to trust us. I can’t imagine how hard it must be to live with two people who are kinda strangers to her,” Jungkook said, feeling awkward.

“Well, maybe we can fix that,” Jimin reasoned.

“What do you have in mind my stunningly attractive boyfriend?” Jungkook asked, leaning forward.

“Mmm, let’s take her shopping. Spoil her a bit, you’ve got more zeros in your bank account than I can count on all of my fingers. She’s gonna need maternity clothes anyways. Imagine her all dressed in Gucci and Prada while walking around pregnant with our baby,” Jimin said, appearing to be day dreaming himself.

“That would be... nice... To spoil her, show her we care about her well being and everything,” Jungkook nodded in agreement.

“Let’s do it,” Jimin said, gripping Jungkook’s hands.

“Okay, yeah!”

Unfortunately for the couple, you appeared to be hating every second of this shopping excursion.

“Y/N! Come on,” Jungkook said, walking with Jimin’s hand interlocked with his.

“Coming, coming,” you sighed, following after them.

“Y/N? Are you alright? Do you need a break?” Jimin asked, stopping to take a look at you.

“Yeah, I’m fine. Just, sleepy,” you grumbled.

The boys had effectively cut off your caffeine intake as of late, and it was showing. You were more exhausted than ever, just wanting to sleep the day away, but the two men wanting to hear nothing of it today. Normally they would’ve just let you sleep, but, today was a different story.

Jimin bit his lip and looked at Jungkook with concern.

You didn’t seem to be having fun at all.

What was the point in spoiling you if you were just gonna wind up pissed off at the end of it? But maybe you just hadn’t found something you wanted yet. Jimin didn’t want to lose faith so early on, but you really were in a grumpy mood today.

Jungkook pointed out several different kinds of stores, suggesting different ones and you merely told them that whatever they wanted was fine. Feeling defeated already, Jimin told Jungkook to pick a store and maybe you’d find something you wanted in there.

Soon, you were in some high end designer store, looking around with a bored expression on your face. Most girls loved when you spoiled them, wanting nothing more than to have free reign with a credit card and a whole shopping mall. But you looked so fragile and out of place in this big store.

Jungkook looked around and found some things he wanted, Jimin too, but you were still sitting on the bench, head in your hand and looking tired.

The couple looked at each other, wondering what in the world they could do to make you smile. All they wanted to do was spoil you, make you feel better...

“Are you two with the young lady over there,” the store attendant asked, pointing at you with genuine curiosity.

“Ah, yes, she’s with us,” Jimin confirmed.

“I take it she’s not really into the whole shopping experience,” the attendant said, and the couple nodded sadly.

“We just wanted to spoil her, take her out and get her stuff she wanted. But it looks like she’d rather die than be here right now,” Jungkook said, frowning.

“Well, what are some things that she likes?” The shop attendant asked.

“Books,” both of them said quickly.

The attendant laughed at them softly, nodding.

“My wife is a fan of books too, sometimes I wonder if she likes them more than me. But, you said you want to spoil her right? Tell her that, explain what you’re doing, sometimes that helps,” he offered.

Jimin nodded, looking over at your sleepy figure in the corner of the store.

“It’s worth a shot,” he said.

The pair thanked the shop attendant for his time and headed towards you.

You looked up and tried to give the couple a smile, but it looked awkward and forced, making them frown even more. Jungkook sat down next to you, and Jimin kneeled in front of you.

“Y/N, do you know why we forced you out of your blankety cocoon today?” Jimin asked, looking at you with curiosity.

“You said you wanted to take me shopping,” you said, gazing back at him.

“Exactly, we wanted to take you shopping. Not just shop for ourselves and drag you around. We want to spoil you, give you whatever you want. All you have to do is ask and you can have it, Y/N, money isn’t an issue here,” Jimin said.

Biting your lip you felt yourself get uncomfortable. “I-I don’t really like being spoiled, you know? I um... It makes me feel weird,” you said, rubbing your neck.

“The last thing we wanted to do was make you upset,” Jungkook said, biting his lip.

“No I’m not upset I just feel awkward,” you explained.

“Oh, there’s no need to feel awkward Y/N, it’s just us,” Jimin reassured.

“People keep staring at us, like I’m some lame friend third wheeling on a date,” you sighed, rubbing your face.

Jimin and Jungkook both swallowed hard.

They hadn’t realized people were staring. But it would make sense, Jimin and Jungkook were known in the city and suddenly a girl is walking around with them? That did seem a bit odd. They were also regulars in this mall and no doubt the staff were looking too.

God, they had messed this whole day up.

“Oh Y/N, we’re sorry,” Jungkook said, pressing his hands to his face.

“Sorry? Sorry for what?” You asked, turning to look at him with confusion.

“Not including you,” Jimin explained.

“There’s no need to include me-” you started when Jungkook cut you off quickly.

“Yes there is, you’re carrying our baby, we want you to feel comfortable and safe. Not ignored and shut out, that’s not fair to you,” he said, brushing his hair away from his face.

“Yeah, we want you to have whatever you want. As long as it isn’t unhealthy for you or the baby,” Jimin said.

“This isn’t about flexing or whatever on other people, this is about you. And what you want,” Jungkook said.

“Well,” you said, worrying your lip with your teeth.

“Yes?” Jimin said, leaning forward.

“It’s, well, I guess some new clothes wouldn’t be bad. I’ll need maternity stuff,” you told them.

“Yes! Absolutely! We can do that!” Jimin said, standing up and pulling you with him.

However, it was a little too fast for you, causing your head to spin. Jungkook was steadying you with his warm palms on your waist, Jimin keeping you upright with his hands around your wrists.

“Sorry Y/N! I-I wasn’t thinking and I got so excited, sorry,” Jimin frowned at himself.

“It’s alright,” you said, not wanting him to be upset over something that didn’t really matter.

“I need to be more gentle with you, you’re carrying our baby for Christ sakes,” Jimin huffed.

You nodded, noticing the stern look on Jimin’s face. Licking your dry lips, you looked down at your feet. You were only a month along so you couldn’t really see anything yet. But knowing there was a life inside of you made you feel a little flutter in your chest every time you thought about it.

However, you needed to get that under control.

This wasn’t your baby.

And that’s just how it was going to be.

Jimin and Jungkook had managed to drag you into a designer store for mothers apparently, because everything in here looked like it was worth a fortune. How were you supposed to pick something and wear it when you were afraid it was gonna get dirty? For fucksake you were almost certain they would be ruined by the end of this pregnancy.

“Ooh! Y/N, pink is your color,” Jimin smiled, holding up a rose colored blouse at you.

Looking down you saw small daisies printed on the shirt as well. It was cute, you had to give him that. You agreed to try it on, but only if he promised not to show you the price tag. Jimin nodded quickly.

Jungkook came around the corner, carrying a couple different articles of clothing. Mainly dresses, as they would be a comfortable and easy choice. But there were some skirts and blouses in his arms too. After finding the ones you liked the three of you were sent to the dressing rooms.

Jimin and Jungkook waited outside on the bench, demanding a fashion show from you. You rolled your eyes, but didn’t say no before you headed in and tried on a couple of outfits.

You walked out and did a little spin every time, Jungkook and Jimin giving their opinions. Which were always small claps with whistles accompanying them.

Then you walked out in a shorter green sundress that you had managed to grab on the shelf without looking at the tag, thank God. It was green with splashes of turquoise and white that made your eyes pop beautifully. There was a cutout at the top that showed a little bit of cleavage but it wasn’t an insane amount. Nothing you thought anything of anyways.

It came to your knees, and it was generous with the room in it. No doubt when you were showing it would come up to your mid thigh. Fluffing your hair you walked out and smiled at the boys. Jungkook’s eyes trailed down your body. This was the first non maxi dress you’d tried on, even the skirts had been considerably modest. So, they were getting the first glimpse at your skin.

Jimin was stunned.

You were absolutely gorgeous. A vision.

Legs looking gorgeous and long, skirt fluttering around your knees but Jimin couldn’t help imagine you when you were showing a little more. Would it ride up higher? Clearing his throat he smiles at you.

“It looks really good, Y/N, I didn’t pick this one. Did you Kook?” Jimin said, turning to his boyfriend, who seemed to still be in a stupor.

“Jungkook?” You said, looking at the doe eyed man with a little bit of worry pinching your features.

“Yes? No, it-you look amazing Y/N, did you pick this out?” He asked you.

“I did, yeah,” you answered.

“Little sneak, do you really want to stop our hearts?” Jimin teased.

Blushing you brushed your hair behind your ear and stared at your shoes. Jungkook looked at you with so much longing it made Jimin’s heart stammer. Not out of jealousy, but something else. Jimin shook the thought from his head.

Soon you were all settled back in the car, several shopping bags in the back. Jimin and Jungkook had requested a driver today, wanting to just enjoy the experience. So, the driver dutifully drove while the three of you sat in the back.

You looked out the window and watched scenery pass you by. Jimin and Jungkook looked at you, each with a similar look on their face and similar feelings in their chest. But neither of them were brave enough to admit it to themselves. Not when they almost had everything they’ve ever wanted, or what they thought they wanted...

Getting out of the car, Jimin asked the driver to have the bags delivered up to their apartment. The driver nodded before disappearing.

The three of you made your way up to the apartment, but not before Jimin and Jungkook spilled that they had a surprise for you. Looking at them with a menacing glare, Jungkook broke first as you three made it into the entryway of the apartment.

“It’s nothing crazy, just... We didn’t want you feeling like the third wheel or, you know, not a part of this. You are just as important to us as the baby you are carrying, and while you’re with us we want you happy and... so we got you this,” Jungkook said, holding out the signature blue box that made your stomach churn with how much it must’ve cost.

“Please, don’t ask how much it cost. It doesn’t matter as long as it makes you happy,” Jimin whispered.

Slowly, you opened the box and a beautiful moon pendant sparkling in diamonds and white gold stared at you. You damn near dropped the thing because of how gorgeous it was. Jungkook and Jimin froze on the spot when they saw tears starting to fall down your face.

“Do you not like it?” Jimin asked.

“Is it too much? Did we go overboard?” Jungkook worried.

“N-No, it’s beautiful,” you said, touching the pendant with a delicate finger.

“Do you want to put it on?” Jungkook asked, hoping to God that you didn’t throw this pendant back in their faces.

“Yes, please,” you said, handing Jungkook the back and brushing your hair out of the way so he had access.

Slowly, you watched as the beautiful moon swung just above your cleavage, kissing your chest lightly. It was fastened behind your neck and you turned around, looking at the two men with a bright smile on your face.

Then, they held up their wrists.

A sun and a star.

You looked and saw it was all a matching set.

“You guys, you really,” you said, smiling softly.

“Honestly, Y/N, you’re our equal in this. You aren’t just a womb we’re renting,” Jimin said. “You’re a person, with wants and feelings and we want you to feel that. More than anything, we want you happy and safe.”

“We’re so thrilled you chose us, seriously. If there’s anything you want, anything you need, name it, we’ll get it for you. Scouts honor,” Jungkook said, holding up his hand.

Feeling an overwhelming sense of emotion, more tears ran down your cheeks, making you sniffle and wipe at them with irritation. You didn’t want to cry right now, you were happy! Now, you just looked like a snotty red mess.

“Aw, don’t cry Y/N!” Jungkook said, coming forward to wipe your tears.

“God you guys are such turds, making me cry all the time,” you sniffled.

“It’s not our fault!” Jimin said.

“It is very much your fault,” you said, holding your stomach gently.

A rush of air left the two of them at you doing something so maternal. It made Jungkook’s blood burst into flames, and Jimin had to swallow a moan at the knowledge of you being pregnant with his baby. You cocked your head to the side and looked at the two silent men.

“Okay, well... Thanks for today you two... I’m glad I got to be spoiled a little bit. I’m gonna go take a shower, are we ordering out for dinner tonight?” You asked. They were still silent and you wondered what the fuck broke them when Jimin blinked rapidly a few times before clearing his throat.

“Y-You’re welcome, if you want to go again just tell us and we can,” he said, fighting to keep his calm exterior.

“Okay, I’m gonna go take a shower then,” you said again, taking off towards the stairs.

Jungkook damn near collapsed on the floor when you were finally gone.

“Jesus,” he said, panting hard.

“Do you, do you feel it too?” Jimin asked, gazing at the area where you had been standing.

“Yeah,” Jungkook croaked.

“Fuck what’s wrong with us? She’s here for us to care for her, to nurture her, not use her like some object,” Jimin said, running his hands through his hair in frustration.

Jungkook rubbed his shoulders, trying to soothe his boyfriend’s frantic thoughts. He agreed. You weren’t someone for them to use and abuse... You were the mother of their child and you deserved to be respected. But God if the thought of you didn’t send their minds spiraling.

“I know... We just gotta tough it out I guess. What else can we do?” Jungkook reasoned.

“I don’t know Kook, I don’t know,” Jimin said, gripping his boyfriend’s hand tightly.

—

The six week mark came and so did the morning sickness. To start, it was just waves of nausea, but soon it turned into full blown vomiting.

It was around seven in the morning and you had barely slept a wink. You felt jittery and restless, unable to relax. But when you sat up to head to the kitchen for something to eat, your stomach flipped. Soon, you were in the bathroom getting sick in the toilet.

Shortly you heard a knocking at the door.

“Y/N? Sweetie are you alright?” Jimin’s worried voice echoed through the door.

“Yeah,” you wheezed, trying to keep yourself from hurling again.

“Can I come in?” His light tone echoed through the room.

“Yeah,” you said, feeling another rush of nausea washing over you as he comes in. You looked and saw his worried face come into focus.

“Oh sweetheart,” Jimin said, rubbing your back as you got sick once more.

“Jimin? Y/N?” Jungkook’s voice echoed in the apartment.

“We’re in the bathroom Kook!” Jimin yelled.

Shortly Jungkook’s footsteps came into the bathroom. He was frowning, knowing you must be uncomfortable and there wasn’t much he could do for you. Watching Jimin rub your back gave him a sense of comfort however.

You were struggling with your chest being tender also. Every time you moved against the toilet you felt a jolt of pain go down your spine. Wincing when you came back up, Jimin had gotten you a little cup of water. You swished the cool liquid around before spitting it out and standing up slowly, per Jimin’s instructions.

You brushed your teeth and told the boys you were alright. They left and you did the rest of your morning routine. Jimin came back into your room and asked if you were ready for breakfast. You nodded and let Jimin lead you to the kitchen table. Jimin, taking note of your poor start to the day, asked if you wanted anything in particular for breakfast. Thinking back you really enjoyed the Nutella and banana toast he made for you a while back.

He nodded and started the toaster quickly. Jungkook had been working overtime recently and had to leave shortly after your bathroom incident. Soon, two pieces of Nutella toast with bananas were placed in front of you.

But the second the smell of banana hit your nose, you were scrunching up your face in disgust. Jimin looked at you with confusion. Then it dawned on him: food sensitivity.

Quickly removing the plate he asked if anything else sounded good, and you came up with the weird combination that was scrambled eggs with cream cheese.

Jimin looked on with a light smile on his face as you scarfed down the eggs and cream cheese without a single nose scrunch. It always made him happy to see you eating. Keeping up your health for the sake of the baby and you made him happy.

Soon, you were done and Jimin had gone into the living room to watch some TV when you noticed him sitting there. Lounging on the couch was a normal thing, but, looking at him now you-you couldn’t put your finger on it. He just looked so good, sitting there. He’d recently redid his hair so it was a beautiful blond color. His eyes wandered from the television to you, standing there in your loose t-shirt and pajama shorts.

He licked his lips for a moment, but that was all it took for you.

The flash of his tongue made you slightly weak in the knees, causing you to grip the edge of the table for support. Jimin seemed to mistake this for a more serious problem as he was up in a matter of seconds to come to your side.

“Y/N? What’s the matter?” He asked, looking at you with concern.

“I-I’m good,” you said, giving him a thumbs up. “I think I just ate too fast.”

Jimin mulled this over in his head for a moment before nodding and stepping back.

“As long as you’re okay,” he said, heading back towards the couch.

But your symptoms weren’t just limited to food sensitivity, morning sickness and random bouts of arousal, oh no... The best one was the nightmares that had taken over your sleep schedule.

Normally they were just vague things that you forgot about when you woke up. But they were becoming more vivid. More, unsettling.

You were dreaming being in pools of blood, sometimes it was yours, sometimes it belonged to the boys. Sometimes you didn’t know where it came from, but it was always there. Never to be washed away, only to drown in...

You were caught up in the throes of a particularly bad nightmare...

You’d miscarried and lost the baby, Jimin and Jungkook were heartbroken and left you bleeding out on the floor as you stared up into the ceiling, dying.

The room was tilted and everything was wobbly.

You tried to go after them, to ask for another chance. But it was too late, they were gone.

Screaming, you bolted up in your bed. Tears flowing down your cheeks at a rapid rate. Your heart was hammering in your chest so loud you swore you could feel it in your throat.

You heard the slamming of a door and soon Jimin and Jungkook barged into your room, looking around frantically until they found you on your bed, shaking and crying into your hands.

“Y/N!” They yelled, going to your sides and trying to get you to talk to them.

“Sweetie, what happened? Why did you scream?” Jimin asked, petting your hair trying to soothe you.

“I-I had a nightmare, I-I lost the baby and, then lost you two,” you whimpered, covering your face again.

Jungkook swallowed thickly, the image of you crying being burned into his memory. He hated seeing you like this. It hurt him to see you so distraught. Jimin, too, was struggling with your emotions. He just wanted you happy and healthy, free from any worry and troubles of the real world. But of course, he couldn’t protect you from everything and everyone. No matter how much he wanted to.

“Y/N, it’s okay. We’re right here, we aren’t going anywhere,” said Jungkook. You were crying violently, looking at the bed spread with blurred vision. Jimin looked at Jungkook with worry written all over his features, your smaller frame sat shaking in the bed as the two males tried to comfort you.

Jungkook hesitantly reached out to wipe the tears from your face. You looked up at the man with puffy cheeks and swollen eyes, before glancing back down at your lap.

“You aren’t going to lose us, Y/N,” Jimin reassured.

“I’m scared,” you whispered, so broken that it had both of their eyes tearing up at the sound.

“It’s alright, we’re scared too,” Jimin said, patting your hair gently. “But we’ll get through this.”

“There was so much blood,” you whimpered, biting your lip trying to keep the sobs from coming out.

“Y/N,” Jungkook said, feeling his eyes burning with unshed tears of his own.

“I was dying and you just... left me there,” you confessed.

“We could never leave you just like that Y/N, ever,” Jimin said, sounding shocked.

“We’d never forgive ourselves if something happened to you,” Jungkook whispered.

Jimin grabbed his hand, rubbing his fingers over the knuckles. He knew seeing you like this was hard on both of them, and knowing how much you truly didn’t think they cared was also hurtful. Because all they wanted was to tell you you didn’t have to leave... But it couldn’t work like that.

Jimin’s work as a high end therapist was already wobbly because of his relationship with Jungkook. As unfortunate as it is, people didn’t want his help if he was dating a fellow man.

And Jungkook had already been shamed for his love publicly, the gossip forums on the newspaper and websites having a hay day with his image. He’d worked so hard to show he wasn’t any different than a straight man when it came to his work. But, the world is a cruel place, and social norms often reared their ugly heads with Jungkook.

They couldn’t drag you into that cesspool of nasty comments and uncomfortable encounters. It was a harsh reality, but it was the one you were all living in. And there wasn’t anything they could do about it.

Jungkook wanted to scream about how it was unfair. How you sitting here with them wasn’t wrong, as long as you all cared about one another, how could it be? But they both knew how this would end.

With you walking out of their lives and your child’s life, forever.

“I’m sorry for waking you up,” you hiccuped, swallowing down the rest of your tears.

“No, don’t be sorry,” Jimin said, rubbing your shoulder.

“If something’s wrong we want you to tell us,” Jungkook said, looking at you with misty eyes.

“I-I will,” you said, wiping your face.

“Are you going to be able to go back to sleep?” Jimin asked, looking at your state with concern.

“I should be able to,” you said, trying to convince yourself of the same thing.

“We can stay with you, until you’re asleep,” Jungkook offered before even thinking. Jimin’s head snapped to the younger male, who was already shrinking.

“W-Would you?” Your soft voice spoke up.

Jimin nodded finally, crawling into the bed with you and Jungkook following suit. They each took a hand and held it tightly. Jimin drew different shapes and patterns on your palm, making you giggle when it tickled. Jungkook interlocked your fingers together, running his thumb over your soft skin like Jimin did with him when he was nervous or scared.

Sooner, rather than later, you were passed out once more, hands clutching Jimin and Jungkook’s.

The men managed to untangle themselves from you as they went back to their room, hearts heavy. When the door shut, Jungkook burst into tears.

“Oh my sweet boy, don’t cry,” Jimin said, wiping his boyfriend’s cheeks carefully.

“Jimin,” he said, forehead resting on the older man’s shoulder.

“I know, it hurts me too,” Jimin whispered.

“I just want her to know that she’s not just a convenience, she’s so much more than that,” Jungkook whimpered.

“Yeah,” Jimin said, thinking of your body curled up on the couch with a good book and a warm drink next to you. Your smile when your favorite song comes on in the car. The way you’re already so protective over the baby.

“I don’t know if it’s because she’s carrying our baby or what, but, I want to be closer to her. I want to know everything about her... God I don’t know what to do with myself Jimin,” Jungkook complained, wiping at his tears in frustration.

“We just gotta keep it in our mind that she had a life before this, and she’ll have a life after it too. S-She’s doing this because we’re paying her Jungkook. Of course that isn’t the only reason but, it is the main one,” Jimin reminded his boyfriend, and himself.

Even though the words felt hollow in the air.

“I guess,” Jungkook said.

“You’ve got work early, we need to go back to bed,” Jimin said, motioning for Jungkook to get into bed as well. The two men cuddled up to each other, each feeling like something, or someone, was missing...

--

Faster than you thought possible, the ten week mark had come.

It was time to get your first ultrasound of the pregnancy.

The boys were over the moon about the whole thing. Excitedly chatting in the car.

“I hope we can see the baby well,” Jungkook said, driving carefully through the street.

Jimin hummed in agreement. “Me too, the baby is still super small right now. About the size of a prune but, we’ll still be able to see them on the screen. And, we can hear their heartbeat!”

You smiled at their excitement. Bringing your fingers up you brushed the pendant they gave you, a nervous habit you’d picked up shortly after their gifting it to you. Jungkook looked at you in the rearview, playing with the sparkling jewelry piece. It made his chest feel tight, looking at you. Jimin placed a hand on his, making Jungkook focus on him for a moment.

Jimin shook his head and Jungkook swallowed thickly, knowing exactly what he meant.

Soon, you were all at the clinic.

Jimin helped you out of the backseat, getting your bag and whatnot so you didn’t have to fuss with it. Jungkook placed a protective hand on your lower back, guiding you into the building.

You felt your heart flutter in your chest at the action, having to cover up your blushing with a cough. Jimin urged you to sit down while he got the paperwork, something you didn’t fight him on. You were exhausted as of late.

The boys reassured you it was normal to be tired. You knew, however, that you were a little more tired than normal. Briefly you wondered if it was because it was your first time and you’d never felt something like this. However, that didn’t sit right. You knew there was something going on, but you didn’t want to worry the boys. Especially since you were getting an ultrasound today.

Sitting next to Jungkook in the waiting room, he made small talk. Asking how you were feeling and if the morning sickness had gotten any better.

“It’s gotten worse,” you complained, leaning your head back in the seat.

“Really? Maybe we can ask the doctor to prescribe something for you,” he said.

“It should be going away soon, I’ll be alright,” you reassured, patting his knee.

“Sometimes it doesn’t go away until the baby is born, I just don’t want you to suffer if we can do something about it,” Jungkook said softly.

“If it gets too bad, I’ll say something. Okay?” You said, keeping a gentle smile on your face.

“Yeah, okay,” he agreed.

Jimin came back and took Jungkook’s hand, intertwining their fingers together. Jimin had a habit of tracing the tattoos on Jungkook’s hands when he was nervous, it made you smile.

Eventually a nurse called your name and led you back to the ultrasound room. Jungkook smiled and sat down in the chair provided. Jimin helped you up onto the table and the ultrasound tech went over what they would be looking for and opened it up for questions.

When no one had any, she proceeded.

“Okay, I just need you to pull the front of your pants down a little bit,” the tech asked, prepping the machine.

You immediately turned and looked at Jungkook and Jimin, then down at your stomach. It wasn’t a big deal, it was just a little bit anyways.

Without much more thought you pulled your pants so just the top of your panties were showing. Jungkook’s eyes widened at your actions, but he tried to keep a calm exterior. Jimin kept his eyes trained on the screen, not wanting you to feel uncomfortable.

The ultrasound gel was cold, making you jump when it came in contact with your skin. But soon it was warming to your skin and you all looked at the screen with rapt attention.

“Alright so we should see the head and curvature of the body, but other than that this is just to make sure that everything is looking good in the uterus and to see if there are any abnormalities with the baby-oh! Babies it appears,” the tech said, a big smile on her face.

“What?” Jimin said.

“There’s another head there, if you look right here,” she pointed at the screen. “Looks like you’ve got a set of twins in there!”

Jungkook’s eyes teared up, looking down at your stomach with his heart in his throat.

You were stunned.

Twins?

The first try?

Wow, you really did win the lottery.

“Oh my God,” Jimin said, hiding his face in Jungkook’s shoulder.

“Way to go, got those twins first try,” you said, trying to keep your nerves under control.

“It’s all thanks to you Y/N, we couldn’t do it without you,” Jungkook reminded.

“Are you guys going to want the pictures?” The tech asked. Jimin and Jungkook of course said yes.

“Wow, look at their heads babe!” Jimin yelped as you all walked out of the clinic together. Jimin was still cooing over the pictures of the twins from the ultrasound.

“I need to put it in my wallet,” he said, bringing out the accessory shortly after.

You smiled at their excitement. You were beyond happy, you’d done it. Gave them the twins they desperately wanted. First try too. You knew that meant a few more complications, but, you didn’t want that to hold too much weight over you.

“We should call Namjoon and Jin! Tell them the news about the twins!”

You nodded quickly, wanting to tell your friends the update.

Namjoon and Jin were thrilled, obviously. Insisting that they’ll give Annie to Jin’s parents for the night so you could all get together and have a meal. Agreeing, the boys set it up for around seven thirty.

“Dress nice! I also expect to see those ultrasound pictures!” Jin said through the phone.

You snorted and shook your head, gently touching your stomach. You felt a fluttering in your chest, like you were standing on the edge of a tall building or something. It made you gasp lightly, moving your hand away from your belly to your chest. Jimin seemed to notice your movement because he was turning around in his seat.

“Everything alright there?” He asked, looking at you with his beautiful brown eyes.

“Y-yeah, I’m good. We’re-good,” you said, pointing to your tummy. Jimin’s eyes lit up at the mention of the babies.

“Okay, tell me if you need anything,” he said, turning around and facing the front once more.

You all walked back into the apartment, Jungkook still gushing about everything. You simply smiled and went to go get ready for dinner.

Jin did say to look nice, so you picked out a few things from your shopping excursion a while back. Putting on a dress that looked skin tight but it was super stretchy, so no doubt you could wear it late into the pregnancy. The zipper on the back would be an issue but, it made you feel a little sexy. You hadn’t really done a lot in regards to your appearance around the boys, you didn’t see the need.

But, it wouldn’t hurt to do your hair and dress nicely...

You had the perfect shoes to pair with the dress. You grabbed some stockings and a few other small pieces of jewelry, placing them on the bed while you assembled everything together the way you wanted it.

Eventually, you were all set.

Except for the zipper on the back.

You didn’t understand why there was a zipper on such a stretchy dress, but fashion has its ways you guess. Reaching behind you proved unsuccessful. Quickly growing frustrated, you did the following without thinking.

“Jimin? Jungkook? Can one of you come here for a second please?”

Once the words were out, you immediately wished you could eat them.

But the damage had been done.

Both men walked in your room.

Jimin’s jaw dropped open, looking at you in awe.

You were in knee high stockings, low heels and a slinky black dress that hugged your body so perfectly it made him want to drop to his knees. Jungkook fared no better. Seeing your hair styled and a little bit of makeup on your features really enhanced your natural beauty. They both were staring, making you shrink in embarrassment.

“O-Okay, you can blink any time now,” you said, chuckling to ease the tension in the room.

“You look... wow,” Jimin breathed.

“Incredible. You look incredible,” Jungkook said, eyes trailing down your legs.

“Thank you, but, um... Could one of you please come zip me up? I can’t reach the zipper,” you said, turning your back to them fully.

Jungkook stared at his boyfriend with an almost agonized look on his face. Jimin nodded and walked forward, brushing your hair out of the way. Placing a gentle hand on your hip Jimin pulled the zipper up to the top, covering each inch of your beautiful skin.

Jungkook swallowed his noise of protest, trying to remember what Jimin had said. You weren’t an object for them to use, you were their surrogate. The woman who would be birthing their twins. And then leaving...

Jimin knew if Jungkook had walked forward to zip up your dress he wouldn’t be able to keep it together. Jimin wasn’t doing that hot either to be honest. Your hips flared out. Looking so beautiful hugged in the dress, and the warmth of your skin beneath his fingertips was... alarming.

“Thank you,” you said, turning around with a smile on your face.

Jimin couldn’t help but mirror your grin.

“Absolutely, are you ready to go now?” He asked, trying to keep from getting distracted any more.

“Yeah, let’s go! I want Jin to feed me so much I burst,” you said, heading towards the door. Once you were gone, Jungkook looked at Jimin.

“This is only getting harder,” Jungkook said, biting his lip.

“Are you going to be alright?” Jimin questioned, placing his hand on Jungkook’s shoulder.

“Yeah, just... This feels wrong,” Jungkook whispered.

“What feels wrong?” Jimin asked.

“Keeping her at arm's length, I just feel awkward. Pushing her away when she’s doing something so big for us, it’s really emotionally charged and... I feel like a jerk for treating her like just another person. Like she isn’t special,” Jungkook explained, brushing his hair out of his face.

“I understand,” Jimin said, trying to smooth the frown lines from Jungkook’s face.

“Boys? Are you coming?” Your voice echoed through the house.

“Coming!” Jimin said. “We’ll talk about this later, okay? We’ll figure this out.”

—

The dinner at Jin and Namjoon’s was beyond anything you’d expected.

There was so much food and honestly, you ate a lot. Lying back in your chair, tilting your head back you sighed. Rubbing your stomach unconsciously. But the boys noticed everything. Especially how amazing you looked in that outfit.

It was just about all they could do to keep their hands off of you. Jungkook was fidgeting the whole night, being the one who sat next to you. He really tried to keep his cool, but a man could only take so much.

“So, Y/N, how does it feel to be pregnant with twins?” Namjoon asked, taking a small bite of rice.

“Honestly? It’s not been a cake walk, let me tell you. My mood swings are everywhere, my chest is killing me, food is either a hit or miss and don’t get me started on how arou-ahem,” you froze at your brazen attitude. Jimin and Jungkook’s heads snapped at your statement, looking at you with masked emotions. “Sorry, got carried away. Anyways, it’s been wild. But, I’m really glad to be doing it, you know? The boys take good care of me,” you praised, smiling at the two of them now.

Namjoon noticed it first.

The twinkle in Jungkook’s eyes at your words. How genuinely happy he seemed listening to you talk. Jimin’s body language was always engaged with you, never closing off or making it appear like he wasn’t interested.

Namjoon’s eyes widened.

This would need to be discussed...

Soon, everyone was sitting in the living room, just digesting. When you got up and said you had to use the restroom.

When the men were alone, Namjoon attacked.

“What are you guys doing?” He asked, looking at the two younger men with worry in his features.

“What do you mean?” Jimin quizzed right back.

“Listen, I’ve been friends with Y/N for a long time. I really care about her and want only the best for her. I also want you guys to be happy and healthy and have your own family, so please don’t take what I’m about to say personally but-what the fuck?” He asked.

“What do you mean what the fuck?” Jungkook asked.

“Why are you looking at her like that?” Namjoon asked, feeling his frustration rise.

“Like what?!” Jimin argued.

“Like you-Like you, are all, like... a couple?” Namjoon said, feeling the awkward tension rising in the room.

“What?” Jungkook coughed.

“We aren’t together,” Jimin said slowly.

“But do you want to be?” Namjoon asked.

Jungkook broke first.

“I don’t know,” he whispered, placing his head in his hands. Jimin was quick to comfort the younger male, rubbing his back in big, soothing circles.

“It’s a new experience for us. We just want her to be happy and healthy and safe. You know, take care of her,” Jimin explained, skirting around the question.

“Of course, but, there’s a difference between appreciation and affection,” Jin said, speaking up.

“Y-Yeah, we know that,” Jimin answered. “I’m a therapist, I know what emotions are.”

Namjoon rolled his eyes.

“If you know what emotions are then why are you denying your own?” he asked.

“I’m not!”

“Bullshit,” Namjoon challenged.

“This is fucking ridiculous,” Jimin growled.

“What’s all the angry whispering out here for?” You asked, walking back into the room. The energy snapped within an instant.

“It’s alright, just a heated debate about politics,” Namjoon joked, giving you a tender smile.

“Oookay?” You said, coming back in to sit down next to Jungkook, who was trying his best to not squirm when your thigh brushed his.

The rest of the night moved rather calmly, but not without a fierce monopoly game that almost caused a few table flips. Jungkook wound up losing and threw a mini tantrum. But it was quickly smoothed over when you promised you’d bake him some cookies the next time he had a day off.

While Namjoon and Jin were cleaning up, Jungkook and Jimin discovered your sleeping frame on the couch once more. Breaths coming in even and slow, they smiled at you. Your lips were pouting lightly, something they’d discovered was a habit when you were sleeping.

And Jungkook adored it.

He came over to your side and tried to wake you up, but when you whined and fussed he decided it would just be easier to carry you to the car. Carefully, the strong young man lifted you into his arms and towards the door. Jimin got the rest of your things all together and they thanked Jin and Namjoon for the meal and night.

But before they left, Namjoon grabbed Jimin by the shoulder. Jungkook waited, looking back in worry. Jimin waved him on, saying he’d be there in a minute. Jungkook nodded before heading out the door.

“What?” Jimin asked.

“I’m sorry about earlier, I overstepped. I didn’t mean to offend you or Jungkook. It’s just, Y/N is very inexperienced when it comes to love and emotions and having that connection. I’m worried about what’s happening to her. I don’t want her to get her hopes up and be crushed later on,” he explained.

Jimin nodded his head.

“I accept your apology. I didn’t mean to fly off the handle either, Jungkook and I have been... Discussing it. But it’s not an easy thing to come to terms with, we aren’t sure what we feel for her... We know we care about her, but is it because she’s our surrogate and we want to care for her? Or is it something deeper? We don’t know,” Jimin sighed, running his fingers through his hair.

“Y/N is so special. She gives without thinking, she is so dedicated to those she cares about... she’d give the shirt off her back to someone she didn’t even know. It’s hard not to love her, but... she doesn’t deserve to be pulled in a million different directions either. But you all deserve to be happy, I’m always here if you need to talk,” Namjoon offered.

Jimin smiled lightly. “That’s normally my line.”

“You guys are good people, I wouldn’t have recommended Y/N do this if I didn’t trust you. But, just... please don’t take advantage of her heart. And don’t lie to yourselves either.”

Jimin nodded, looking down at the floor with a resolute nod.

“Thanks, both of you,” Jimin said, giving a small wave before heading out towards the car. Jungkook already had you buckled and settled in.

“What was that about?” Jungkook asked, getting into the front seat.

“He wanted to apologize for earlier, he felt like he overstepped. And, he wanted to explain why he was so defensive over Y/N,” Jimin said.

Jungkook nodded and started the car, taking off down the road.

“Why is he so protective? Did they like, date in the past or something?” Jungkook asked. Jimin shook his head.

“N-No, Y/N hasn’t ever had a boyfriend or girlfriend,” Jimin said, resting his head in his hand.

“What? Really?” Jungkook balked. Trying to think of how someone like you hadn’t ever been snatched up before. You were a total catch! But, you did tend to keep to yourself.

“Yeah, she told me about it the day she had her IUI done,” Jimin explained.

“Oh, so-wait. She’s having a baby when she’s never, like, had sex?” Jungkook said. “Is that safe?”

“I mean I’m sure it’s safe but, she’s not... Um, she told me she’s had sex before,” Jimin said.

“Wow, how did this all come up?” Jungkook asked.

“Well, she mentioned something about wanting someone who looked at her the way we look at each other,” Jimin blushed.

“She’s so cute,” Jungkook groaned. “Well, at least she’s been with someone before. You know, had that kind of pleasure.”

Jimin coughed, rubbing his neck. Jungkook looked at him weirdly.

“What?”

“She may have off-handedly mentioned that she’s never, uh... You know, finished,” Jimin flushed. Jungkook looked floored at the information.

“You mean to tell me, that some jerk took her virginity and didn’t fucking make it special? What a fucking tool bag,” Jungkook growled.

“I don’t know the story, she didn’t divulge that kind of information. I was the one who guessed she’s never finished, and she was pretty embarrassed about it all to be honest,” Jimin said.

“That is so frustrating,” Jungkook said.

“Yeah.”

The car was quiet, save for your soft little snores coming from the back seat.

“Did you hear what she said during dinner?” Jimin asked. “When she was talking about her pregnancy symptoms.”

“Yeah...” Jungkook trailed off.

“I wish we could do something for her, I feel so bad,” Jimin whispered.

“We can be there to support her but we can’t over step either,” Jungkook said.

“I know, normally I’m the one reminding you of that,” Jimin huffed.

“I understand it’s not easy for either of us,” Jungkook said softly.

“Maybe we just need a god romp in the sheets to get it out of our system hmm?” Jimin teased, running a hand up Jungkook’s thigh. Jungkook couldn’t help the hiss that came out of his mouth at the touch. They hadn’t really been active in that way since you’d come into the house.

“Y-You know how loud I get,” Jungkook said, swallowing hard.

“Oh I’m very aware how loud I can make you scream,” Jimin winked.

“Stop, I’m already hard,” Jungkook whined.

“I bet you are baby,” Jimin said, squeezing his boyfriend’s thigh tight.

“Stop, please,” Jungkook whined.

“Mmm,” Jimin said, not sensing that Jungkook really wanted him to stop. “And what if I keep going baby? What if I snuck my hand into your pants and tugged your pathetic little cock until you came huh? Make you come all over your expensive pants and make you lick it up?”

“Jimin,” Jungkook said, cock straining against his pants.

“Yes baby? What does my baby want, huh?” Jimin asked, so sweet... Almost dangerous.

“I-I want-”

“Mmm, are we home yet?” You voice perked up from the back seat.

“Y/N?” Jimin asked, turning to look at you. Your eyes were bleary from sleep and it was obvious you must’ve just woken up. Jungkook adjusted himself in the seat, trying to hide his throbbing erection from your sight.

“Yeah?” You said, blinking slow.

“Sweetie,” Jimin cooed, brushing a few strands of your hair back from your face, even though it was an awkward angle for him.

“Jungkook are you okay?” You asked, noticing how tense the young man’s posture was.

“I-I’m good,” he said, trying to hide his arousal.

“Okay,” you said, laying your head back down.

Jungkook pulled the car into the front slot of the building, handing the keys over to the valet. The two of them brought you out of the car and Jimin decided it was his turn to carry you up to the apartment. So, the three of you all made it to the apartment in silence.

You were awake, but you weren’t feeling too terribly chatty. Sleep still at the forefront of your mind. Jungkook and Jimin hadn’t spoken since you got out of the car, and you can’t help but feel like you were in the middle of something kinda intense. The charged feeling in the room making you shift against Jimin’s chest.

He looked down at you, trying to keep himself from jostling you too much. You were exhausted. But soon, you felt bile rising in your throat...

“Jimin put me down,” you said, holding your hand to the mouth. Just as he set you down you scrambled to the bathroom and threw up the massive dinner you’d eaten. Jimin and Jungkook were rushing right after you. Jungkook brought your hair away from your face. Jimin sat down next to him to rub your back.

You got to the point where you were just dry heaving into the toilet, but it didn’t seem to end.

“Oh fuck,” you croaked, coughing hard.

“You want some water?” Jimin asked.

“No, I’m scared I’ll just throw that up too,” you whined.

“It might be better than just dry heaving,” Jimin said.

“You got a point,” you huffed, trying to keep your head from spinning.

“I’ll get you some,” he said, moving off the floor to head towards the kitchen. Jungkook shuffled forward, kind of molding his front to your back. When you pushed a little too hard against him you felt it. Wondering what it could be for a moment you pushed back against him again, when he groaned in surprise.

“U-Um, Jungkook?” You squeaked.

“S-Sorry!” He said, moving away faster than the speed of light.

“I-It’s okay, just, you know,” you flushed.

“It’s not because of you! It’s not uh, I wasn’t um,” he stuttered.

“I-I didn’t think it was?” You said, more of a question.

“It’s not that you’re not pretty or anything it’s-”

“No, I get it,” you said, smiling weakly.

“Y/N-”

“Here’s your water,” Jimin said, bringing in a glass for you to drink.

You sipped it slowly. Not paying attention. Jungkook looked like he was going to die in the corner, which made Jimin shoot him a weird look. He just shook his head as he covered his face. Jimin made a mental note to question him about it later, but his concern was on you right now.

“Have you been getting sick a lot?” Jimin asked, placing a soft hand on your shoulder.

“I mean, it’s mainly in the morning. I think I just ate too much at dinner,” you said, pouting lightly.

“Gotcha, do you feel like you’re going to get sick again? Or do you think you’re done?” He asked.

“I-I think I’m good,” you said, putting the empty glass down.

“Are you sure?” Jimin asked, making you look at him.

“Mhmm,” you confirmed, eyes getting droopy again.

“Alright sleepyhead, brush your teeth and go to bed. Need help getting up?” Jimin worried, fussing over you like any father to be would.

You stood up slowly, mindful of your dizzy head. But, when you stood at the sink you felt everything kinda snap into focus. Jimin dragged Jungkook out of the bathroom to let you do your thing, but told you to come get them if you needed anything.

Hurrying into the bedroom, Jimin narrowed his eyes at his boyfriend.

“Why did you look like you’d rather crawl into an overflowing storm drain than be in that bathroom? What happened when I was getting water?”

Jungkook looked up at Jimin could see the embarrassment on his face. Sighing, Jimin sat down, placing his hand on his boyfriend’s back.

“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have teased you in the car. It’s just, been a while you know? I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable or anything,” Jimin apologized.

“Y/N felt it, my... When you moved me so you could get out of the bathroom to get her the water, she was pushed up against me. And, she pushed back against me and felt my dick against her,” Jungkook said, rubbing her face.

“Oh, that is... uh, awkward,” Jimin agreed.

“It gets worse,” Jungkook said.

“What do you mean?” Jimin asked.

“I-I told her it wasn’t because of her and then I tried to tell her it’s not that she wasn’t pretty and I just threw up a bunch of words that didn’t make sense and then you were back,” Jungkook whimpered.

Jimin sighed. Jungkook had never been a genius with words, but normally he was better than that. He knows that Jungkook is mortified, Jungkook wasn’t good at mingling or recovering from blunders of the social variety. So, Jimin just sighed and gave his boyfriend a gentle kiss.

“It’s okay Jungkook, Y/N isn’t gonna hold this against you,” Jimin soothed.

“I just feel terrible,” Jungkook said softly.

“Why? It was an accident,” Jimin reasoned.

“Because I-I didn’t want her to stop,” he swallowed. Jimin bit his lip and tried to keep his anger from spilling over.

“I don’t know how many times we have to talk about this Jungkook,” Jimin said.

“We were talking about it in the car! But we’ve never talked about what we want, what we’re doing now, it's not sustainable. I’m going crazy!” Jungkook yelled.

“Jungkook keep your voice down!” Jimin reminded.

“Jimin I’m so fucking confused, I don’t know what we’re doing. What I’m doing. I-I do know one thing for certain. I love those kids, so much, and they aren’t even here yet. I love them so much, because they’re ours... But... I can’t keep doing this. Getting closer only to rip myself away, it’s killing me Jimin. If you want me to walk away, I will but, I just can’t keep giving myself hope when there isn’t any,” Jungkook cried, tears falling down his cheeks.

“I-I didn’t know you were so broken up over this,” Jimin whispered.

“I’m so confused,” Jungkook whispered.

“I am too, I love you so much but... I feel this connection to her. I know it’s normal to be grateful, but, I know it’s more than that with her,” Jimin said, moving to give Jungkook a back hug.

“Then we need to make a decision,” Jungkook said.

“You want to pursue her as a part of our couple? Like, make her our girlfriend?” Jimin asked.

“Do you?” Jungkook asked back.

“I mean... I wouldn’t be opposed,” Jimin said softly.

“I don’t want this if you don’t,” Jungkook said, turning to look at Jimin with sparkling eyes.

“I want this... I want her, but, we need to give her some time, as well as ourselves to come to terms with this,” Jimin reasoned.

“Okay,” Jungkook agreed.

“But, when we’re both ready, we can approach her,” Jimin said.

“Would this be healthy to do? I mean, mentally,” Jungkook asked.

“Polygamous couples generally tend to have better communication than the average two person couples. And with one of us being a therapist I think we could manage. I-I want to work towards that,” Jimin confessed.

“I want this too,” Jungkook said excitedly.

“Then that’s what we’ll do...”

You laid in bed late into the night. You heard Jungkook and Jimin having a disagreement. You couldn’t make out the words but, the walls were thin... You prayed to God that it wasn’t about you, or anything related to the children.

Slowly, your hand trailed down to your stomach. You didn’t think you could see a bump yet, but maybe a little something? You weren’t sure, maybe it was just wishful thinking.

You moved slightly, and you felt something in your underwear. Adjusting lightly, you pulled them down to look, and you saw a decent amount of arousal soaking into the cotton fabric. Blushing bright red you reached down to touch your hot center, to find that you were, in fact, dripping wet.

Biting your lip you thought back on the bathroom incident. Jungkook’s firm body pressed against yours, his hardened cock pressed against your ass, the hot groan he let out. Running your fingers over your slit, you gathered your slick and pushed against your clit gently.

Shockwaves of pleasure ripped through you at the sensation.

“Oh!” You gasped, hand coming up to cover your mouth in fear of waking the boys.

You did it again, causing your body to jump slightly, making more of your arousal drip from your center. Licking your lips you thought about what Jungkook’s hands would feel like instead of yours. What his body would feel like pressed up against yours naked... Jimin’s plump lips flashed through your mind for a second, making you wonder what his blond head would look like between-

No!

No no no no no!

Ripping your hand away from your weeping core you turned over and placed your hands on your head.

How could you? Those two weren’t something to fuel your lonely fantasies! They are in love with each other, and are going to have a family... Albeit you had to help with that part but, still. Jimin and Jungkook weren’t yours... They were each other’s...

But as much as you tried to tell yourself that it would never happen...

You couldn’t help but dream of the two men’s hands running over your body...

Hot breaths touching your ears...

Taglist: @kittkat44, @giadalin, @kookachuwu

If you want to be added to the taglist, just shoot me an ask!

[the-insomniac-emporium]

Everybody Talks Too Much (Cassandra Dimitrescu/Mute!Reader)

Fandom: Resident Evil: Village Rating: T for language, brief violence Summary: Whenever Cassandra gets angry, no one wants to deal with her. Well, no one but you, that is. Thankfully, the middle child appreciates your company... not that she'd ever admit it. Notes: Another self-indulgent fic with a selectively mute reader. This one's a lil different. Sections in italic are mostly indications that the reader is miming actions in order to communicate, though there are a few internal thoughts that are marked as such. Unlike the past two I've done, this takes place pre-relationship, so there's some mutual pining of sorts. I think that's the word.

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

Among the many servants of Castle Dimitrescu, there were a number of secret rules to be followed. Guidelines that were never written down, only spoken in hushed whispers, for specific (and dangerous) circumstances. Most could be divided into one of two categories: 1, how to reduce the chances of a Lady of the house killing someone. 2, how to make sure that if they kill someone, it will not be you. Of these rules, there was one that you knew best of all, despite never having been told it. Why? Because you have observed it time and time again. After all, the rule revolved around you. To put it plainly… If Cassandra Dimitrescu was in an awful mood, but had yet to draw blood, send in the mute.

Even now, as you rushed down a corridor, you did not know why this rule was in place. You simply knew that you had been summoned countless times by frantic maidens, to go serve their volatile mistress. Admittedly you did understand their eagerness to thrust the task upon someone else. Cassandra was often considered the deadliest of the Dimitrescu daughters, for she was the quickest to anger, the one with the deepest bloodlust, and took the longest to calm down. Personally, you disagreed, believing that it wasn’t terribly hard to know what she did and did not like. All it took was some observation. It was Daniela who scared you, seeing as she was unpredictable. She didn’t even need to be in a bad mood to want to kill you.

Of course, that didn’t necessarily mean that you saw no danger in working with Cassandra. In fact, you saw a fair bit, such as now: Right as you round the corner, a shiny object hurls past your head, embedding itself into the wall. Had you been walking ever so slightly faster… Well, you preferred not to dwell on such things, especially not when the one who threw the thing was still nearby. Based on the howling laughter and swarm of insects that moves around you, the intended target was Lady Daniela. Across the room is the markswoman herself; Cassandra stood tall, huffing in anger, staring at the spot her sister had just vacated from.

“Damn it!” She yelled, stomping her foot as if the resulting shockwave might do what her weapon had not. Oddly amused, you’re quick to remove the sickle from the wall, careful as to not damage it. It’s a tad dirty, but nothing you can’t fix with your handy pocket cloth. Cleaning as you walk, you slowly move towards your employer, not even bothering to spare her a glance. After all, you had your own rules for dealing with her.

(1: Avoid eye contact for at least one minute after an outburst.)

By the time you make it to Cassandra, the minute has come and gone, allowing you to ever-so politely look her in the eyes when you return her blade. She scoffs, then practically rips the sickle from your hands. This was your job, however, so you made no complaints. Not that you could, at least not verbally. Instead, you gave a short bow of acknowledgement. Afterwards you stood still, awaiting either instructions or a dismissal. Neither came.

“I can’t believe that little shit tried to take my favorite dagger and thought she could get away with it! Agh, the nerve of her! Can you believe this?” Cassandra snapped, turning to you as if you might agree with her. Nod, simple yet effective. “At least you know how to handle a blade. Damn Daniela is lucky she didn’t get any scratches on mine.” Then she pulls the knife in question from its place on her belt, letting it gleam in the light. A soft exhale, head tipping to the side, wow is it pretty. So is the one holding it. Your mind wanders but your gaze does not. Always polite, always ready to serve.

(2: Do not get distracted; she is no patient lover, rather a demanding boss.)

“Cassandra! What was all that noise a minute ago?” Someone called, interrupting your ‘conversation’. The speaker soon appears, being none other than Lady Bela, the most reasonable of the castle residents. Though that meant little, considering the nature of her family. As if to prove your point, Cassandra merely rolls her eyes in reply, refusing to divulge the truth. And so Bela turned her gaze to you, perking a brow. “Feeling up to talking today?” She asked, already knowing the answer. Of course, your hands are already moving, not even waiting for her to finish speaking. This is a game you know intimately.

A hand goes to your belt, moving to pull a nonexistent blade from its sheath. Raising it, moving it forward then back several times, launching it towards the wall- towards the hole left behind. Then shifting, waving your hand in front of your face while exhaling a sharp breath. Flinching. An exaggerated gulp, pretending to check if your nose is still attached, sighing in relief. Lastly, an inclination of your head towards the culprit. Cassandra.

“I was aiming for Daniela. Not that it matters, nobody got hurt,” she stated, confident. Both hands clasped together, then tapping the palms together, mimicking a heartbeat at a reasonable pace. Suddenly a stomp. The beating stops, and you hold your hands next to your ear, as if listening for signs of life. Pause. Three seconds. Worried expression, eyes wide. Finally, fast as a gunshot, the heart beats again, wildly. At this, Bela shoots her sister a look of doubt, as well as judgement. Hoping to change the subject, Cassandra looks to you. “What are you doing here anyway?”

Rubbing your chin, thinking. Squinting for effect. Ah, got it! Both hands go to your sides, lifting the imaginary hem of a dress you aren’t wearing. Waltzing forward, yet in place, with the poise expected of a professional maid. Then the focus shifts to your face. Fear. A silent scream, a hand at your forehead, feeling like you… might… faint. Falling backwards, making a step at the very last second to prevent a real collapse. End scene.

“Someone was scared?” Bela asked, sounding uncharacteristically unsure of herself. When you nod, she does as well, considering the implications. “Why would they send you?”

“I hardly care why, I just want to know who so I can kick their ass,” Cassandra interjects, taking a step closer to you. All you do in response is shrug. Unsurprisingly this is not enough to please her, and before you know it she’s wrapped a hand around your throat. “Give. Me. A. Name. Now.” A perked brow. Thoughts practically telegraphed. ‘What do you expect?’ Opening your mouth, slightly, then wide, back to almost closed. No sound comes out. Obviously. It’s not like you wanted to break your own rule, but in this case you had no choice.

(3: Give her whatever she wants, consequences be damned.)

Luckily for you, Bela acts as a foil to Cassandra, there to smooth the seas. Moving behind you, she reaches into your back pocket and retrieves the notepad you keep there. Then she’s handing it to you while making eye contact with her sister. Cassandra promptly releases you, though she’s clearly not pleased, going so far as to push you away in one last act of anger. Internally you roll your eyes. On the outside, however, you quickly write down everything you know… which isn’t much.

“I don’t remember who it was. A lot of people have asked. This happens a lot.” Then you hand the paper to Bela, who soon looks back up at you in confusion. Too antsy to wait for her own turn, Cassandra yoinks the notepad from her sister’s hands, reading it over several times before reacting.

“What the fuck? Why would they send you to me because somebody pissed their pants in fear? I’m going to kill someone. Ugh, I don’t- this doesn’t make any goddamn sense,” Cassandra ranted, pacing back and forth, looking like she wanted to destroy something immediately. To your surprise, Bela doesn’t look the slightest bit concerned. If anything, she looks amused, and smiles when the two of you make eye contact. Something tells you that she knows something that you don’t. Before you can react, she quietly retrieves your notepad and returns it to you. Then she pauses, thinking, eying you with curiosity.

“Why don’t you go for now? See if anyone thanks you for stepping in, hmm?” She suggested, tone implying that this was absolutely about something else entirely. Still, you don’t care to disobey, and so you bid the two of them farewell with a deep bow. As you leave, you can almost make out part of what they say next. But you’re certain that you must have heard incorrectly. “Showing your favoritism a little too much, sister? If even the servants can see it-” the rest of the sentence is cut off by angry muttering from Cassandra. After that you’re too far away to hear anymore. What a strange day...

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

“Hey, you know where Lady Cassandra’s room is, right?” Ygritte asked, casually, definitely not having just been told by someone else that you were the solution to her problem. Pretending that you were unaware of this, you give her a smile and a nod. Later, behind her back, you will mentally add her to your list of people to watch out for. Maybe even decide to refuse to share your biscuits with her. In the meantime, you pretend that you don’t mind whatever task she’s about to dump on you. “Can you bring these books to her? I really have to get back to the kitchen soon, and that’s in the opposite direction…”

Technically true. Something told you that the real problem was that Cassandra had been extra loud the past few days. Regardless, you accept the books from her, leaving before she even finishes thanking you. Why do people do this? I don’t get it, you think. It’s like they think I’m immune to her rage. If that were true, I’d gladly throw myself between her and others. But no, that’s not the case. Hmmph, if only they saw my scars. Shaking your head to clear your thoughts, you keep walking, subconsciously rubbing the spot on your arm where Cassandra had cut you. Well, the worst spot. Being pain tolerant had made her take interest in you, during your first few weeks, but it’s what allowed you to learn her rules. Your rules, really.

Knock. Knock. A pause… three more, much softer. The door swings open, revealing your Lady, whose eyes widen at the sight of you. Tipping your hat (which you are not wearing), you greet her, forcing another smile. Then you present the books, free hand gesturing with a spiral motion towards them. She doesn’t respond. No, wait, she glances at the door hinges, considering closing the door in your face. Now both of you are staring at each other, daring the other to move.

“You’re not supposed to be here,” she finally said. There’s a gruffness to her voice that you hadn’t expected. It’s unlike her usual tone, less angry, more tired. Were those bags under her eyes?... No, just smudged makeup. “Don’t just stand there- tell me why you’re here.” Again, you gesture to the books, extending your hands further towards her. This time she takes a half-step backwards to avoid you. Peculiar. “Someone else was supposed to bring them, dipshit. Fucking hell, why can’t anyone around here do their damn jobs?” At last, she takes the books from you, carrying them deeper into your room. Though she does not close the door, you assume that your job is done. Or maybe you simply do not wish to deal with a Cassandra who’s frustrated by your specific presence. Either way, it breaks one of your rules, though you do not remember until it is too late.

(4: Do not leave until dismissed by a member of the family.)

“Where the hell are you going?” The sound of buzzing flies, a blur of motion around you, then the form of Cassandra solidifying in front of you. One of her hands is raised, pressing against the center of your chest. She pushes you, hard, making you stumble backwards into her room. Next thing you know you’ve crashed onto her floor. A tad stunned, you bring a hand up to hold your head, blinking rapidly for a few seconds. There’s the sound of a door closing, and then someone’s trying to help you stand. “I didn’t say you could leave yet. Now c’mon, I’ve got stuff for you to do.” Then she’s guiding you to her bed, making you sit down on the end. Panicked thoughts race through your mind one after another. What exactly was she intending? Thankfully you don’t have to wait long to find out. “Read through these, and-” a pause, like she hadn’t known what she was going to say until she was already speaking- “take notes. Make a summary of the bookmarked sections, or whatever.” Handing you a couple books (neither of which being ones you had just brought to her), she sits on the other side of the bed, refusing to look at you. She does, however, say one last thing, voice barely above a whisper. “Just stay for a while, okay?”

Inside your head, you make a mental note to amend your list of rules.

(4.b: Do not leave until dismissed by a member of the family. If Cassandra asks you to stay, you stay, no matter what. It’s worth it.)

[6okuto-moved]

THE RIME’S NSFW HEADCANONS XVCEBFJXZEJCXKSCVJSC you killed me and i’m thankful for it. Now: what about some protective!rime headcanons? Mc and him are still frenemies and he doesn’t want to admit that he care about mc and like their company and that he is pining hard but then someone hurt mc really bad👀 not only he need to take care of them but he want revenge too👀

— protective rime hcs when mc is injured

THERE WAS ANOTHER PROTECTIVE RIME ASK . please i accidentally deleted it before getting the screenshot anon i saw u. rime brainrot. why do i keep putting myself/mc through this this took too long heplppdmgkj

i need them to give me my rime frenemy/pining arc already

rime refuses to admit that every time he helps mc it's because he cares and blames it on some other reason of "i'm not getting your little friends upset" or "i need you to do something for me" or "why would i let you embarrass yourself when i'm going to be seen with you?"

but mc about to run into someone and rime pulling them into him

he spots someone staring and stands in their line of sight before putting his arm around mc's waist and walking somewhere else, sending a glare in the person's direction

he sees mc reaching for something dangerous and smacks their hand away or pulls them back

rime shushing mc and pulling them behind him because he can hear something coming

now mc. coming back already injured. and rime is the one who greets them as they fall to the floor exhausted

protective rime looks so hot. like okay he's already hot but angry rime? not being angry at mc but someone else? for mc?

"what the hell happened?" "what does it look like, asshole?" "shut up. can you stand? fuck—" he realizes how serious it looks

"is it that bad?"

rime notices how similar this sounds to what he said to felix before he died, and he's panicking even more despite trying to cover it up, "yeah, you look like shit."

mc can't really notice it but his hands are a little shaky and his jaw is clenched while he tries to stop the bleeding because he's not a healer anymore.

rime ends up staying near them the entire time mc is healing unless he's bringing something for them

"you don't have to watch me." "yes i do." "you can get someone else to check on me later" "i'd love to, but they're all busy. shut up and eat your soup"

not a single person was too busy to take over

once they're a little better he asks who it was

"why?" "what do you mean why? so i can pay them a visit."

👁️👁️

"you don't have to go fight in my honour." "i was actually going to congratulate them for kicking your ass." "yeah, sure you were."

it doesn't matter if mc tells him or not because rime will figure it out. even if it means figuring out where they went originally that day, following the blood backwards, asking whoever was around what they saw, using magic

like he's pissed. all he can think about is the amount of blood on his hands while he was helping mc and the look on their face when they asked how bad it was. how it probably mirrored what his own was like

he eventually finds them and angry rime. isn't a welcoming looking person, even less so than usual. so they try to make a run for it (they don't make it far, obviously)

rime cutting them off, his eyes having a gleam and him spinning his staff. he glares and cocks his head to the side, "where the fuck do you think you're going?"

nooo rime don't be overcome by rage. noooo don't take care of them with a grin on your face as if it was easy, as if they were a bug on the wall.

nooo don't put the blade to their throat as you stand over them and say "you're pathetic. don't fucking touch them." haha noooo

here to remind you that rime's crimes consist of theft, murder, and torture. and this guy decided to fuck with the one person he likes. as if rime wasn't a second away from Killing escell for what happened to felix. when felix was the one who Jumped In The Way.

mc asking where rime was since he had been out all day and the M3 saying they didn't know, just that he said he had to fix some split ends somewhere. "maybe he went to go beat someone up," sage teases. mc realizes immediately what was going on

mc really realizing what was going on when rime eventually came back with blood stuck to his clothes

rime asking "how did you even lose against that guy? did you get even weaker than you already are?"

"how did you even lose against that guy?" roughly translates into "i fucked him up and i know you could have to. i know you're stronger than this" and mc can't help but look away like damn . ok

rime leaves with them the next few times they have to go out . just in case

[totallysharkycomplete]

Waiting For You Part Five (Ford Pines x Reader) What’s Lost Isn’t Forgotten

“Brother!” Stan calls and walks towards Ford. Ford unexpectedly punches him in the face and begins arguing with him.

She takes a step forward and calls Ford’s name. He looks over at her and his face turns to disbelief, and he lets go of Stan.

He whispers her name. “Is it really you?” All she can do is nod and she runs forwards to hug him. He lifts her and spends her around. “I can’t believe it.” He sets her down and moves his hands to cup her face to pull her up for a kiss. “It really is you.”

Their tender moment was interrupted by Mabel.

She pulls away from Ford, red in the face, having forgotten the kids and Soos were even down here.

Ford is introduced to Mabel, then Dipper who freaks out. He spouts off about how he has so many questions and mentions how he can’t believe you’re married to the author of the journals.

She sits and listens to their whole ‘mysterious backstory’ as Mabel calls it. Enjoying hearing the story from both sides. After the whole situation was over Stan sent the kids off to bed.

She walked them upstairs to give the brothers some time alone to talk. Dipper bombarded her with questions that she happily answered. “No more secrets from me, promise.” She used her finger to cross her heart.

She tucked Dipper into bed then Mabel. “Thank you, Mable.” She smiled sweetly as Mabel looked confused.

“For what?” Mabel askes.

“You said you’d find me a boyfriend by the end of the summer, and if it weren’t for you I wouldn’t have my boyfriend back.” She smiles as Mabel's eyes grow wide, as does her smile.

“Thank you too, Dipper. If you had never found the journal we wouldn’t have been able to get him back either. I’ll make sure you get to ask him plenty of questions soon, alright?” She promised and wished them a goodnight.

She comes back down the stairs to see the two brothers arguing and frowns as Stan storms away from him. Walking up to Ford she wraps her arms around him and he does the same. She breathes a sigh of relief.

“I’ve missed you so much,” she whispers.

“I’ve missed you too, more than I can say with words.” He leans down to kiss her forehead.

“Let’s go to sleep.” She takes his hand and starts walking to the bed room.

He turns to go into his old room but she stops him. “There’s no bed in there anymore. When I, um, we lost you, it was too painful to stay in there alone.”

He nods in understanding and follows her to her room. She closes the door behind her and he pulls her into another hug. “Did you really wait for me? For thirty years?”

“Oh course I did, Stanford.” She looks up at him concerned.

“It’s just that, you could have started a new life. You could have had a family.” His face is sad, almost guilty.

“I didn’t want to, Ford. Not without you.” She brought her hand to show him the ring he gave her. “You’re my family.”

He only nods before leaning down to kiss her. She leans into the kiss but feels tears begin to fall from her eyes, overwhelmed with emotions. Pulling away she wipes her cheeks, but sees that Ford is crying as well. They lock eyes and laugh, both wiping at their tears.

“We’ve both had a very emotional day. Let’s go to sleep.” She walks over to the dresser and digs around for a moment. “These are yours.” She states. “I’m not sure they’ll still fit though you look… More built.” She smirks.

He takes the clothes from her and watches and she begins to change into her night shirt. His eyes can’t pull away as she pulls her shirt over her head. She’s still as beautiful as the day he disappeared, but her body is different. It’s softer, with more age lines, but he feels awestruck by her beauty.

“Ford, you’re staring.” She looks embarrassed. “I know I’m not as young and fit as I was but-”

“You’re absolutely stunning. You look different, but in the most amazing way possible.” He assures her.

She nodded and finished changing. Her face turned mischievous as she looked at him. “Now it’s my turn to watch.”

He can’t help the heat that rises to his cheeks. “Uh, right.” He sits down and takes off his boots, and stands to remove his sweater. “Listen, I… The dimensions I visited weren't always friendly. I have some scars.”

“Ford, it’s alright. I expected as much.” She lays a reassuring hand on his shoulder.

She thought he would have scars, but didn't expect so many. “Oh, Ford.” She whimpers.

Almost his entire torso is covered in scars. She lays a hand over his peck and runs her fingers over one long scar. He sighs at her touch. “I’m so sorry,” she sniffs.

He takes her hand from his chest and raises it to his lips to kiss it. “Don’t think too much of it. For every hostile being I meet, there were just as many friendly ones who helped patch me up.” He slips his shirt on over his head, finding it just a little tight, but would work for the night.

She climbs into bed, with Ford right behind her, and snuggles close to him. He wraps his arms around her and holds her tight. “I love you, goodnight.”

“I love you, Ford. I’m so glad you’re back.” She yawns before falling asleep.

He wakes up from a nightmare and looks around the room. Although a little unfamiliar he knows he’s home. Looking at his side he sees his love gone from his side. His heart still beating fast from his dream he starts to panic, and calls her name.

Right as he does she walks back into the room and closes the door. “What’s wrong?” She quickly makes her way over to him. “I’m sorry, I was just in the bathroom. Are you alright?” Sitting back on the bed she pulls him close to her.

He sighs at the touch. “Just a bad dream is all. Have them quite frequently.”

“You can always wake me up, okay?” She coos, and kisses him on the shoulder. “Can you go back to sleep or do you need to stay up for a minute?”

He can’t help as a yawn escapes him. “I can sleep.”

They cuddle back together, but she stays awake until she is sure he’s asleep.

When she wakes up the sun is shining in through the curtains. She can feel the even breaths Ford is breathing under her cheek.

She shifts her head to look up at his sleeping face. Examining all the details that are the same, and how it’s changed. He still has a strong jawline, if not stronger. The hair on his head is graying, much like hers, and he has wrinkles under and beside his eyes.

She cant help herself from reaching up and running her hand across the stubble on his jaw. His eyes are still closed but he smiles.

He takes her hand and kisses it. “Good morning.”

She responds by moving off his chest up to his mouth to kiss him. “It’s a very good morning.” He kisses her back. “Maybe the best morning ever.”

He chuckles and she can feel his chest rumble under her hand. “I couldn’t agree more.”

Running her thumb over his stubble she smiles. “I can’t believe you got more handsome.” Ford’s cheeks turn red and he looks away. She laughs. “I see you’re still just as bashful.”

“I was just thinking the same thing about you.” He pulls her into another kiss, then another, and another. Sitting up, he pulls her into his lap. Now it’s her turn to blush.

There’s a knock on the door and Mabel’s voice sounds from the other side. She calls her name, but adds ‘Graunt’ in front of it. “Grunkle Stan is taking us to the diner! He said if you wanna come be in the car in five minutes or we’re leaving you!” Then her footsteps are heard running down the stairs.

Ford looks down at the woman in his lap. Her hand is held over her mouth, but he can see the impossibly wide smile behind it. “She called me her graunt…” Her heart feels so impossibly full from the simple word.

“Well you technically are.” Ford chuckles. “That seems to mean a lot to you. You must really care for those two.”

She nods. “Ford, they are such incredible kids. I’m excited for you to get to know them more. Dipper reminds me so much of you.” Ford frowns, and it doesn’t go unnoticed. “What’s wrong?”

“When Stan and I were talking last night, well, it was more of arguing, he told me he wanted me to stay away from the kids. I agreed. I also told him he can stay here until the end of the summer with the kids, but after he has to leave, and all this Mystery Shack nonsense ends.” He informs her.

“I, but Ford…” She was unsure what to say. It all seemed so unfair, so she decided to tell him. “That seems unfair to me.” She moved to sit on her knees next to him and took his hand in hers. “I might be being selfish but I just got you back, and now you want Stan to leave? We worked so hard to bring you back, Ford, and while you were gone Stan took care of me.” She sighs. “I, Ford, I was ready to give up but he wouldn’t let me. The only reason he opened the shack was to get money. I was spending every second of every day in the basement. Stan made sure I ate, and slept. He made sure I was taken care of.”

Ford scans her face. “Were you two…” He can’t finish his thought, but she gets what he means.

She can’t help but laugh. “Ford, you’re brother and I were nothing more than friends.” She thinks for a second. “We kissed once and it was terrible,” she laughs again. “But beside you, Ford, he’s my best friend, and your brother. All I’m asking is that you just think about reconsidering.”

His face is stern but he nods. “I’ll think about it.”

“That’s all I ask.” She kisses him. There’s a squeal of car tires from outside signaling Stan and the kids are gone. “So how would you like to spend the rest of the morning?” She smirks.

“Well, I’d like to check on the portal, and my experiments.” He says thinking aloud.

She laughs and moves to straddle his lap, moving her hands to his chest, and kissing his collar bone. “I was thinking we could make up for lost time.”

“I like that idea much more.” He pulls her close.

----------

It’s midday when they make their way down into the lab. As Stan requested, Ford avoids the kids.

They stand in front of the portal.

“This was such a risky move.” He says without thinking.

“It was a risk I had to take.” She doesn’t apologize.

“I’m…” he wraps her in a hug. “I appreciate you getting me home, I really do. I thought I’d never see you again. However,” he looks back up at the portal. “We have to destroy this.”

She agrees and they get to work.

They have the portal about halfway deconstructed when one of the higher up panels starts to sway. Ford notices it moving and looks up, right as it breaks away and begins to fall. She is standing right below it.

“Watch out!” Ford dives towards her and pushes her out of the way, the metal panel making contact directly with his head and he falls to the ground motionless.

“Ford?” A small pool of blood has begun collecting around his head. “Oh my god Ford!” She yells and shakes his shoulder to stir him.

Tears begin to form in her eyes right as he opens his eyes. He looks at her and smiles.

“Ford?” She asks again.

He sits up and grabs his head. “Are you alright?” He asks.

She looks at him in disbelief before moving to check where his head is wounded. “Are you insane? I’m fine, you’re the one who's bleeding!”

“Hey, hey!” He takes her face in his hands forcing her to make eye contact. “I’m alright really, look.” Ford knocks on his head next to where he’s bleeding and there is a loud metallic banging.

She’s still looking at his eyes wide with confusion.

“A had a metal plate installed in my head that way Bill could never enter my mind again. It’s just a little cut, promise I’m alright.” He brushes a tear away from her cheek.

“God, Ford,” she sniffs. “I just got you back. I thought I was going to lose you again.” She pulls him in for a hug, not worrying about the blood that seeps down onto her sleeve.

“You can’t get rid of me that easily.” He jokes and she lightly smacks his shoulder.

She pulls away from the hug to give him a passionate kiss, which he is happy to return.

“Come on, let’s get you cleaned up.” She takes his hand and pulls him up. His balance wavers and he grabs onto her shoulder. She helps him sit down in a chair and hurries back with the first aid kit, which she always made sure was well stocked with how much Stan hurt himself.

She begins cleaning his head wound. “You really have to be more careful.” She can’t help but scold him. One hand holds his cheek steady, he doesn’t move and Ford leans into her touch.

“I’d rather I get hurt over you anyday.” He doesn’t apologize.

“I just got you back.” She sighs.

Ford brings his hand up to caress one on his cheek. “I just got you back as well.” He reminds her.

She pauses, not having really thought of it that way, then continues cleaning his wound. “I guess even after all this time we are both just as hard headed.”

When she's done stitching his cut shut she kisses the top of his head for good measure. “There, that should be good as long as you don’t take any more metal panels to the head.”

He beams up at her. “How did you get so good at that?”

“Stan hurt himself a lot while we were working on the portal. I got used to stitching him up since it was faster and cheaper than going to the hospital every other day.” She gives him a sad smile. “Although you were a lot less whiny than Stan normally is.”

He hums in thought. “Maybe taking a break from the portal for a minute would be a good idea.”

“I agree. I’m going to go change out of this bloody shirt first.” She motions down at her blood soaked sleeve.

He grabs her arm as she begins to walk away. She can see the uncertainty on his face. Leaning down she places a gentle kiss to his lips.

“I’m only going upstairs. I won’t be far.” She looks into his eyes and he nods. “Plus I'm sure you brought back some experiments you need to check on.

She makes her way upstairs and almost makes it to her room before she bumps into Stan.

“Geez, kid, watch where you’re-” He stops talking and grimaces at the blood on her sleeve.”

She looks down and realizes what the problem is. “Oh, don’t worry it’s not mine.”

Stan’s face doesn’t look any less concerned.

“Ford’s fine too, just a little accident. You know how it goes.” She can’t help but laugh.

Stan grumbles something then walks away. An unusually harsh treatment from her normally warm best friend. She brushes it off though and quickly changes. When She’s back downstairs she finds everyone hanging out in the gift shop.

She greets them but only Mable acknowledges her. Stan’s head shoved deep in a newspaper and Dipper’s in Ford’s journal. There’s a moment of silence before Ford bursts out of his lab with a weird octopus-like creature stuck to his arm.

She tries to keep Dipper and Mable behind her for safety but they both peer around her eager to see their new Grunkle. Ford captures the creature easily enough and starts to head back to the lab, but Dipper’s right on his trail offering to help.

Ford turns down his offer before closing the door. Stan gives Dipper a lecture about staying away from Ford.

Dipper points at his newly titled Graunt. “But she gets to spend time with him and do dangerous stuff.”

She frowns. “Dipper, I’m an adult and have been doing this for a long time.”

“You’re still going to watch the season finale of Duck-Tective with us Friday, right?” Mabel checks.

“Absolutely. I wouldn’t miss it for the world.”

The next week is spent helping Ford disassemble the portal and helping Stan with the shack. She getting ready for bed when Ford comes into the room beaming and gabbing about playing DD&MD that day.

She smiles and sits on the bed. “I’m glad you're spending time with him. He reminds me so much of you.” her smile falls for a second. “But didn’t Stan ask you to stay away from the kids?”

Ford is taking his boots off and he freezes and thinks. “Stan will just have to get over himself.”

She sighs and lays back onto the bed. “I know you and Stan didn’t have the best relationship before you went into the portal, and I knew it wouldn’t be magically fixed when we got you back, but I did hope it would be a little bit better.” She feels the bed shift as Ford sits next to her.

“Mine and Stan’s relationship has been complicated for a long time. Him bringing me back isn’t going to fix it overnight.” He places his hand on hers.

“I know but,” she sits up with a huff. “I feel like neither of you are trying. When summer ends I don’t want to lose my best friend. Stan means a lot to me, and he’s your brother. I wish you would both just try.

Ford looks almost mad for a second before his face softens. “Come here.” He pulls her into his lap. “For you, I’ll try. Promise… Well… I’ll at least try to be civil.”

She looks at him with a pout before she buries her head in the crook of his neck. “Fine.” She whines with a yawn.

The next day she's ready to watch the season finale of Duck-Tective with Mabel, Stan, and Grenda. She smiles to see Ford is sitting cross legged on the ground playing DD&MD just like they did in college and spending time with his great nephew. However her smile fades when Stan and Ford begin to argue. The argument turns for the worst when Stan throw Ford’s bag on dice on to the ground and causes them to scatter. Then they have to go on a ridiculous fantastic quest to save Dipper and Ford.

Afterwards Stan apologizes to Dipper and it warms her heart. He even says it's okay if Dipper spends time with Ford. She was a little disappointed Ford didn’t join them to watch Their show but she understood. After it was over Dipper went to find Ford.

She sat at the table with Stan to have a drink.

“You were very sweet today.” She almost teases Stan.

“Think you got me mistaken with someone else.” Stan grunts as he sits.

“No, the fact you changed your mind to let Dipper spend time with Ford is really sweet. I don’t think I have to tell you how similar they are. Plus I think it’ll be nice that Dipper can ask him questions himself instead of him asking me to ask Ford questions.” She smiles over her glass at Stan.

Stan frowns deepens. “Didn’t do it for Ford. Did it for Dipper. Ford still hasn’t told me thank you, and I haven’t forgotten.”

She groans. “Why do you two have to be like this?!” She almost shouts. “You’re both so stubborn and hard headed. If you two could just sit down and talk about your feelings like real adults I don’t think we’d have a problem.”

“Not until he tells me thank you!” Stan raises his voice back.

She slams her hand on the table and stands up. “He hasn’t even told me thank you, Stan! He’s appreciative to be home but he’s still upset we risked this whole universe for him!”

Stan stands up and opens his mouth to say something but closes it. He is absolutely fuming as he storms away from you.

She stands there for a second more before sitting back down with her face in her hands. Quiet tears fall down her face and she cries alone for a few minutes. Then she feels a hand on her back.

“Darling, are you crying? What’s wrong?” Ford’s warm, wide hand begins to stroke reassuring circles on her back.

She wraps her arms around his neck and brings him in for a hug. “I’ve just had a lot of big emotions this week. Think they’ve finally caught back up to me at once.” She’s not lying, she's had a lot of emotions to work through this week, but she doesn’t want to mention arguing with Stan. It would just make everything worse.

“Why don’t we get you to bed.” Ford suggests and she nods silently.

She tries to stand, but before she can Ford picks her up bridal style bringing a smile to her face. “Ford, I can walk.”

He kisses her forehead. “I know. But you’ve done so much for me, let me?” He wants to be sure it’s okay. She nods and falls asleep in his arms before they reach their room.

----------

Ford sits up from a nightmare which draws her from her sleep as well. Before she can even ask what’s wrong he tells her.

“We have to warn them. He’s coming.”

----------

“You gave her what?” She shouts at Ford once he tells her about his meeting with Dipper and Mable.

“Was that… was that bad?” Ford’s face flushes red.

“Stanford you gave a twelve year old a crossbow!” She stares at him in disbelief. “Would you or Stanley have been able to use one at twelve?”

Ford thinks for a second and opens his mouth and thinks better of it.

She sighs. “I’ll just go with them to make sure they’re safe.” She srumbles together her things and tosses on a bag. She's about to walk out the door without saying anything when Ford grabs her arm.

“Let’s not part ways angry.” His eyes look over her face and he looks so unbelievably caring.

She sighs and pulls him into a kiss. “I’m not angry, I’m just worried about Mabel. She sometimes doesn't have the best judgment of character. Did I tell you she dated the gnomes at the beginning of summer?”

He laughs against her lips. “I understand you’re worried.” He pauses and thinks for a moment. “I’m worried too. Last time I encountered Bill he drove me away from you. I can’t let that happen again.”

She gives him another kiss. “I know you won’t.”

Later she returns with the girls to the shack, beaten and bruised.

Ford gives her a kiss and congratulates them on getting the unicorn hair. Dipper helps them glue the unicorn hair to the outside of the shack. Ford wraps his arm around her shoulder and she can’t but feel a little bit safer.

----------

She stares at the rift. “Ford it’s….”

He sighs and places his hand on her shoulder. “I’m aware.”

“You didn’t tell me?” She looks at him hurt.

“I didn’t keep it from you to keep it secret. I just didn’t want you to worry.” He sighs.

“But I could help. Ford I just got you back and now it feels like the world is about to end. I can’t lose you again.” He places her hand on top of his.

“Nor I you.” He looks in her eyes then looks away and clears his throat. “I was hoping that, um…” Ford searches his brain for the right words.

“Ford you know I’ll do anything for you, just ask.” She smiles sweetly at him.

“Well, I don’t need you to do anything for me. I was just hoping you’d do something with me.” He wraps his arms around her and rests his forehead on her. “When all this nonsense with Bill is done, I’d really like to finally marry you.”

She laughs. She cannot help it, but she laughs. Ford looks almost hurt. Her hands come up to cup her face and bring him in for a kiss. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t laugh. I just can't believe you were worried about asking me that. I’ve waited thirty year for you, of course I’m going to marry you.”

He smiles against her lips before bringing her back in for another kiss. “I’m the luckiest man alive to have you for a wife.”

“I’m the luckiest woman alive.”

----------

She runs after Mabel as soon as she runs from the shack, but by the time she reaches her, Bill has already been released into reality.

“Mabel no!” She screams as she watches the small girl suspended in the air as she gets wrapped in a bubble and chains and flown away.

“Well, well, well, well, well, well, well. Look what we have here! If it isn’t peace sign herself!” A voice behind her booms.

She turns around, already sure of who the voice belongs to. “Bill.”

“In the flesh!” He confirms as the yellow on his triangle opens and closes, revealing flesh and bones.

She turns and tries to run back to the shack, but is stopped as she is suspended in the air.

“Not so fast peace sign! I think you’d be a useful pawn against my dear friend six fingers!” Bill snaps his fingers and she is encased in a bubble similar to the one that carried Mabel away. “Can't have anything happening to you!” The bubble begins to move and flies to Bill’s Fearamid.

Bill keeps her behind bars. She sits and watches helplessly as people she knows from town are brought in one by one, turned to stone, and placed on Bill’s throne. She silently wishes Bill would have done the same to her, to spare her the awful reality in which she has to witness all this awful weirdness. But she knows that’s probably exactly why Bill didn’t turn her to stone, to make her suffer.

She won’t give up hope yet. She knows as long as Ford is out there fighting, there is still hope. That hope is quickly shattered as she watches Bill set Ford by his throne.

“Hey peace sign! Like my new back scratcher?!” He cackles at her anguished face. “The extra finger really adds to the scratch!”

She pulls her knees to her chest and quietly cries.

By the fourth day she can’t cry anymore, her head aches, her eyes are red and puffy, and she wishes she could sleep more than five minutes. The blaring music she had gotten used to, but the second one of Bill’s minions noticed she was asleep, they'd come over and smack the bars of her cage and wake her up.

---------

Stan is extremely relieved when the kids barge back into the shack. After he greets everyone he looks at the door expectantly.

“Are Fords and-” He tries to say but Dipper knows what he's going to ask.

“I know for a fact Bill has Grunkle Ford, but as for…” Dipper trails off.

They begin to argue a course of action and the other townspeople when Stan accidentally turns on the television. Every person and creature in the shack is brought to the reality that the people of Gravity Falls are being turned into stone, then the camera pans over to show their friend and Graunt.

She is behind bars and looks absolutely worn down.

Mabel and Dipper begin to hype everyone up to band together, but Stan is fast to voice his opinion against it.

“Grunkle Stan how can you say that?” Mabel pouts. “Bill has your best friend and brother. Are you just going to sit her while she suffers?”

Stan watches as everyone begins to form a plan.

----------

“Everyone has a weakness though guy, I’ll make you talk.” Bill threatens Ford at the top of the Fearamid. Ford is placed in chains.

Bill snaps and Ford watches in horror as his fiance appears next to the triangular menace.

“Don’t listen to him, Ford. I’m fine, don’t-” a rope comes up and wraps around her body and mouth.

“No!” Ford lets out an anguished scream. “Let her go, she has nothing to do with this.”

“Oh, Fordsie! Did you forget all the time we spent together? I’ve been in that silly little brain of yours, and I know how much she consumes your every thought! Did you forget who it was that showed you where the ufo was so you could propose to her there?! I know with her by my side I can get you to do what I want! Or maybe…”

Bill draws her close to his eye and looks closely at her. “If you know how to bring down the barrier she must know too! I’ll get one of you to talk for sure!”

----------

She watches in horror as Bill begins electrocuting Ford, knowing she would be next.

“If only one of you would talk, then you wouldn’t have to watch the love of your life torchered!” Bill cackles boisterously.

There’s a loud crash as the Mystery Shack crashes through one of the walls. She looks at Ford with hope on her face. Until Bill realizes maybe if he tortured the kids he could get Ford or her to talk, they both begin to yell before being turned to stone.

Her vision returns to her and she looks around to see everyone back to their normal selves. Ford takes her hand and pulls her to the kids where they share in a group hug.

Ford’s taken aback when he sees his old friend Fiddleford. She feels bad never having gotten around to telling Ford what happened to him. They share in a few heartfelt words and a hug before Dipper brings everyone's attention back to the fact that Bill is outside.

“Drawing a circle on the floor. Well. he’s lost his mind.” Stan shouts.

She lays a hand on Stan’s arm. “Trust him. Please.” Her smile is tired, and she looks so weak compared to the normal strong woman Stan was sued to seeing.

Ford explains the meaning of the symbol on the floor, and everyone begins taking their places.

“The peace sign.” Ford smiles fondly as she takes your place between him and Stan’s symbol.

Everyone takes hands and the ground begins to shake. She reaches her hand out towards Stan.

Stan begins to argue and everyone pleads him to join the circle.

“Stan, please.” She begs her friend.

“Fine, just do one thing, say thank you.” Stan says.

Her heart drops to her stomach. She knew both brothers were too proud and now wasn’t the time for this.

“What?” Ford gawks.

“We spent thirty years trying to bring you back and you couldn’t even tell me or your girlfriend, not wife, thank you!?” Stan barks.

She felt tears begin to prick her eyes. There was no need for Stan to add that she wasn’t his wife yet. She knew he was angry and being petty but it hurt.

“Now’s not the time, Stan.” She scowled, blinking back tears.

“Fine. Thank you.” Ford begrudgingly says and Stan takes his hand. It looks like for a second it might be working, until Stan begins to fight with his brother and breaks the circle.

“You two stop!” She shouts.

But it’s too late. Bill has arrived. He takes Stan, Ford, and her into his grasp and everyone gets ready to fight. Bill snaps his fingers but everyone but the twins levitates and disappears. The young twins are entrapped in a cage.

“Last chance: Tell me how to take Weirdmageddon global and I’ll spare the kids!” Bill threatens.

Mabel yells at him and gets his attention before spraying him in his eye with spray paint, causing his grip on the three to disappear. The kids free themselves and order them to run. The kids run off and they try to follow but Bill traps the three of them in another cage.

All she can do is sit beside Ford as he and his brother share a moment. Ford finally stands and states his idea of letting Bill inside his head.

“You can’t do that to Ford.” She grabs his hand.

“I’ll,” She chokes on her words. “I’ll let him inside my mind and you can erase him.” She's scared. She's so extremely scared to lose everything important to her, but she’s more afraid of losing Dipper and Mabel.

The brothers share a look. “Absolutely not.” They say at the same time.

“But, but,” She whimpers.

“What if…” Stan states his plan, and she's against it. She’d rather take the sacrifice but she knows neither of them would let her. So she watches helplessly as the two exchange clothes.

Stan brings her into a hug. “You’ve really made my life worth living, kid.”

She hugs him as tight as she can. “Don’t talk like this is goodbye, because it’s not.” She kisses his cheek. “I love you.”

“I love you too.” Stan reminds her, he shares a quick glance and hug from his brother, then they wait.

Everything that happens next happens in a blur. Stan, dressed as Ford, agrees to help Bill and steps towards him and Ford and her and are held in bonds again. Dipper screams for Ford to stop. Her vision blurs with tears.

As soon as Bill enters Stan’s mind she kneels down and draws both of the twins close to her and watches helplessly as Ford erases Stanley’s mind.

Everything returns to the normal state it should be. Mabel rushes to Stan's side and begins to praise him, but quickly she has to be pulled back.

She pulls Mabel into a tight hug as Ford explains what happened. They all cry, then they head back to the remains of the shack. The twins hold Stan’s hands.

Her hand is held tight in Ford’s, he holds her hand back equally as tight.

They stand awkwardly in front of Stan as he sits in his chair. Mabel refuses to accept Stan is gone and begins showing him her scrapbook from the summer. To everyone's surprise, it actually starts to work. They all gather around his chair while she reads.

-----------

It’s a few days later and Stan has recovered a lot of his memory. He’s not exactly himself yet but he is on the road to recovery.

It’s late in the afternoon and she’s outside repairing the steps up to the shack when Stan finds her. She greets him with a bright smile.

“Stanley!” She beams. “How are you feeling?” She takes a break from her work and sits down.

“Hey, kid. I’m feeling pretty good.” He smiles back and sits beside her. Then he begins to rub the back of his neck.

“What’s on your mind?” She places a hand on his shoulder.

“How’d ya know?”

“You always rub your neck like that when somethings on your mind.” She reminds him.

He pulls him hand down into his lap and sighs. “Listen, I feel like before I wasn’t the best at expressing my emotions, and when I fully recover I’m probably going to be the same again.” He thinks for a second. “I wanted to let you know that besides Ford, you’re the most important person in my life. You’re my best friend and you’ve been with me through everything, despite what an ass I can be a lot of the time. I wanted to say, ya know, thanks, and I love you.”

Stan can’t look at her face to see her reaction because she pulls him into the tightest bear hug. “I know, but it feels good to hear you say it. You’re my best friend too. If it weren’t for you I wouldn’t have Ford back.” She pulls back from the hug and sits.

“And another thing… I remember when we were all taking hands back during,” he waves his hand, “Ya know… I pointed out you weren’t married to Ford yet. I did it just to hurt your feelings. I was mad that you were okay he hadn’t said thank you to us yet. You’ve always been more level headed than me, more of a peacekeeper.”

She laughs. “I guess that’s why I was the peace sign.” She jokingly throws up a peace sign with her hands. “Joking aside though, all is forgiven Stanley. I could never stay mad at you. It means a lot to hear you talk like this. I know in a few days you won’t want to have conversations like this, so it’s nice, ya know?” The two of them sit in silence as the clouds pass overhead.

----------

Miraculously the Mystery Shack is back in one piece in just a week. Just in time for Dipper and Mabel’s birthday. Ford pulls Stan aside to tell him his plan to sail around the world.

She and Ford had discussed it beforehand, and she understood the boys needed some time alone to bond. She’d be happy waiting for them both to return back home.

“What are you crazy?” Stan playfully shoved his brother. “She’s not invited?”

“Well, no, we had discussed it beforehand and she thought it would be a good idea for us to have some time to bond. As brothers. I’ll miss her of course, but-”

Stan cut his twin off. “No buts! She waited thirty year for you. I say we bring her.”

Ford laughs. “I’m happy to hear you say that. As long as she wants to be stuck in a small boat with two old men I’d be happy to bring her.”

“You do realise she is as old as us right?” Stan calls her over to where the two are talking.

Ford wraps his arm around her waist and she smiles. “Did you tell him your plan?” She beams up at him.

“I did, however,” Ford frowns, and she frowns too. She looks to Stanley for explanation.

“You must be out of your mind if you think you’re not coming with us.” Stan smirks.

“But I thought…” She looks up at Ford.

“It was Stanley’s idea, and it’s fine by me. Actually more than fine by me, lovely even.” Ford leans down to give her a kiss.

“We’re family, so I think it’d be stupid to make you wait here alone for the both of us. So you coming or what?” Stan’s smile is wide and genuine.

She lets go of Ford to pull Stan into a crushing hug. “Thank you, Stan.”

“Yeah, yeah.” Stan rolls his eyes.

Her hand reaches back towards Ford. “Get over here, I need to hug you both.” Ford chuckles but compiles.

Stan surprises everyone by announcing the closure of the Mystery Shack before giving Soos permission to run it.

She keeps close to Ford’s side as they wait for the bus to take the kids back home. Mabel grabs her hand and pulls her down to her level. “You’re the best Graunt in the whole world.”

She hugs Mabel tight and closes her eyes to stop the tears from spilling from her eyes. “You’re the best great niece and match maker in the world. Thank you for getting Ford back for me.”

Stan and Ford threaten the bus driver to let Waddles on. They all wave goodbye and run after the bus, cheering farewells.

Ford holds her close with one arm while the other wraps reassuringly around his brother. “They’ll be back next summer. Until then, let’s have an adventure.”

[the--sad--hatter]

Steam - Chapter 1 (Loki x Reader)

Warnings - Loki, Smut, Violence & Gore, Swearing, Death, Angst, Dark Humour, Crack Humour, Shenanigan’s, Mutual Pining

Pairing - Loki X Reader (Slow Burn Romance), Enemies to Frenemies to Idiots in Love

Reader Description - Female, No physical descriptions, Only referred to by nicknames & Petnames (No use of Y/N)

Description/Blurb -

“So how’d you get the firepower? What’s your origin story?” Stark asked, peering at you curiously.

“Uh, this is my origin story…” You winced, sighing when he motioned for you to elaborate, “I got these powers about three days ago.”

It’s a tale as old as time, boy meets girl, boy tries to invade girls mind, girl sets boy on fire, boy turns into angry blue boy, they become sworn enemies.

When you suddenly become imbued with a power you have no idea how to control, Nick Fury picks you up and dumps you on The Avengers doorstep, deciding that they are best people to turn you from a wacky novice into a force to be reckoned with.

The power burning inside you has the potential to make you a hero, or destroy you completely, but your new fire based abilities are more than they appear, and in a stroke of spectacularly bad luck, The God of Mischief is the most qualified teacher to mentor you. With Loki guiding you, will you ever learn to control your power? Will you ever make it as an Avenger? Or will you crash and burn?

Only one thing is absolutely certain, when fire and ice collide, things are bound to get… steamy!

Chapter One - Ice Breaker

It was every bit as imposing as you’d imagined it would be, not that you’d ever imagined seeing it under these circumstances.

 “Are you coming?” Fury barked at you, breaking you out of your slack-jawed awe.

 You snapped your mouth closed and tore your eyes away from the legendary tower, looking at the doors where Fury was impatiently waiting for you.

 “Coming!” You squeaked, scurrying over to him, “It’s just when you said you were taking me somewhere where I could safely learn to control my powers, I was sort of picturing an underground bunker in the desert, not the freaking Avengers Tower!”

 “I utilise the assets I have, why would I send you away when I have a team of perfectly capable super-powered individuals?” He asked wryly, leading you across the lobby and straight past the security teams who did nothing to stop you both as you made your way into an elevator.

 “I’m just saying, a heads up would have been nice.” You muttered petulantly, crossing your arms over your chest and tucking your hands out of sight.

 You felt him look at you and studiously refused to meet his eye, staring instead at the numbers above the door as you were carried all the way to the top of the Tower.

 “Heads up, you’re meeting The Avengers.” He shot back.

You could say what you liked about the former director of Shield, he was true to his word, because the elevator doors wooshed open to reveal a waiting crowd of Avengers, all of them staring at the man next to you with varying levels of annoyance and/or distrust. You diligently pattered after Fury as he stepped forward to greet them, looking around the room reverently.

 The first person you laid eyes on was Tony Stark, Iron Man; the billionaire who had kicked off the modern age of hero’s, and next to him, Captain America, the first of the first, the OG Superhero. Stood behind the Captain was Sam Wilson, the Falcon and a personal favourite of yours, side by side with Bucky Barnes, the former Winter Soldier and poster-child for taking back control of your own fate. Clint Barton aka Hawkeye and the deadliest marksman in the world stood to the side with the Black Widow, deadliest person in the world full stop. In the back of the room two other figures were hanging back, emitting two very different aura’s. Doctor Bruce Banner eyed Fury with trepadition, and well-placed mistrust.

 It was the last person in the room that the majority of your attention was reserved for, the tall, imposing god who skulked in the shadows. Contempt and boredom radiated from him, and you couldn’t safely say it was directed purely at Fury. He was also the only one who spared you more than a cursory glance, and you slowed to a stop as you found yourself trapped in his curious gaze. You stared back, trying to reconcile the villain who once tried to subjugate the planet with the one you were locking eyes with. It had been months since he had joined the Avengers, but it never stopped being strange to see him standing with them whenever you watched footage of them taking on whatever bad guy of the week they were battling. However, he had been fully cleared of any wrongdoing in the battle of New York, apparently he had been mind-controlled. As to why he was helping the Avengers, nobody really knew.  

 Someone cleared their throat loudly and you forced yourself to look away from the stupendously tall god, glancing around the room to see that you now had all eyes watching you expectantly. Apparently you’d zoned out for the introductions.

 “’Sup?” You offered, waving in Tony Starks general direction.

 “So you’re Fury’s fiery friend, what has that got to do with us?” Stark sighed.

 “What, you think he bothered to explain his reasoning to me before dragging my ass up here?” You scoffed.

 “She’s here because she has abilities, abilities that she is more likely to learn to handle among similarly gifted people.” Fury explained in a tone that brokered no argument.

 Naturally, The Avengers argued.

 “We don’t have anybody with fire abilities.” You heard Natasha Romanoff point out, just before you took the opportunity to zone out again.

 You were absolutely certain that nobody cared very much what your opinion on the matter was, thankfully. You weren’t sure you had an opinion on the matter. It wasn’t like you had a lot of experience with these kinds of issues, and as far as you were away there wasn’t some superhero academy that you could enrol yourself in. Besides, you were much more interested in re-instating your staring competition with the god of Mischief.

 In the brief time you’d been distracted, he’d stepped away from the shadows and moved closer to you, staring at you with his arms crossed.

 You resisted the urge to inhale deeply, who knew ex-murderous gods would smell so nice? You looked up, and then up again.

 “How tall are you?” You asked incredulously.

 His gaze flickered down at you impassively, while you stared back and tried to mentally calculate his height.

 “I’m a Frost Giant.” He stated coldly.

 “Oh in that case, you’re kinda short.” You scoffed.

 You were flooded with immediate remorse but it was drowned out by amusement.

 “I beg your pardon?” He demanded, uncrossing his arms and stepping into your personal space.

 “Down boy.” Iron Man sniggered, stepping between you. “So how’d you get the firepower? What’s your origin story?” Stark asked, peering at you curiously.

 “Uh, this is my origin story…” You winced, sighing when he motioned for you to elaborate, “I got these powers about three days ago.”

 “So you’re a baby.” He stated matter-of-factly.

 “If I say yes does that mean I can just sit on the floor and cry until someone picks me up and holds me?” You asked, fully willing to give it a go.

 It had been three days since your life had literally gone up in flames, three days of pinning your arms at your sides, afraid to close your eyes, afraid to let your guard down for even a split second, afraid to allow yourself to feel even an iota of emotion.

 “So how did it happen?” The Captain asked firmly, getting the conversation back on track before you could find out if anyone would volunteer a hug.

 “I, well, I kind of…” You trailed off and looked at Fury for help, but he just stared back at you, the bastard.

 All eyes were on you as they waited for you to explain, nobody offering any kind of help. You exhaled forcefully and slumped your shoulders, tucking your chin so you didn’t have to look at them anymore.

 “I ate a bomb.” You whispered.

 There was a very long beat of silence before it was broken by several voices all at once.

 “I’m sorry, what?” Stark demanded.

 “What did it taste like?” The archer wondered, looking at you almost giddily.

 “She didn’t eat a bomb.” Fury finally stepped in to clarify, “She absorbed the blast, after failing to defuse it.”

 “Why was a civilian defusing a bomb in the first place?” Captain Rogers asked sharply, glancing at you in concern before turning back to Fury with a hard expression.

 “I’m not a civilian, I’m actually an Agent.” You reasoned.

 “She’s an Agent-In-Training.” Fury rebutted. “It was her first mission in the field.”

 “Baby.” Stark reiterated, faking a cough and smirking at you when you scowled at him.

 That was true, and you still didn’t think it was entirely your fault that the bomb had gone off. Yes you’d failed to diffuse it, but you were supposed to be watching the perimeter when you’d stumbled across the explosive device. It had less than thirty seconds on the clock, and you’d stupidly chosen to spend those seconds trying to stop it detonating instead of running away.

 “And you put her on bomb duty? Were you trying to get her blown up?” The Black Widow demanded, and you almost laughed until you saw the serious expression on her face.

 “There wasn’t supposed to be a bomb there, she was in the wrong place at the wrong time.” Fury shrugged, like it was inconsequential.

 To him it probably was.

 “She is still in the room, and I was exactly where you told me to be, when you told me to be there. If your intel was bad, that’s on you Mr Superspy.” You snapped.

 “Oh I see it now!” Stark briskly announced, “You’re trying to pawn her off on us because she’s too sassy for you.”

 “Precisely.” Fury admitted, surprisingly.

 “In the words of shortstack over there,” You hissed, gesturing at Loki “I beg your pardon?”

 “You don’t have the temperance to be an Agent.” Fury told you blankly, not bothering to soften the blow by at least telling you this in private instead of in front of the world greatest heroes.

 “I’d take that as a compliment.” Stark assured you.

 “You’re telling me I’m fired? Literally. Because I got blown up, through no fault of my own?” You huffed, clenching your firsts in an effort to keep your emotions from manifesting in a fiery inferno of rage.

 “Because you choose to try and handle a bomb you had no training to handle, instead of pursuing the target.” Fury amended, unphased by your distress.

 You bit back your retort because you knew it wouldn’t matter to him in the slightest. You couldn’t reason with him, couldn’t explain that you had made the choice not to pursue the target who’d planted the bomb, because you had to try and stop it exploding in a building filled with innocent people. Maybe Fury was right after all. Maybe you weren’t suited to being an Agent, because an Agent would have known that they couldn’t stop the bomb but they could stop the bomber. They would have let a hundred innocent people die and stopped the killer from killing a thousand more the next time. You weren’t an Agent because you’d chosen to die trying to save the hundred, and trusted in Fury and Hill to take down the Bomber.

 Of course, that wasn’t what had happened, and in the end nobody had died.

 “None of this explains how you ‘ate’ the bomb.” Clint Barton pointed out, and it was a good observation.

 “That’s because we don’t have an explanation. She went through the standard medical tests in her training, and all her bloodwork and scans indicated she was fully human. She walked into that building as a human being, and walked back out after absorbing a bomb, as who the hell knows what.”

 “So you’ve never done anything like this before?” Dr Banner asked you, speaking directly to you for the first time.

 “Not even remotely. I mean my eyes water when I eat chilli.” You shrugged.

 “Fascinating.” Banner muttered. “Inhuman?” He asked, turning to Stark.

 “Unlikely, she would have probably noticed going through Terragenesis.” Stark responded. “Mutant?” He shot back.

 “No, the mutant gene would have shown up in testing.” Dr Banner sighed, looking you over with a scientifically calculating eye. “Can you explain what happened in more detail?”

 “Sure, bomb went boom, I went AHHHHHH, and then it was all bright and hot and then the boom went away.” You told them.

 “So how do we know that it was you? What if something else contained the blast?” Someone asked, and you looked around before you finally realised it was Sam Wilson who had spoken.

 “No, it was… it definitely me.” You sighed.

 “How do you know?” Bucky Barnes interjected, backing up the Falcons line of questioning.

 That was the million dollar question. How could you be sure that you had anything to do with the bomb, that you had been imbued with fire power?

 “During the post-mission de-brief, there was an incident.” You alluded, side-eying Fury and taking a not-so-subtle step away from him.

 “Please tell me you tried to set him on fire?” Barton asked giddily, looking between you and your former boss.

 When Fury levelled you with a glare and you developed a sudden vested in the ceiling, the Archer sniggered joyfully. You chanced a look around the room and saw that Barton wasn’t the only one exhibiting mirth at the idea of Fury being set ablaze by your.. well, your fury.

 “He was yelling at me!” You defended, taking yet another step back when his glare intensified.

 “You’re lucky you had no aim and only managed to set fire to the table.” He snapped.

 “I think you were the lucky one.” Stark sniggered at Fury.

 “Do you want her or not?” Fury sighed.

 “Do I get a say in this?” You objected.

 “No.” Fury, Stark, Romanoff, and Loki said in unison.

 “I can run some tests to figure out what happened to you, if it’s reversible.” Banner offered comfortingly. “With your permission of course.”

 “I’m gonna go stand over there with him.” You huffed, making a beeline for the doctor and awkwardly hiding behind him.

 “Yeah, we’ll take her, should be an interesting riddle to solve.” Stark shrugged.

 Captain Rogers and his buddies glanced at you before appearing to have a silent conversation.

 “She can stay here while Stark and Banner figure out what happened, and we can go from there.” The Captain finally decided.

 “We’ll take good care of her.” Loki added with a charming smile.

 His eyes said something completely different, and you had a sick feeling that you were going to be made to pay for your short jokes.

 “Glad I meet your approval; I was worried I was going to fall short.” You sarked, immediately resisting the urge to punch yourself in the face.

 “Approval has nothing to do with it. Of all The Avengers, who do you think will be responsible for testing your abilities? You would do well to remember that I am more than mischief and lies, I am the god of chaos and fire.” He warned you cockily, visibly delighting in the way your grin faltered.

 You shot a pleading look around the room, but nobody was refuting Loki’s claim. In fact, they were nodding thoughtfully, or in Stark’s case; shrugging apologetically at you. You turned back to Loki, ignoring the deep sense of foreboding in your stomach.

 “Well Fe-Fi-Fo-Fuck.”

I have been trying to get back into writing for so long, and this is my last attempt. If this doesn’t work then I am out of ideas. 

I know this is a boring start but I have been re-working and rewriting it for days and I can’t improve it. If you enjoyed any part of this, please do tell me! If you didn’t, then tell me that as well. Just give me any feedback at all, I’d appreciate it so so so so so much. 

For those of you unaware (especially on AO3), I haven’t been writing for a while because my estranged mother passed away and it brought up issues that needed to be dealt with, but all that is over with now. Thank you to everyone who sent supportive messages and was patient with me ❤

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[adonis-koo]

tease

| 24 |

↳ Summary: You came with the intentions of your best friend landing a job as a stripper. You never meant to catch the eyes of the king stripper of the establishment- Jeon Jungkook, yourself. With what was supposed to be a harmless way of paying off college debt faster you find yourself falling into a very odd and passionate relationship with your new mentor. Between infidelity, passion and jealousy there’s never a dull moment at Cherry Bomb.

↳ Pairing: Stripper!Jungkook/Reader

↳ Genre: Smut, fluff, angst, drama, slice of life, relationship problems without the relationship, reader is such a shy baby protect her, MUTUAL pining, so much sexual frustration,  

Word Count: 10k

Previous | Next

Tags:  penetrative sex, it’s a little rough, oral (m & f recieveing) they 69 i’m sorry, dirty talk, an attempted lap dance, reverse cowgirl because we love women who ride, slight degradation, praise kink, spanking, doggy style, little hair pulling and breath play,

Song Mood

Warning: This story touches on both sexual harassment and abuse, please read with caution if any of these things are triggers to you. Additional warnings will be given when a chapter present them.

“No!” 

“What do you mean no!? Baby be reasonable you can’t tell me you’re gonna cook all of that.” Jungkook glared down childishly at the cart only semi full of groceries that you had crossed off the list you had made before dragging Jungkook out, if he had it his way, you’d both be at the theme park right now. 

But seriously, his fridge was empty! Nothing, and you were not eating take out, again. It was ridiculous. So in effort to combat the increasing desire to cook at home, you compiled a list of meals you wanted to make and eat before demanding Jungkook go with you to the store because hey, if he wanted to live together then this was going to be a team effort. 

You had asked Jungkook what he wanted to eat as well and he shrugged saying he really didn’t care and therefore, the world was your oyster in terms of cooking, “Me be reasonable!?” You replied back indignant, an angry pout on your face as you flailed your hands, “You’re the one who tried to put two 24 packs of soda in the cart, a box of snack cakes, matcha snowballs and mochi in the cart? You think I’m gonna let you add ice cream to the list as well?” 

You knew Jungkook had a sweet tooth but you didn’t realize just how big of a sweet tooth he had and before you knew it, you were constantly making Jungkook put things back, he glared at you and you glared back at him. War sirens could be heard to anyone passing by you both as he gripped the tub of ice cream stubbornly. 

“It’s either mochi or ice cream Jungkook, we’re not getting both.” You replied as you crossed your arms. And for the first time in your life, you watched Jungkook’s lips quiver into a pout, puffing a childish breath as he turned around in defeat, going to put the ice cream back. 

You had to stifle your giggle because you knew he’d take it as a challenge otherwise, he was just too cute sometimes. You found his sweet tooth, in fact, endearing. Most men in his position would probably try to act all tough and manly, only liking things bitter like their personalities but Jungkook? Far from it. 

Jungkook came back with his arms crossed and that broody pout still on his face making you smile unable to stop your giggles making him even more broody as he took the cart from you with a huff, “Stop laughing at me! You’re cock blocking all my favorite snacks.” 

“Is that all you buy by yourself? Just snacks? That’s not healthy!” You giggled even more at the way he rolled his eyes, obviously your guess was correct, “Besides, once I start cooking you’ll appreciate it, I just know it. And,” You raised your brows as your lips puckered together, “You were the one that wanted us to live together, this is on you.” 

Jungkook huffed as he pushed the cart, looking down at the list that was laid out on top of your purse, “How is that going by the way?” Jungkook’s expression melted to one of curiosity as he raised his brow, “Have you talked to your landlord yet?” 

“Yeah,” You paused at the fresh produce outside the isle you both excited as you grabbed onto the cart, it was slow today and much appreciated so you wouldn’t have to battle over food with people, “The apartment is still in good condition even after...what happened,” Your lips twisted into a weak smile as you grabbed one of the reusable bags you always used at the store as you placed a fresh stalk of chokboy inside it, “My lease was getting ready to come up anyways so we agreed that with two months of rent he’d terminate my lease. I’ll get that to him Monday and then I’ll have thirty days to pack up everything and get it moved.” 

Jungkook nodded, “Which by the way, everyone agreed to come over and help clean up later today,” Your lips quivered into a pout...you...when did he even ask them that? You knew everyone had of course offered help but well, you hadn’t expected anyone to actually come and help you...well besides Jungkook but that was just a given. 

“Don’t look like that,” Jungkook snorted, reaching out as he squished your cheeks, a tiny smile tugging on your cheeks as you grabbed his wrist, pushing him away, “They asked by the way, I didn’t do anything. It just got mentioned in the groupchat.” 

“I didn’t see it.” You frowned as you checked your phone and much to your confusion you were right, there weren't any new messages to your notice.

Jungkook’s smile was a little sheepish as he shrugged, “We have a guys groupchat.” 

“That I'm not a part of!” You cried out with a pout as you crossed your arms, your expression sulky, you obviously weren’t surprised all the boys had their own chat, you were a part of so many it was hard to keep track but, couldn’t they ask in the main one? Where everyone was a part of?

“Well you aren’t a guy baby,” Jungkook cooed out, saccharine dripping on his tone as he squished your cheeks, “Besides…” He had a lopsided smile on his face as he leaned on the handle of the cart, “It was supposed to be a surprise but….I can’t help myself. I didn’t want you to cry again.” 

It was hard to not smile as you pushed him away playfully making him shove you back as you pulled the cart along, “I can’t believe everyone really wants to help...I mean...I just figured it’d be me and you.” 

“Well believe it or not they are your friends too now,” Jungkook snorted writing off on the list you made as you placed fresh tomatoes into the bag you had set the bokchoy in, “What are you even gonna make with this shit?” He furrowed his brows. 

“Food! I was gonna make some bulgogi one night and some porkbelly another with banchan and maybe some jjangijanma? I’m not just spending money on food that's gonna go bad Koo!” You stomped your foot in annoyance at why he kept complaining about you feeding both you and him decent food, “We can’t live off takeout, I’m not gonna stand for that! And!” 

You pointed a finger at him, “I want to get some paint for the living room! And some curtains because what if some creep is staring at us at night?” You shuddered, at the irrational fear but you couldn’t help it, regardless of how irrational it was you wouldn’t stand for it, especially if it was an easy fix, “Along with a rug too for the living center- oh! I was thinking about maybe finding a coffee table for the couch too? Too put in front of it?”

“Okay wait, wait, wait, slow down,” Jungkook held out his hands, his expression bewildered at your sudden long list of demands for the apartment, “Just because we’re living together doesn’t mean you can just hijack my apartment.” 

“Sure I can,” His lips parted indignantly as you smiled brightly with a shrug, “It’s not like you bothered to decorate anyways and I’m sure your landlord won’t mind a fresh coat of paint on those musty looking walls. Besides, it’s not yours anymore, it’s ours. You think we could get some new lighting for the kitchen too by the way? The white light really makes the grey walls look gross.” 

Jungkook puffed a breath, a brief smile on his lips as he wrapped an arm around your shoulders, “Let's just focus on one thing at a time first okay?” You squealed at his words, bouncing in excitement at his approval of letting you completely hijack his apartment but honestly, it reeked of lack of care and testosterone. It could use a feminine touch, “We can start off with some paint and lighting, that I can do. And….” He rubbed his neck, “It’s not like we don’t have time, I just got a call from Sejin this morning telling me Cherry isn’t gonna be open until Monday.” 

You frowned, “Isn’t that when SSU starts though?” How was that even gonna go? You doubt a lot of people- if any at all would show up, especially given what had just happened. Would it even still be on this year with everything that’s happened? 

“Yeah that’s the ploy,” Jungkook shrugged, just as unsure as you as he answered, “A lot of free and cheap entertainment, drinks will be half off, Sejin and Bang are really trying to make the most of Cherry’s comeback to try and bury what happened. You’d be surprised at how superficial people are, especially men when it comes to strip clubs.” 

You sighed wistfully as you shrugged, you wouldn’t deny him there, men were strange creatures and you wouldn’t be surprised if a lot of business did come back without a care in the world for what happened as long as it meant cheap drinks and naked girls.

“But hey! That gives us more time to prep for you,” Jungkook smiled that charming bright smile of his as he bumped into you making you whine a little as you bumped him back despite a smile threatening to tug on your lips, “Meaning I got a strip pole to install when we get back to the apartment. We won’t need Cherry anyways to choreograph now.” 

You were wondering what that package was on his front porch anyways, he had only smiled that smile of his as he shrugged innocently but apparently he had been wanting to get a pole for the apartment for awhile now. 

“Well I already have some songs picked out,” Your smile was a little timid at that pure enthusiasm Jungkook always radiated with pride when it came to you and work, “You’ll have to tell me in detail later just how things are run for SSU. But anyways, this is the last of what we need so let's go check out.” 

Jungkook wheeled the cart to the checkout where you carefully placed things back into the reusable bags which Jungkook complained about but you didn't like using plastic when it wasn’t needed. 

For the first time, doing mundane things such as grocery shopping was actually rather fun, Jungkook and you would banter the whole time and he despite complaining was just as curious and involved in getting things for you (and just as what had happened, trying to bring extra things into the cart as well). However he did get his own snack as well. You just weren’t gonna let him go overboard.

Bringing groceries in was also easy as Jungkook had made it a competition he easily won by bringing them in bulk, proudly showing off the muscle he had despite it being hidden beneath the bagging clothes he often wore. 

Unfortunately Jungkook looked like a lost puppy, unable to help as you began to unload them into the fridge, debating on where to put everything as he sat back at the chair at the table with a fat pout on his face making you giggle, “You can join in the say so if you want, I don’t mind! It is your fridge. Have you ever even gotten a full grocery shop before?” 

“No.” Jungkook sulked as he crossed his arms, making a flutter of laughter escape you, “I don’t know shit about where to put what in the fridge!” 

You waved him over as you shook your head, and reluctantly Jungkook got up and peered over your shoulder, “Everyone does it different, but this is how I do it. All the big stuff like milk and dairy go on the main shelving,” You patted the first level where you had placed your oat milk, the sour cream and cheese at, “These little shelves are for smaller stuff like butter! And the drawers on the bottom hold produce like the bokchoy we have.” 

Jungkook wrapped his arms around you loosely as he set his chin on your shoulder, listening intently to you ramble and explain how you placed things into the fridge before muttering to him about how to arrange things which Jungkook would offer suggestions on, some you’d agree excitedly with and others you snort and dismiss. 

You enjoyed doing domestic things with him. It didn’t take long for all the groceries to be put away and you were admittedly excited to start turning Jungkook’s apartment into something more...bright...You didn’t want to say Jungkook’s apartment was ugly. It just felt...void of personality and flair that you knew it had the potential for. 

And it wasn’t like Jungkook lived in a bad part of Seoul, it was a lovely neighborhood and apartment complex he lived in and because it was so close to Gangnam it was extremely expensive, the only way he could ever afford it was because he was a stripper. He had told you he only started renting here three years ago. 

So you knew this apartment probably came like this and only deteriorated over time as Jungkook didn’t live hard in it, but he didn’t maintain more than needed. With a little bit of love you knew this place would be a lot brighter and happier. 

“Just hold down the bottom,” Jungkook directed as you steadied the pole, he stood up on a chair as he installed the top of the pole, you both had to rearrange furniture and Jungkook respectively asked for your opinion as this was your domain that you would be styling in the future and you both had agreed that the pole would look back towards the further right corner just a little left of where the TV was, but enough space that there was no chance of hitting the wall or anything else. 

You definitely had some work to do with this place but you were already getting ideas that you were excited to try, the rest of your summer, which was coming to a fast end, wouldn’t go to waste.  

“I am!” You replied, looking up at him with a pout as you steadied the pole. 

“Then why are you wiggling so much?” Jungkook huffed as he gripped the top of the pole making it stiff as he finished tightening the top. 

“Don’t be mean! I’m trying my best!” You replied back with a cry making Jungkook snort as he rolled his eyes, finishing up he hopped off the chair, holding out his hands, your eyes narrowing on them as you grabbed them. 

“I’m not being mean,” Jungkook tutted as he pulled you up and against him, you tried your best to make an angry face but it failed as he leaned down, bumping your nose against his, “You’re just being a baby.”

Your expression curled a little as he smiled that smile of his as he looked away, “See? Pure baby material.” 

You stomped your foot before latching onto him, your arms around his neck as you spoke, “You like it when I’m a baby!” You defended yourself, making him chuckle. 

“You’re right, I do.” He relented playfully as he sighed dramatically, “I do. I wouldn’t want it any other way then seeing your sulky, pouty little face every day.” He bumped your nose against his once more as your lips lightened into a bright shy smile as you leaned up, letting your nose brush his in acknowledgement, “Are you ready to go? The others are headed over to your apartment.” 

You nodded, “Mhm, I just wanna get it cleaned oh and…” You offered a cheeky smile that you knew he would groan about, “I wanna bring some of my mugs and plates over...it’s really sad you live off styrofoam.” 

“Oh my god.” He sighed as he hung his head causing a string of giggles to escape you, god you loved this man. 

“Man this place is a mess,” Seokjin wrinkled his nose as he swept up broken glass, “I mean really, it’s seen better da- Ow! Hey you punk!” Seokjin had dropped the broom to rub his bicep at the harsh punch Jungkook landed against his arm, his glare sharp as he briefly looked over at you. 

Kneeled down your fingers ran through the soil of the potted hosta you had bought from the supermarket, it had been dying and you were slowly nursing it back to health. Now all its leaves were dried up and crumbled from the days without nutrition or water. Placing the chunks of pottery into the plastic bag you remembered the day you bought that pot too. 

It was from the local pottery store and the woman who ran it was so excited that you had gotten it because it had been sitting on the shelf for nearly three months despite having the cutest illustration of a lone weak tree on it. 

You remembered thinking it was that most adorable thing on the planet and just knew it’d look good sitting up on that old wooden crate you stood up right as a stand. You hardly even realized tears were trickling down your cheeks as you held up the broken pottery piece that had the small tree on it. 

“We’ll get you a new one babygirl.” Jungkook kneeled down beside you with a soft tone as he wrapped an arm around you, your lips immediately quivering as you sniffled harshly, trying not to cry. It was dumb, these were all things, just material items, at least they weren’t you. But in everything you did and bought, you did it was so much passion and utmost love. 

“...It was from the pottery store, theren’t aren’t any more like this.” You mumbled with a sniffle as you closed your eyes in defeat, tears trickling down your face as you wiped them. Shaking your head, “This is so stupid to cry about!” You flopped the piece into the bag, feeling frustrated with yourself, you were tired of crying, tired of feeling your heart ache over the tiniest things. It was too exhausting. 

“No, no, no it’s not!” Jungkook immediately defended, grabbing the piece from the bag, “These are your things babydoll, and I know how much your space means to you. It’s okay for this to be hard,” He pecked your temple as you closed your eyes again, warm watery tears sliding down your cheeks, “There’s nothing wrong with acknowledging that.” 

Your hands trembled as you covered your eyes, your shoulders bouncing as you silently kept your tears to yourself, Jungkook’s lips pressing into your hair as his hand soothingly rubbed your arm that was wrapped around you. 

After a moment of mourning all of the precious memories you made in this little apartment you called home, you wiped your tears as Jungkook asked if you were okay, nodding you continued to wipe your eyes as he helped you bag up the rest of the broken pot. Tenderly Jungkook took the bag from you as he rubbed your back once before getting up. 

Sighing you shook your head, wiping your eyes one last time as you stood up.Stupid...even with Jungkooks vaildation which you knew he was right about, you couldn’t help but berate yourself, it was dumb to cry about things like this when there was better ways you could exert your energy. 

Having dried your tears and having a moment to regain your composure you finished up cleaning all the pottery and glass that had been scattered on the floor before walking into the living room your lips curled a little at the confused expression Jimin sported. 

He was holding up a cloth, inspecting it closely as if trying to figure out what it was was but obviously finding no success due to the many rips in it, “It’s a tapestry,” Jimin jumped a little as you sat down on the couch beside him, “...Was a tapestry,” You mumbled, rubbing the back of your neck, “I found it at a flea market when I first came to Seoul, back when me and Seulgi lived together that was our first week on being in our apartment and it was horrible,” You shook your head as your nose wrinkled, grabbing a side of the ripped tapestry in fondness, “I mean there was water stains on the walls, the paint was chipped and looked like it had been due for a new coat for over ten years, the toilets hadn’t been scrubbed and the bathrooms were wrecked. It was horrible.” 

Jimin peered at you curiously as you traced the design of a large lotus flower that had been on it, “Seulgi just started crying the moment we walked through the house for the first time because the pictures online made it look a lot better. And of course I thought it was terrible too, but later that week exploring Seoul, I ended up finding an old flea market stall and came across this.” 

Your lips curled into a proud smile as you held it up, “And I realized that, just because that’s what our apartment looked like when we first got there, didn’t mean it had to continue looking like that. Seulgi dragged her feet and wouldn’t come with me so I painted all the walls, cleaned up the bathrooms and got new apparel to put in there. It didn’t happen fast.” 

You clacked your tongue as you sighed, “We were pretty broke at the time because even with us splitting rent it was still expensive. But slowly and sure, it came together. And we left that apartment better than it ever was. I was proud.”

You looked at Jimin only for him to scoot a little away from you as he joked, “Maybe you should’ve gone into interior decorating instead of dance? Jungkook could really use the help, he has zero sense of taste when it comes to anything besides himself.” 

You briefly flickered your gaze to Jungkook who tried to not make himself so obvious that he was keeping an eye on you both, his gaze immediately shooting away from you as you sighed, you knew Jungkook would apologize on his own time but that didn’t mean you still didn’t feel bad, “Jungkook told me…”

You didn’t need to elaborate for Jimin to know exactly what you were talking about, his expression visibly put out as he slumped back against the couch, running his hands through his hair as he groaned, “I mean I’m not surprised, but he could’ve kept it to himself…You know what, maybe you’ll tell me what the fuck is wrong with him?” 

Your lips parted a little, somewhat taken aback at just how strong Jimin came off, clearly still sore about yesterday- not that you could blame him, you knew how Jungkook was, but still…you had never seen Jimin in such a...hostile state. And a part of you felt a wave of guilt...had it not been for you...Jungkook wouldn’t be like this…

You had to pause to think about your next words carefully, because you knew if not said the right way, it could be seen as defensive, which wasn’t your intention, “...Well...I wouldn’t say there’s anything wrong with Jungkook,” You spoke softly, folding your hands into your lap, “He just....” Your eyes fanned around the room realizing Jungkook must’ve gone back to the kitchen, otherwise it was just the two of you, “...Jimin…” You sighed as you lifted one foot onto the couch, wrapping your arms around your leg as you gently laid your head against it, “There’s a lot of stuff going on with him lately. There’s a lot of things that he’s ignored about himself and bottled up, and...it’s all come out recently. A lot of wounds he never even tended to, have been ripped back open for him.” 

“I just don’t understand him,” Jimin sighed, lifting up the fabric of the tapestry once more as he shook his head, “I thought I knew him, but I guess I don’t huh.” You frowned a little as you pulled the tapestry from his hands, folding it up as you shook your head. 

“It’s not you, he just...I guess he thought he could bury it, or run from it...and he can’t.” You smoothed out the edges, “It’s brought out a lot of deep rooted insecurities from him. And Jungkook knows it’s not like him, but it’s not something he can help. For what it’s worth, I’m sorry I made things tense between you both....” You couldn’t look at him anymore, feeling a sense of shame in you as you stared down at your fingers.

“It’s not your fault!” Jimin immediately defended you, which was appreciated but you still felt bad, “You did nothing wrong.” 

“I basically gaslit him when he thought I was pregnant with your kid and instead of just staying in, I forced us to go out and not only that but somehow during all of that, I seriously thought blowing you would be a good idea.” Jimin deflated a little at your words as you stared at him in exasperation. You didn’t force Jungkook to go out technically, but you had pushed the whole day.

But only because you knew something was bothering him and he’d never be like that normally, you should’ve respected what he wanted regardless but you just thought….thought what? You felt pathetic trying to defend your motive that day, but it had been truly innocent up until what had happened at the afterparty. You had assumed Jungkook would eventually perk back up and have fun because he loved going out, you wouldn’t have pushed him had you understood what was really going on. 

“Well you do sound kinda like a bitch when you put it like that,” Jimin muttered, looking at you as you looked back at him, a smile curling on his lips and one threatening yours as you snorted, “But we both know it probably wasn’t like that. You had his best intentions at heart. And I mean you’re right, blowing me wasn’t a good idea, but I mean…” He shrugged, that dumb smile on his face as he shrugged, “Listen, it is what it is, you and I both assumed he wouldn’t care, clearly. And it was a shit move. The most you can do is just let it go and move on, I’m assuming he told you about what he told me?”

You nodded, setting down the tapestry coffee table as you hummed, “Yeah he told me, and it’s not like I could be mad at him, he’s struggling, with a lot internally and I think once he works through it, things will be okay. But it’s just going to be a work in progress until then.” You could distinctly remember Jungkook’s anger, the way he seemed frustrated with himself. 

It was going to be a process, “Besides...It seems like Jungkook isn’t the only one who hasn’t told everyone everything either...and I really hope you both know that it’s okay to have some things stay private.”

Jimin said nothing, only looking down at his hand that he flexed his fingers out from, wiggling them a little and his expression seemed downcast, “...I used to wanna have kids,” You glanced at him in surprise, not at his words, but you didn’t think Jimin would want to talk about it, it was something very personal to him clearly and he owned you nothing, “Me and my girlfriend used to talk about it all the time.” 

His lips flickered into a small smile as he looked down at his hand, as if remenscising a memory you’d never know about, “She said she always loved baby smiles and loved little kids sitting down with her, she used to work at a daycare- so I thought, why the hell not?” Jimin’s tiny smile began to melt off her face, “She thought it was her- that was infertile. But I got tested too with her, she just so happened to get her results back faster.” 

Jimin’s face became void as he lowered his hand down, “It was late that night and she had offered to stay past her shift because they were low staffed that night but I never got to see her again, a drunk driver clipped the back side of her car and flipped it.” 

Your lips quivered a little into a frown as you folded your hands, Jimin’s lips twitched into a bitter smile, “I got my results that morning.” You could see swirls of lingering mourning and rage inside his eyes, it was very similar to not only Jungkook, but Rosé’s as well. They all had things they were struggling with and it made your heart hurt for them, “God is one cruel motherfucker.” 

“I’m sorry…” You mumbled softly, your hands folded into your lap, wanting to give him a hug because you knew anybody in Jimin’s position probably needed one, but you also knew, this was a bad time, and that it wouldn’t be appropriate given everything that had happened up until this point, “I know that doesn’t change things for you. But, I do hope you find happiness.” You offered a tiny smile. 

Jimin sighed as he stretched out, shrugging loosely, trying to play it off like he didn’t care anymore but he above all else should know it wouldn’t slip past your eyes the way he was still sore about it, and he had every right to be, “It’s been years now,” He deflated, “I spiralled out of control after that, and eventually I stumbled across Cherry Bomb.” Jimin’s lips curved a little at the memory, “I was drunk and I wasn’t sure if I was just hallucinating or if it was Yeji on stage. It wasn’t,” He clarified before snorting, something oddly melancholy in his eyes as he muttered, “It was Rosé,” His lips curled into a semi ironic smile and his brows furrowed as if only slightly amused, “They don’t even look close to alike. And I remember seeing her in class the next day before realizing she was a stripper and she just begged me to not tell anyone.” 

Jimin heaved a breath as he stretched out before sitting up, “But I didn’t wanna tell anyone, I wanted to be up on stage. It sounds stupid but, that night I was drunk, I figured who’d care if I just left the world too?” His gaze lowered a little, “But my drunk stupid ass thought it was Yeji on that stage, and I cried at the bar the whole night before Yoongi eventually kicked me out at closing, and even if they looked nothing alike, even if it was just a desperate drunk delusion, when I saw Rose the next day, I saw hope. And so I asked her how I could start dancing because it was obvious I saw her for a reason.” 

You sniffled a little, wiping your eyes as Jimin did a double take, “it wasn’t that sad christ…” He looked a little awkward as you giggled, “And…” His gaze became sharp, “Don’t ever tell her any of what I just said. She’s my best friend and I love her but that’s not a conversation I’m ready to have with her- if ever.” 

“I’m not Jungkook,” You giggled as you wiped your eyes, “Of course it’ll stay between us- and maybe Jungkook too,” He groaned as you offered a small smile, “It just made me emotional, that’s all. I can’t relate, I don’t know what that feels like. But it makes me happy you and Rosé are so close.” 

“I am a lesbian,” You both jumped at Rosé who put her hands on the couch, a bright smile on her face as she answered pointedly, “I mean we already agreed to get married platonically if we’re both single by 30 but I draw the line with dicks. Unless it’s rubber it’s not getting near me.” You snorted as you began howling out laughing, Jimin looked a little flustered, not at her words but at her appearance before relaxing as he rolled his eyes. 

“So why all of these affectionate words? Did I do something?” Rosé smiled teasingly as she placed a hand on her chest waiting making you giggle as you shook your head while standing up, shrugging as she pouted, “Hey no fair! You can’t keep secrets from me!”

You offered a small smile as you replied, “Sometimes, the longer a secret is kept, the sweeter it is when they tell you.” Rosé waved her hands walking back to the hallway as you giggled. You were glad, if anything, that you had the chance to talk to Jimin and not only this, but for him to share such a personal thing with you. 

“Are you really okay? With everything going on I mean?” Hyerin frowned, she had texted you earlier in the morning asking if you’d be interested in getting drink’s together and of course, leave it to Jungkook and Yugyeom both for that matter to butt in. 

They were off in the distance playing pool, Hyerin said she wasn’t a fan of bars but when you offered a lounge she seemed excited as she had never been, it was a nice place, lowkey and quiet but good for a night out or even a place to study during the day. 

You both sat at the counter watching Jungkook and Yugyeom play against a few others here at the lounge, “Well, I have to be,” Your hands curled around your drink, not wanting to think about what had happened a few days earlier and it was difficult to keep up with just how many traumatising things had happened within a week, “For Jungkook’s sake...and…” You sighed softly, “It’s not like there’s anything that can be done for me right now. That’s just gonna take time…” 

“Awh, I understand. I just wish things hadn’t taken such a sharp turn, do you know when Cherry Bomb will open back up at least?’ Hyerin stirred her drink as she leaned back against the barstool, watching Yugyeom and Jungkook look like little boys triuphanting over their victory together.

“Monday, by the sound of it...But nobody is even sure if we’re gonna have a crowd, even with SSU starting that night. Regardless me and Jungkook are gonna stay busy with choreographing, he’s really excited about it.” Your lips tilted upwards a little bit at the memory of how much enthusiasm he had, you were happy to see him happy. It was just like him to be like that, “How have things been...at the dungeon with...you know...Shownu was it?” 

Hyerin snorted, taking a sip of her drink as she rolled her eyes, “Same old, same old, he causes shit, makes dom’s hate him and gets away with it.” She crumpled the paper her straw had been in as she flicked it against the countertop, “Honestly, Yugyeom wants to find a new dungeon, the drama just isn’t worth it. I’m glad you and Jungkook don’t go regularly.” 

You tilted your head as Hyerin offered a weak smile, “It’s hard enough keeping Yugyeom from beating the shit out of Shownu and getting us kicked out. Jungkook and Yugyeom together?” You let out a weak laughing, beginning to understand what she meant, “I mean they’d probably send him to the hospital…” 

“They would send him to the hospital,” You offered a weak smile, even without Yugyeom’s help Jungkook totally would, let alone with it? Hyerin was right, that was a bad mix even together, you hadn’t had the chance to talk to Yugyeom fully but you had the feeling, that despite being more relaxed then Jungkook was, he could get just as defensive as him, easily. Maybe even more so, “What is the reason Shownu is still allowed around anyways?” 

You both didn’t have the time to visit the dungeon much but you got the impression that if you did, you’d probably be a lot more involved in the drama given Jungkook’s inclination to always step in, “Ah…” Hyerin relented as she rubbed her neck, “Shownu is just good friends with a lot of the dungeon owners, and if you’re on good terms with them? You’re pretty much untouchable. I don’t know all the ends and outs but…” Hyerin frowned as she looked at her cup, “Word is that some of the girls have been disappearing at the dungeon and...Some of the dungeon owners might be involved...I don’t know. We haven’t been for the past week ever since we found out. Yugyeom wants things to clear up before we go back.” 

You shuddered at the idea, being a little to familiar with the feeling, you could understand Yugyeom’s concern, for anyone’s concern really, Jungkook would be, and is the same way, “Seems like trouble in paradise everywhere these days,” You sighed wistfully, even in the areas of your life you weren’t so involved it, were having trouble now. 

You just wanted things to become normal again, when they weren’t so tense and your only stresses were exams and being naked on stage. It seemed so...insignificant in comparison now. Things were the way they were, so you wouldn’t complain about them, and at the very least, you and Jungkook had each other and you’d make it through this. 

But still, it was hard to not wish for things to be easier again. When your life wasn’t put on the line as well as Jungkooks, which he hadn’t exactly clarified but...You couldn’t ignore your gut instinct that was telling you he was in just as dangerous of a position.

“Tell me about it,” Hyerin sighed before suddenly perking up with a thought, “Oh…! You know what,” She turned you, her smile a little shy now as she asked, “What if you came over and we hung out one night? I have tons of coloring sheets at my apartment and snacks too! Yugyeom is pretty strict about snacks but he’d totally be willing to let us have some if it was a get together!” 

Was she talking about- Oh...your face felt hot at the mention, feeling a little shy but you did like the idea, sounded like...a nice break from the harsh world you were constantly having to endure day in and day out, “Sure…! We could do it tomorrow night if you wanted? If you’re free of course!” 

Hyerin bounced in her seat in excitement, “That’s perfect! And bring as many stuffies as you want, I have a whole collection I want you to meet.” You both began giggling and Hyerin needed to shut up before she slipped and you could tell her excitement was getting the better of her. 

“Oh I know that look,” Yugyeom called out, him and Jungkook both finished with their game of pool, his smile soft at the sight of her excited bounce and wigglyness, “What are you two conspiring?” 

“Well!” Hyerin crossed her arms, looking away with a little bit of sass as she spoke proudly, “Me and Y/n are having a playdate tomorrow night and you both aren’t invited.” Your eyebrows lifted and your gaze darted away from Jungkook’s who looked both thoroughly amused and yet daring you to try and piggy back off Hyerin. 

“Oh?” Yugyeom raised his brows, somewhat amused, somewhat challenging, “And where am I supposed to stay? Our bedroom?” Hyerin’s lips parted a little before she hmphed, crossing her arms, “As long as you aren’t mean to her I don’t care.” 

“I won’t! Y/n is my friend!” Hyerin pouted a little, grabbing your arm defensively as you smiled shyly, your hands folded as Jungkook sat down next to you, pressing a kiss on your head. 

“As fun as it’s been these two need to be separated, look at them,” Jungkook snorted in amusement, his eyes dancing with affection as he tenderly stroked a hand through your hair as you curled up against his touch, “They’re gonna send each other small in excitement,” Jungkook, knowing you contained the urge to coo at you as he spoke, “What about me though? Hm? Am I excluded too?”

Your lips quivered into a pout as Jungkook smiled fondly, his hands squeezing your cheeks, “No…” You mumbled, your bottom lip jutting like a fish as his fingers pressed into your cheeks once more, the puppy expression on your face just too cute for Jungkook to resist tapping your nose, “You can be there.” 

“Oh thank you so much baby,” Jungkook whispered, unable to stop the soft coo that escaped him, your arms immediately latching around him in a hug, as you looked up at him with a bright shy smile, “You’re always so thoughtful of others huh?” He leaned down and pecked your forehead. 

“Okay yeah, I gotta take someone home,” Yugyeom sighed but he couldn’t keep the smile off his face at Hyerin now attached to him, he brushed his hand through his hair before snorting, “Well I guess I’ll see you tomorrow huh, no courtesy of you.” He pinched Hyerin’s side making her whine, “Come on sweetheart, let’s go.” Hyerin bounced a little as she hugged unto Yugyeom who only smiled. 

“We’ll see you tomorrow,” Jungkook waved them off before tutting, “You were gonna make plans and leave me out baby.” He said exasperatedly, a playful tone in his voice but you still shook your head. 

“No! That was Hyerin...I…!” You crossed your arms, a sulky glare on your face as Jungkook chuckled, “That wasn’t me!” You whined, leaning against Jungkook as he wrapped an arm around you, “She just thought it would be fun to get together and- and I just thought!” 

“Thought what?” Jungkook smiled boyishly as he raised his brows in amusement, “Thought what baby? Don’t leave me hanging.”

“Thought it’d be nice to just not have to deal with everything for the night,” You mumbled, feeling a bit shy to admit it. You had felt self conscious when it came to anything about age regression, things had gotten a little better since you had talked to Jungkook about it but you were still a bit shy and admittedly...being with someone like Hyerin, who did the same thing, it made you feel, not so self conscious. 

“Well you’re more than welcome to at any time now that we’re gonna be together all the time baby,” Jungkook clacked his tongue, a playful smile on his face as he pressed a kiss to your head once more, “Buy hey, it’ll be a good way to relax tomorrow because we’re working the rest of today and all of tomorrow on your dances since we go back Monday. We’re gonna be cramming baby.” 

You whined at his arm squeezing you making a flutter of giggles escape you, pressing your head against him as he affectionately pressed a kiss on top of your head once more, “Are you ready to go then baby? We got lots to do at the apartment.” You supposed, Jungkook was right, and admittedly, you were looking forward to working with him on it. 

“No….No...Baby come on, I know you can do better than this.” 

You stomped your foot as you turned to Jungkook who was laid out on the couch, though obviously not impressed with your choreography was clearly enjoying the show regardless, a boyish smile crossed his lips at the sight of your annoyed expression. 

“Instead of sitting there just staring at my ass why don’t you help if you don’t like it!?” You crossed your arms, a sulky pout on your face as he chuckled, sitting up before walking over to you, his arms on your shoulder as he pushed you back to the pole. 

“I am helping,” He whispered playfully in your ear as you felt your face go red, shoving him a little as he laughed, “I’m being the audience, and I can tell you the audience won’t care for it.” 

You groaned as you rolled your eyes, crossing your arms once more in frustration, “Then help me! What would look better oh sex dance master.” 

“I am the sex dance master,” Jungkook retorted with a chuckle, that stupid smile on his face as you puffed a childish breath, “And instead of starting out leaning on the pole like every other basic bitch, you should start laying down, and kick your feet up onto the pole.” 

“Did you just call me basic!?” You cried out, Jungkook only looked down at you, a smile still on his face as you groaned, grabbing your head as you looked up at him in disbelief. 

“Why don’t you lay down baby,” Jungkook redirected only more amused at your cry of frustration before complying, laying down on your back you set your feet up against the pole. Jungkook kneeled down as he nodded, “Mhm, and just…” He grabbed your wrists delicately, crossing them before he pulled them up over your head. 

Standing up he backed away a little, “Arch your back a little,” 

“I’m laying down.” You complained as you twisted your head to look up at him. 

“Arch your back.” Jungkook repeated more firmly, making you heave a sigh, uncomfortably curving your spine as best you could, “Now lift your chin a little,” You frowned before doing so, “Okay, okay, and...close your eyes and act sexy.” Your lips threatened to curve into a smile as you snorted, doing so, “That’s not sexy.” 

“I’m trying my best,” You opened your eyes, lips jutting a little as you glared up at him, “And this is my best.” Jungkook rolled his eyes, a smile tugging on his lips as he sat back down, “I’ve seen your best sweetheart, that’s not it. Now start the routine from there, do a few kicks or whatever you want from here before getting up.” 

Closing your eyes you sighed, trying to come up with something and the only thing you could think of however was letting one leg slide down the pole before slowly extending it back up, extending your other leg off the pole before walking them a little. Letting your feet lean to the left a little you lowered them to the floor before lifting your upper body up, looking at Jungkook who shrugged, tipping his soda can at you making you whine, “Bad?” 

His face scrunched a little and he hesitated for a second, “It’s not terrible...but you could do better. First move was nice, second was a little lacking and you know they think it’s cooler when you’re actually on the pole.” 

Laying back down you set your legs back on the pole, “So leg down is fine,” You lowered your leg to your chest once more, “extension is fine?” 

“That’s a good part,” Jungkook nodded, “Now do walk, walk,” You mirrored his words with your each little step, “Just two, then take your feet to the left and lift up. Don’t prolong it. Now lift your arms up and grab on with reverse.” 

You could strip yes, but...pole dancing….? It came with the trade but you still weren’t what one would consider your strong suit. Carefully you placed your hands in reverse grip, “Now pull yourself up.” This was easy! You pulled yourself, feeling triumphant, taking a few steps before adjusting your grip and doing a fan kick to the front. 

“There you go baby,” Jungkook nodded approvingly, his lips curled in that proud smile of his as he leaned back in his seat, “ You couldn’t help but feel shy at his words but continued with one more step before letting go of the pole, pressing your back against it as you slowly slid down to a pole sit, “My thighs are burning,” You whined, “You think I should do a button up for this?” You fiddled with pretend buttons before pushing yourself up. 

“I think,” Jungkook stood up, walking over before squeezing your chin, “You should do what you think is best, baby. I’m here to help not coach.” He whispered as you tried to push him away with a giggle as he pulled you back closer, “For what it’s worth I think you look pretty sexy no matter what.” 

“Stop! You whispered back feeling flustered and giggly pulling away from him as a closed mouth smile tugged on his lips, sitting back down on the couch his eyes were only slightly lidded but you could see what that meant from a mile away. 

“You know what baby? I think we might need to brush up on your lap dancing again,” Jungkook opened his arms, his thighs parting comfortably as he gestured you to his lap, your body immediately warmed as you whined a little, unable to deny him as you shuffled to stand in front of him, attempting to sit on his lap but his hand latched onto your hips stopping you, “Ah...what are you supposed to do before a lap dance baby?” 

You whined again as you shuffled in spot, Jungkook clicked his tongue, his hands tugging down your sweatpants to reveal your panties, you had anticipated getting laid today leaving you in a plain cotton underwear making you semi shy, Jungkook wasn’t having it though as he tugged you onto his lap, “Stop whining,” he whispered in your ear, his hands gripping your thighs before making their way to your ass, “And start making me feel good baby, show me how you do it.” 

You couldn’t resist pressing your face into his neck as your hips began circling against him, you could feel his cock beginning to stir as he let out a soft moan. 

His grip softening on your ass and his hands guided them ever so slightly, your clit beginning to rub just the right way on his jeans making you whine, “Mmph…! Jungkook!” Your hips becoming more desperate as you began grinding on him harder as your clit throbbed pathetically. His hands patiently guided your hips as he suckled tenderly on your neck. 

“That’s it baby, get those panties nice and messy for me.” He moaned softly, his hands squishing the cheeks of your ass in appreciation as you continued to grind against the the growing bulge in his pants, burying your face further into his shoulder as you whined.

“You’re not supposed to touch me during a lap dance…!” This wasn’t fair! Jungkook only squeezed your ass even harder making you jump a little as you were suddenly jostled onto the couch.

“You call that a lap dance baby? I’ve seen you do better.” Jungkook clicked his tongue as confusion washed over you as to what he was doing before you squeaked at one leg being straddled over him, your hands grabbing his stomach for some sort of support but that clearly wasn’t what Jungkook was aiming for, he carelessly pushed your back making you collapse down grabbing his thighs. 

Your face like it was burning at the realization of what position you were in, “...Jungkook!” You whined trying to pathetically crawl away from how close his face was to your throbbing cunt. It was expected for him to forcibly pull you back, a hand slamming against your ass making you squirm with a whimper, “Don’t wanna hear one word about it sweet heart, you know what I want you to do?” Jungkook’s voice dripped patronizingly, “I want you to suck that cock and if you do a good job maybe I’ll give this little cunt a good reward.” 

His hands left no room for debate as you whimpered at the feeling of your panties sticking to your cunt, your hands fumbled with the hem of his sweats before pushing them down along the Calvin Klein’s he was sporting today. His cock bounced in search of you as your lips quivered a little, sure you had slept together too many times to count now but...it didn’t ever make it less intimidating to blow him, especially in a compromising position such as this.

Sucking it up though you positioned yourself onto your forearms before giving a small lick to his irritated tip that was already beginning to dribble with precum, “Don’t you fuckin’ tease baby. That’s not what I asked.” Jungkook growled, his hips lifting a little in chase of your tongue and you couldn’t stop the little giggle that escaped you as you gave another kitten lick to his tip once more. 

Jungkook’s teeth gritted before you squeaked at the feeling of your panties being ripped off at the sides, “Jungkook…! Those were expensive!” Sure they were loungewear but that didn’t make them any cheater!  Jungkook ignored your whine though as you whimpered at his tongue suddenly pressing onto your sensitive little bud, a gasp escaping you as you lowered gaze despite not even being able to look at him, “Mmph…! Jungkook…” you mumbled, your cheeks burning and your hips unable to resist rocking against his tongue as your eyes squeezed shut.

A hand harshly striked the cheek of your ass making you jump as you whimpered, Jungkook’s tongue immediately being removed from your clit, “Suck, suck it you little cockslut, make that mouth useful baby.” Not wanting to prolong any sort of punishment you did as told, positioning yourself as best you could before taking his tip inside your mouth, suckling along his head tender before slowly bobbing your head to take him further.

Jungkook’s hands softened against your hips and you heard a low moan from him before his tongue rewardingly met your clit again, the notion had your thighs squeezing against his head and another whine vibrating against his cock as your head began to bob faster around his cock before you pulled off him to take a deep shaky breath at his persistence in suckling your clit.

Jungkook’s hands guiding your ass to ride against his tongue as your eyes squeezed shut tightly, “Mm! Jungkook…!” It was hard to focus on any sort of task when he was putting you through this, his hands squeezed warningly immediately putting you back to work.

Your hand wrapped around the base of his cock before lightly tugging it, your tongue dragging on the sensitive underside of his shaft. 

A hiss escaped Jungkook’s and his impatience attempting to get the better of him as his hands squeezed your ass before his mouth attached back to your clit, suckling and pressing his tongue down against it, flicking it rapidly making it difficult for you to do anything escape whimper against his cock as you attempted to keep the same energy for him. 

Squeezing a little on his base you took his tip back inside your mouth before bobbing your head as your legs trembled from the force of his tongue roughly playing with your clit, a hand smacking your ass making you jump but your hips were forced to stay in place with no choice but to take it as your eyes began to water. 

Taking his cock further into your mouth intending to go all the way until it hit the back of your throat, you could feel the pleased expression from Jungkook due to his moans of contentment on your cunt, his hands soothingly rubbing your thighs in coax to keep going for him. Wanting to please you hurriedly took a deep breath before slowly sinking further down his cock, your throat immediately stinging unpleasantly and your eyes watering as you heard low moans and long sigh of contentment from Jungkook, “Mmm, what a good girl, so good baby, keep going, keep sucking that cock.” His lips parted, dragging his tongue back to your clit making you gag on his cock as you whined, backing your hips further against his face in desperation. 

You bobbed your head sloppier at the feeling of his tongue delicately flicking your clit before he wrapped his lips around the tiny bud, something about the sensation sending you feral as the orgasm suddenly lit through your veins making you gag and whimper as your body squirmed against him. 

Jungkook’s hips lifted a little at the feeling of your mouth wrapped so tight around him, “Ah fuck! Such a good little slut for me baby, fuuck.” Jungkook let his head rest back on the couch as he sighed contently, his hands soothingly squeezing your ass cheeks as his lips parted a little, “Shit, shit baby! Mmm.” Your throat was painfully stinging and salvia was pooling down your chin before you pulled off him briefly to take a deep breath, “Such a good girl baby,” Jungkook cooed coaxingly, “C’mon baby, ride that cock for me, wanna watch you go dumb on my dick.” 

You whined a little, wiping your face with your arm before you carefully further down the couch, Jungkook’s hands guiding your hips to stop just at his cock which was bobbing in seek of friction. Your walls felt empty clenching around nothing and you wasted no time changing that. 

Sinking down on his tip you closed your eyes as a shallow moan escaped you, the feeling of his thick shaft splitting you open as you began bouncing on top of him. 

“Fuck baby, what a nice little wet cunt, keep going sweetheart, keep fucking going.” Jungkook inhaled through his teeth, trying to compose himself from wildly slamming himself into you like he wanted too, “Faster baby, I know you can take it.” You whine, lowering onto your forearms for more leverage as your hips started bouncing faster, your walls clenching around him harshly and his tip hitting all the right spots inside you as you whined with a shaky breath, sinking all the way down on him slowly before wiggling your hips. 

This notion made something inside Jungkook twitch before he growled impatiently, his tip nearing an angry bright red as he pulled out of you making you jolt a little as you shifted, being broken out of trance as you whined, “Jungkook…!” He wasn’t having any of it though, sitting up he shoved you further down onto the couch making you whimper as he yanked your hips up. 

“I know my little baby was having her fun but do you feel this?” Jungkook situated himself on his knee’s, your cunt presented to him as he slapped his cock against it as your lips quivered, “That’s your fault babydoll.” You didn’t even have a chance to defend yourself before the head of his cock pushed inside you once more only this time being at his complete mercy before Jungkook took liberty and slammed into you.

Your body was being jolted and your hands were hanging onto the couch arm for dear life as you cried out, “Ah! Fuck, fuck, Jungkook…!” You whined at the force his hips were slamming into you at, Jungkook was having none of it though, reaching out as he grabbed a fist full on your hair yanking it as his balls slapped against your skin hard enough to make you weak in the legs. 

“Don’t wanna hear a single word from you baby, you’re gonna be my little fucking cum dump yeah?” Jungkook’s breath was hot against your neck as his cock pushed before inside you, staying nice and snug in your cunt as he roughly thrusted harder into you making your body jostle with every motion. 

Just the thought had your walls squeezing around him as he moaned, “That’s right baby, you want this tiny cunt to be used to take all my cum? My little cumslut.” Jungkook’s jaw clenched at how loud you were beginning to moan, your body withering and shaking which was only giving him more motivation to keep going, his hips slamming harder and harder as your thighs trembled and had a harder time staying up.

“Go on baby, cum all of this cock, I can feel this little cunt wanting it, cum.” Jungkook nearly barked out with a growl, his cheating pressing against your back now, letting go of your hair in trade of your throat as he squeezed it tight making a breathy moan escape you, your vision nearly blacking out at how hard you abruptly came again, not even registering how loud you were moaning and whining beneath him. 

Jungkook pressed his forehead against your shoulder blades as he swore with gritted teeth, his hips burying inside you as he let himself go, hot substance shooting up inside you as he moaned softly, swiveling his hips a little to ride out his orgasm as he buried his face into your neck, “Fuck baby, feels so good.” He mumbled with a rasp as he pecked a kiss on your neck. 

Your body was rapidly trembling and you could hardly even speak as you melted into the couch trying to wrap your brain around how hard you just got railed.

Jungkook happily nuzzled into your neck, a small smile on his face as he began pressing kisses into your neck, “Love my baby so much, you did such a good job.” His hands rubbed against your waist approvingly making you wiggle a little, a tiny smile on your lips as you mumbled, “Were you mad at me…?” 

Jungkook’s nose nudged the crook of your neck against as he shifted a little to lay on top of you, his cock slipping from you making your legs twitch a little as he pressed another kiss on the back of your neck this time, “No? Jus’ wanted to fuck you senseless,” You huffed as he chuckled a little, “You weren’t complaining baby, say it back.” He poked your side as you wiggled a little, “C’mon say it, I wanna hear you say it baby.” 

You whined a little before wiggling, managing to turn yourself over to lay on your back, “Love you too Koo.” Jungkook practically looked like he was glowing as he collapsed against your chest, tiny kisses being placed on your collar bones as you cocooned yourself against him, happily soaking in all of the attention.

Note: It’s been such a cute little break in the story guys!!! I hope you’re prepared for the final four chapters coming up soon because !!! things get a little intense!!

(Taglist CLOSED)

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[kwonhoshi0]

𝐛𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐮𝐩 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐛𝐢𝐠 𝐭𝐡𝐫𝐞𝐞 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐢𝐫 𝐬𝐚𝐟𝐞𝐭𝐲 | h.c

navigation | requests : open | 5th february 2021

pairing : midoriya, bakugou, todoroki x gn!reader [separate]

genre : angst to fluff

warnings : season 3 spoilers, violence, eating, drinks

themes : heartbreak, idiocy, violence

: since the training camp you had been a target for the league of villains you fought hard to get your classmate back and that made you an instant target since you showed how powerful you can be but that also means no one can know about your relationship with [ - ], if they did that would be mean he’s also a target and the thought of that terrified you, so it’s for the best.. right.

> quirk : telekinesis | eleven stranger things |

[ midoriya ]

> it was no secret that you’re powerful

> deku trained with you a lot so he knew what you were capable of

> he was the one who truly let you embrace your quirk praising you

> he always told you he’s proud of you afterwards

> so when you told him you couldn’t be with him anymore he was devastated

-> scenario

> you had been thinking about the threat of the lov and how much they wanted to get rid of you, it’s a matter of time before people catch you going to cafes and on dates with the green haired boy, since you were getting more publicity each time a villain attacked it was difficult sneaking around

> breaking up with deku never once crossed your mind, only for his safety, he was already a target but they don’t know he’s all mights successor so you’re still a lot more targeted but if the lov found out you’re dating? you could only imagine the worst

> you knocked on his door, he opened it with a smile on his face as usual ‘hey baby’ he pulled you into a hug, noticing you trying not to hug him back he looked at your face ‘hey is something wrong?’

> you were trying so hard to keep a straight face, to make this hurt as much as possible so he wouldn’t come back, you knew if he tried to get you back you wouldn’t be able to resist

> ‘izuku..’ you paused breathing in, ‘we can’t be together anymore’ he looked at you for a couple seconds before breaking out in a laugh, ‘ very funny, don’t say things like that!, we need to finish that series we were watching..wait-’

> your face hadn’t changed, the only different being the small beads forming under your eyes, ‘you’re being serious?’ he said with a shaky voice, his eyes were slightly shiny tears threatening to form, his entire face fell

> ‘i’m sorry’ was all you said before you attempted to leave only being stopped by his hand ‘midoriya let go-’

> ‘not until you tell me why, y/n we’re so happy, you were happy yesterday and now you’re saying you don’t want this anymore? what happened, you told me you loved me, was that a lie’

> you tried so so hard not to sob yelling how much you love him right there but you already started crying

> ‘y-you’re crying, why would you be crying if you don’t care about me, if you didn’t care you would’ve left minutes ago so why’

> ‘izuku i couldn’t keep putting you in fucking danger it’s driving me insane, we can’t go out to eat without worrying someone will recognise us and hunt you down, i need you to be safe and this is the only way’ you pulled your arm away from him wiping away the tears on your cheeks

> he pulled you back towards him his nose touching yours, you didn’t push him away, he took his thumb swiping it across your cheek wiping it of the fresh tears

> ‘then we’ll deal with it together, not apart’

[ bakugou ]

> he knew how you felt because everytime aizawa mentioned being targeted he couldn’t help but notice you not looking at him or glancing at him as much

> you comforted him after each nightmare or any doubts he had after he got kidnapped

> whispering to him while he layed in your arms ‘bakugou you are the strongest person i know, you can’t blame yourself for anything, nobody blames you, they never have’

> you were his comfort, his teddybear

-> scenario

> the last few days you had been distant from him which didn’t make him worry much since you’re both busy sometimes and you both understood that

> but when you refused to look at him and gave him short answers after class he got worried

> ‘y/n, what the fuck is happening’ you couldn’t look him in the eyes

> you put on your best straight face and said ‘bakugou we can’t be together’

> there was silence for a couple seconds

> ‘teddy bear..’

> it hurt, it hurt so bad seeing him upset over you, you couldn’t even comfort him, so you left

> you sat with the dekusquad afraid of running into him and sobbing

> after you left he stood there for a couple seconds, he wiped away a couple tears forming as all the memories of you flashed through his head in a second, he held the necklace you got together, a promise necklace

> he sat at his normal table not talking to anyone only glancing at you, you weren’t talking to anyone either, not even touching the food in front of you

> after a couple minutes you got up and grabbed your bag after the many protests from todoroki and midoriya telling you to eat

> mina saw you getting up ‘hey bakugou is y/n okay?’ he only ignored her watching as you hurried off to what seemed to be the girls bathrooms, mina followed after you. he couldn’t lie and say he wasn’t worried

> ‘y/n?.. wait are you okay, come out of the toilets’ she watched as you slowly came out with puffy under eyes and teary eyes ‘oh my god y/n what happened’, you explained everything, how you broke up with him because of how dangerous it was being with him, how he would be safer without you

> ‘y/n i’ve never seen bakugou happier then when he’s with you, if things are meant to be with you two then things will work out, i promise’

> you both walked back to class only to see him and a couple students already there, you weren’t planning on going back to lesson saying you’re injured but you knew aizawa would’ve sent you to recovery girl only for there be nothing to recover from

> you sat in your seat trying your hardest not to cry or move or even glance at him

> he watched you every couple seconds, eyes softening when he noticed a tear drop from your eyes watching as you quickly wiped them away sitting up straight

> he knew you love him but he doesn’t know why you left him

> a couple days past and he couldn’t help but notice how puffy your eyes looked

> he missed you, a lot and his nightmares had increased in the last 3 days

> you did everything to avoid him

> but finally you had to talk to eachother because aizawa paired you up, you asked aizawa if you could swap ‘y/n you and bakugou are great training partners, plus he doesn’t hurt you enough to send you to recovery girl like he does others’

> you sighed walking to your designated training area

> you didn’t want to hurt him more than you have emotionally this past week so you barely tried

> ‘you’re not trying’ he states, you looked up at him regretting it instantly seeing his eyebags and crimson eyes, not twinkling as they usually do

> ‘sorry’ you said quickly getting ready to dodge again

> ‘for what’... ‘huh?’.. ‘what are you sorry for’ he said searching your eyes for an answer

> ‘everything’.. ‘y/n that’s not a fucking answer’ frustrated he walked over to you pulling out a necklace that hid under his shirt

> ‘we got these as a fucking promise, a promise we would always be here, are you even wearing yours’ his hand reached over to your neck, his eyes lit up for a second when he realised you were still wearing it

> ‘i know you still love me, so why the fuck-’

> ‘bakugou you’re in constant fucking danger because of me, we can’t do anything together without having to worry, i want you to find someone that you can be in a normal relationship with, not someone who can’t even go outside with you without fearing the worst’ you let a couple tears slip out wiping them away as fast a they came

> ‘don’t be fucking stupid come here’ he pulled you towards him engulfing you in his scent which you missed greatly, ‘dumbass, we make these fuckin decisions together, which means you have to deal with me, we aren’t breaking up over some stupid villains alright’

> you held him tighter than you have before

> he made sure that for now you order take out rather than going out to eat and when you do go outside you made sure to wear masks and go with some of your classmates

> he does all of this because he loves you that much and he cares that much

[ todoroki ]

> you pined over eachother for months before todoroki had the courage to talk to you

> the conversations always flowed really well and there was no awkward pauses thinking of what to say

> you fit with eachother like a puzzle piece

> since you’re the first person he’s felt this way about you had to, show him affection and how it w o r k s?

> like when you hug him he doesn’t understand why people like hugging until you do it, he feels warm and safe in your arms and he now understands why he sees people hugging a lot

> when you first kissed it was like sparks and fireworks were going off around you, you didn’t plan on kissing him then but you had just hugged him so he was close and you looked up at him as he looked down at you smiling a little, with that you closed the space between you pressing your lips to his

> your relationship since then has been a comfortable and safe relationship for you both, that was until the training camp incident when you realised how much danger you were really putting todoroki in

> aizawa was talking to you in the staff room about the safety precautions you had to take and how you have to be careful with your relationship with todoroki

> a part of you was hoping he’d say you have to break up for safety reasons but he knows you don’t want that, even if it was for the best

> todoroki is going to be an amazing hero who will save thousands of lives and you could be the undoing of that future

> so you had to do it

-> scenario

> ‘hey love, what are we doing outside’ you were stood outside the dorms, you wanted to tell him here just so no one would interrupt

> ‘i uhm..’ this is a lot harder than you thought

> you looked at your feet refusing to look into his eyes knowing you’d breakdown

> ‘todoroki i can’t do this.. anymore’ 

> ‘can’t do what?’ when you didn’t look at him again he realised

> ‘what.. what happened baby we were normal yesterday did i do something wrong?’ you ignored him shifting your feet a little

> ‘do you not love me anymore’ it broke your heart that he thought that, you’re doing this because you love him not because you don’t .. but you had to say this to get him away

> ‘i..no i don’t’

> refusing to look at his face you ran back in tears falling down your cheeks as you ignored your friends asking if you’re okay and shut yourself in your room

> no more laying on his chest while you talk about random things at 3am, no more feeding him soba and no more holding hands running in the rain

> it was all too good to be true and now it’s over

> the next couple weeks you wanted to see him, check how he was doing but you couldn’t so you stuck to quick glances, sometimes you met his eyes in the process cursing at yourself

> your friends noticed you were off, ochako midoriya and iida asked why you weren’t hanging out with them

> you didn’t want to cause todoroki more pain so you hung out with the bakusquad so todoroki could stick with his friends without it being awkward

> you’re already friends with some of the bakusquad but you just didn’t hang out with them as much

> ‘y/n why do you look so.. lifeless’ denki asked you, you would usually be happy to talk to people and be playful but recently you had just stared at your food and soba only to be reminded of him

> ‘i don’t know’ you lied, your friends were worried about you

> todoroki was good at hiding things, he was a lot happier with you smiling while with you and around you but now he doesn’t have you

> a part of you thought he was over it already but you knew that was just you overthinking it

> ‘you know what, we should have a class movie night !, mopey you’re coming’ you looked at mina for a second before realising you’re who she’s talking to

> ‘mopey’ you raised a brow, ‘yeah you haven’t been yourself lately we want the old y/n back!! ..you haven’t even gamed with us’ kirishima spoke up making you smile sadly

> and then you realised todoroki probably won’t be at the movie night since he only went because of you ‘okay, ill go’

> that night you sat inbetween denki and bakugou scrolling through your phone while the dekubakusquad picked a movie

> ‘hey dumbass, why’d you look so fuckin dead’

> ‘not sure’.... ‘that’s bullshit’ he responded staring at his own phone

> ‘mhm’ was all you could say before the movie started

> as you looked up you realised todoroki was sitting in front of you

> how were you going to get through this..

> the movie begun and you quickly realised it was one of your favourite movies, it was the movie that you and todoroki had your first kiss watching

> clearing your head of these thoughts you carried on watching

> half an hour later it got to the part where the guy finally kisses his crush and you felt tears in your eyes, holding them back as you remembered todoroki kissing you during this scene

> you felt someone move from in front of you, your eyes widening as todoroki took your arm pulling you up close to him

> ‘what are you-’

> ‘y/n i chose this movie because i wanted to be able to do this again’ he cupped your cheeks smashing his lips to yours, you couldn’t pull away this is all you wanted and missed

> as you both pulled away he said ‘i know you don’t love me but i want to help you learn to love me again and i prom-’ you cut him off as you felt guilt bubble up inside of you remembering what you said

> ‘i lied.. i said that i didn’t love you because i needed you to leave, i broke up with you because of the target, i can’t have someone finding out about us and using you and hurting you as a way to get to me i would be taking away your chance at becoming a great hero, i can’t do that it’s selfish’

> he looked at you as the sides of his lips curled up in a small smile

> ‘a part of me should be mad at you for breaking up with me because of hero stuff but i understand, i’m relieved you love me, i love you and you love me that’s why we’re going to be careful and make this work’

A/N :

pain only pain, why do i do this

taglist : @blazedbakugou @todoroki-shoto-is-life @luluwiie