#and i said i’m not going to call until he apologizes which is silly cause he won’t but someone has to try to put some boundaries down with

[therosevest]

i think i should be allowed to kill my dad

[msmk11]

Don’t Care Less

therapist!Remus Lupin x gn!reader

Word count: 1k

CW: really not much; angst ig since reader is crying and upset but mainly just hurt/comfort

Summary: Your therapist, Remus, cares about you more than he should.

A/n: Hey all! Here’s a cutie little Remus fic for you. Idk what inspired me to write this but I can always use a little Remus comfort in my life :) I hope you can too!

No decent person liked to see others in distress, Remus Lupin included. But he could handle it. That’s why he was a therapist. Because he had thick enough skin to handle seeing people in pain, he decided to use it to actually help others. This had been true all of his life- until now. And you were the cause.

You- one of his newest clients and maybe also his prettiest. Scratch that, you were not only his prettiest client, but also the prettiest person he’d ever seen. With your big, soft eyes, enticing lips, and crooked smile, you had consumed all of Remus’ thoughts. His little crush on you, however, had made it very hard for him to do his job. Especially when you were crying.

Remus didn’t just dislike seeing you in distress, he hated it. It took everything in his power to not just swoop you up into his arms, brush your tears away, and kiss you silly until you’d forgotten all your problems. Alas, you were his client and he valued both his job and your trust. So as you sat across from him, tears streaming down your face and head in your hands, he was using all his restraint.

You’d been sobbing for about five minutes straight now, and it hadn’t lessened up.

Remus shifted forward in his seat and handed you the tissue box as a sort of peace offering. You weakly took one and blew your nose, trying to quiet your sobs.

“I’m, s-sorry,” you hiccuped, “once I started crying I just couldn’t stop.”

The brunette smiled warmly at you, “what have I said about apologizing? This is a sorry free zone.”

You gave him a faint, teary smile, and he was pretty sure his heart broke on the spot.

“Sor-“ You caught yourself before apologizing and had the decency to look sheepish.

Remus stood and went to get you a cup of water from the water jug in the corner. You accepted it with shaking hands and greedily gulped it down.

When you finished, you crumpled the cup and looked at him across the table, “I guess I didn’t realize how much I had pent up inside me. When something shitty happens, I guess I just push it down and move on. Because if I let every problem get to me, I’d fall apart. I’d never be able to put myself back together.”

“It’s your coping mechanism,” he said, understanding in his eyes, “which I’m glad you have, but it also can’t be your go to all the time. Holding it in isn’t healthy.”

Your bottom lip quivered a little, “I know. God, I know. It’s just a hard habit to break. When I’ve been doing it all my life, I don’t know any other way.”

Remus let out the smallest of laughs, “trust me, I know what you mean. Even to this day, I’m a chronic represser. It certainly feels easier to just ignore the problem. But it never really solves anything. And then it comes back ten times worse the next time.”

“Well, how do I stop it? How did you stop?”

Remus took a small sip of his tea and then looked at you honestly, “I haven’t fully stopped doing it, but I’ve gotten better. I’ve found people in my life who can hold me accountable. Who call me out when they see me trying to bottle up my feelings. I’ve found someone I can trust to talk to. Can you think of someone?”

You seem deep in thought over his question and the little furrow that formed in your brows made him swoon.

“Well, I, uh,” you paused nervously and Remus nodded at you to continue, “you. I guess. You’re the only person in my life that I feel like I can truly trust.”

“Though I guess I pay for your trust so I’m not sure that counts all that much,” you added with a slightly bitter scoff.

Remus’ heart both warmed at your confession that you trusted him the most, and also ached. You were right, of course. You did just pay him to be here. But how could he tell you that he actually cared so much more? That he cared about you after hours, out of the office, at all times of the day.

“Of course it counts,” he choked out, “sure, you pay me to be here, but I also want to. I’m a therapist because I care about people and about helping them. I care about helping you.”

And then, ever so quietly, he said, “maybe even a little more than I should.”

Your eyes shot up to meet his gaze and you were shocked by its sincerity. You think you might’ve shuddered a little and so you gripped your arms, pretending it was just cold, though you’d never felt warmer.

He stood and slowly moved around the table towards you, “I know it’s unprofessional, but I care about every little thing about you. When you smile I feel happier. When you cry I want to hurt whoever hurt you. Every time you tell me a little tidbit of information about your life, I soak it up, committing it to memory like my life depends on it. And I’ve tried to care less. I really have. But I can’t help it.”

“Please don’t,” you responded quietly. So quietly, he almost missed it.

“Don’t what?” He asked with bated breath.

“Care less.”

Remus was sure his heart stopped.

“Please,” you nearly pleaded, and then Remus was at your side. He drew your hands into his.

“I don’t think I ever can.”

You looked at him with these hopeful, begging eyes and he couldn’t resist you anymore. He pulled you close to him and placed the tenderest of kisses to your forehead. You nearly melted under his touch.

“What about your job?” You murmured into his chest.

He pulled away a little and looked into your eyes seriously, “we’ll find you someone else to see. And they won’t be better than me, but that’ll be okay, cause I’ll still be there. I’ll just be more than the ‘professional help’- as someone who doesn’t just care about you, but cares for you.”

“I, I’d like that very much, Remus.”

And his name sounded so good rolling off your lips for the first time, he had to restrain himself, yet again, from kissing you silly.

[pixelmensupremacy]

May i request a DBH fic? The moment they realized they fell in love with reader. May i request Gavin and the RK bros

A/N: Honestly, I don't why it took me so long to get this out. Either way that's an interesting request, Nonny! Here's my take on the dbh boys realizing they have feelings for the reader.

Warnings: GN!reader, it's implied that reader is shorter, pretty much fluffy stuff, not proof read

Gavin

Being his snarky self, Gavin would be jokingly flirty at first not thinking much of it

Until he began sensing a warmth every time (Y/N) laughed at his silly jokes and sarcastic comments

Before he knew it, he was always spending his free time with (Y/N)

Going into the breakroom, whenever he noticed they were there

Greeting them every morning with a genuine smile on his face

Vibrant morning sunrays hit (Y/N) skin as walked into the building of the Detroit police department. It was quiet except for the usual sound of mouse clicks and the occasional phone ring. A bright smile curled the corners of their lips at the sight of their partner Gavin Reed.

"Morning, Reed!" Enthusiasm was evident in their voice; his attention was immediately anchored to them and their face, which he found absolutely adorable. Affected by their happy expression, he couldn't help but smile back at them.

"Somebody call the cops because it’s got to be illegal to look that good!" He eyed the from head to toe, causing them to shyly look away.

Interestingly enough, it was the colleagues at the department that noticed the change first

His longing to constantly be in (Y/N)'s company was obvious to everyone else but Gavin and (Y/N)

Happy to finally see Gavin break character and soften, his colleagues would tease him every once in a while

While on the other hand (Y/N) would get overwhelmed with questions such as "Did you put him under a spell?"

I feel like Gavin will distance himself once he realizes that his feelings toward (Y/N) are more than just a silly crush

Progressively he will grow colder to (Y/N)

He would find himself in a rabbit hole of repressed emotions and anxieties, connected to his past, which will ultimately lead to avoiding (Y/N)

Hurt and confused, (Y/N) wouldn't give up on reaching out to him but with little to no success

Until they give up, which in return pains Gavin even more

Suddenly he will have to deal not only with the fear of abandonment but also the consequences of said fear taking over him

I like to imagine Hank will be quick to notice the distance formed between the two and will talk to Gavin

Knowing him since his rookie days, Hank is one of the few people who know quite a lot about Gavin, which helps him in advising the detective

Eventually, thanks to Hank's help, Gavin will be able to realize that by avoiding his problems he made things worse

He will want to apologize to (Y/N) for hurting them

“I know I’ve been a total ass the past few weeks, but maybe I can make it up to you. (Y/N) silently gaze at him as if they weren’t sure if this was a dream or reality.

“There’s new restaurant down the block and I thought maybe..” He went on all the while studying their face. “Maybe we could check it out?”

Much to his delight, they agree

The two have the time of their life, catching up like nothing ever happened

And even getting closer

“So,” He spoke up, hot puffs of air escaping his mouth. “Are we even?”

(Y/N) swayed back and forth on their feet, overdoing the time it took them to answer.

“I’m afraid a single date won’t be enough, Reed.” Their hand reached for his neck, bringing his face closer to theirs; their lips touched his in a soft and delicate kiss that left him wanting more.

“Your wish is my command.” (Y/N) giggled, causing a warmth to spread in his chest, despite the cold of the November night.

Markus

Markus is definitely the type of person, who looks for a friend first and a lover second

So, I expect him to fall for (Y/N) after they have gotten to know each other

His feelings for them will slowly but surely progress into a sensation he's never felt before

Even if the thought of (Y/N) wouldn't leave his mind, he would be reluctant to share that with them

Or at least not verbally

Being the altruist he is, his love language would be one of service

Anyway he could, he would help

Standing on their tippy toes, (Y/N) struggled to reach the contents of the top shelf; even the chair they were standing on seemed to not help much. Passing by the kitchen, Markus’ attention was caught by the creaking of the chair and (Y/N)’s puffs and quiet curses. With a puzzled expression, he walked up to them and took a glance at what they were doing.

Reaching with a hand near theirs, he took a hold of a box of cereal; electrical shock ran through (Y/N)’s entire body at the slight brush of his cold skin against theirs.

“Is this what you were looking for?” They nodded as they got down.

“Yeah, thanks.” (Y/N)  took the box with a bright smile on their face that caused his circuits to malfunction, resulting in LED lighting up in a vibrant amber color.

Though he will eventually come to realize that his desire to help (Y/N) exceeded past just his typical friendly behavior

He desired to be by their side at all times

He will absolutely melt if (Y/N) were to compliment him

The enchanting melody filled the space, alluring (Y/N) the source of the sound. Letting the music take over them, their steps were in perfect sync with the rhythm of the song; it almost felt as if time stopped and they have found themselves in a wonderland- one they couldn’t imagine even in their wildest dreams.

The volume grew louder so did the effect of the melody upon (Y/N); seeing a door, they weren’t surprised to see Markus sat before the piano. His slender fingers stroked the snow-white keys, the impact of his firm, yet delicate, touch made for a captivating melody akin to the song of a siren that drew in sailors in the dead of night.

Much like a sailor, bewitched by a magnificent siren, (Y/N) stood and watched as his composition tingled their every sense. Not long after did Markus sense their presence; startled by their sudden appearance, he stopped playing.

“Why did you stop?” Disappointment was written in their expression.

“I didn’t expect to have an audience.” He made a reply in a bashful manner, his colorful eyes avoiding theirs.

“I love it when you play the piano.” (Y/N) began as they neared him. “No matter how many times I hear you play it’s never the same. It’s truly fascinating.” There was a spark in their eyes as they spoke that caused a tingling sensation to occur in his thirium pump. Was he malfunctioning?

Markus will definitely confess once the revolution is successful and he feels safe enough to have another person in his life

Connor

He's completely oblivious

Never in his short life did he expect to feel let alone fall in love

So, he's very confused when he experiences system malfunctions in (Y/N)'s presence

He constantly runs system checks only to get confused when the results show no apparent errors

Despite being a prototype, created to unravel complicated cases with ease, it takes him some time to figure out it's (Y/N) that causes these malfunctions

Of course, not without Hank's help

Enamored by the enigma surrounding them, Connor couldn’t help but stare at them and wonder: why they caused such reactions in him. Coincidently or not, Hank had noticed Connor’s lack of focus on his tasks; following the direction of his gaze, the man had found the reason.

“You know it’s rude to stare right? Or that isn’t in your damn program?” Hank got straight to the point but Connor seemed clueless, for he gave him a puzzled look. The man let out a sigh of disappointment.

“Look, I know you got something towards (Y/N) and you better go talk to them.”

“But I-“

“Trust me. They like you too.” Silently, Connor looked at his partner, processing what he had said. “Come on! Don’t waste your chance.” He urged the android on.

Connor will get flustered if (Y/N) were to compliment him

“Good morning!” (Y/N) greeted; their voice akin to a bell rang in Connor’s ears.

“Mornin’, kid” Hank mumbled under his nose, not quite returning their excitement.

“You’re here early!” They stared in awe.

“Yeah, thanks to him.” He pointed to Connor, who shyly waved his hand; (Y/N) smiled.

“Good job, Connor! Even if I wanted, I wouldn’t be able to bring Hank here before noon.” They joked, causing the lieutenant to laugh, meanwhile, Connor’s cheeks got blue, dusted with deep shades of blue, and amber hues danced on his LED.

If it came to physical touch Connor would probably shut down from how many system errors he gets

Much like in Markus' case, I think Connor will be confident in his emotions after the revolution when he becomes a deviant

It may take him a bit longer to fully grasp the experience of having feelings

Though he will get used to it with some guidance

Sixty

Just like Gavin, Sixty will be flirty but mostly with someone, who reflects the same energy

He may be a bit too daring at times, openly flirting without any shame whatsoever

Heading towards the breakroom with their partner beside them, (Y/N) was eager to get their morning coffee, though it seemed Sixty had other plans.

"Is your phone in your back pocket? Because your ass is calling me." With him being close by their side, his voice- barely above a whisper- caused shivers to run down their spine.

“Haha very funny, Sixty.” They sarcastically laughed, in hopes of hiding the excitement that grew within them.

“You know I’m always at your service.” He winked at them as he opened the door for them.

It may take him a lot longer to get attached and even longer to acknowledge his feelings

He would definitely test (Y/N)'s loyalty for him to fully trust them

Being Connor's successor and the android that almost caused the downfall of the revolution, Sixty is battling his past

An awkward silence had settled upon the two; worried, (Y/N) glanced at Sixty though his blank expression didn’t aid them in understanding what was going on.

“Is everything alright, Sixty?” Their voice were calm and quiet, loud enough only for him to hear; his brown eyes stared back at theirs. A puff of air escaped past his lips.

“It’s none of your concern.” He cut them off, bitterness was evident in his voice.

So, he will fall for someone, who accepts him for who he is and helps him in forgiving himself

His path to deviancy will be turbulent, filled with an explosion of repressed emotions Sixty is forced to deal with

But by being by his side, (Y/N) cloud build a bridge to his heart

The moment he realizes he is head over heels for (Y/N) is when he lets his guard down

When the playful facade crumbles down and what is left is a person, fighting to be accepted and forgiven

Nines

Out of all of the boys, it will take Nines the most time to catch feelings

Being the most advanced android in the world, Nines is less prone to deviancy

Not only it takes him more time to feel emotions but to also acknowledge and accept them

So, romance with Nines is close to nonexistent until deviancy

Though there still would sign in his behavior that indicate a crack in his system

With all of his advances, I feel Nines would want to use his assets for good

And working at DPD gives him such an opportunity

Upon meeting (Y/N) he wouldn't sense anything right away

Though as they work together and get accustomed to each other, Nines will slowly change

His curiosity will grow, resulting in asking (Y/N) questions outside their field of work

Yet what draws Nines in is their tolerance

They never pressure him to open up or to talk when he doesn't want to

It just occurs naturaly

“Detective, may I ask you something?” Nines’ icy blue irises bore into theirs.

“Of course, go ahead.” (Y/N) took a sip of their drink.

“Why did you join the force?” A smear of genuine curiosity was evident behind his enigmatic gaze.

“Well,” A smile curled the corners of their lips as the memories flooded in. “I guess you could say I just want to help people.” Their gaze met his. “What about you?”

He stayed silent for a few moments; bright yellow circled across his light-emitting diode.

“I suppose we have common motives.” He danced around the question, yet they didn’t question him any further.

I feel like a life-or-death situation may bring his feelings to the surface

[strawberrylabs]

Can you do a Larry Johnson X reader with ADHD, Fluff story

(A bit more info abt me: I have style my hair in an Afro with bangs just above my eyebrow which is dyed black, I’m black but with light skin, I curse a lot and I’m usually seen as loud or childish, and I’m an ENTP)

And can it be in a setting where we go out to an arcade or smth?

Please and tysm!!

Arcade Date!

Larry Johnson x Adhd!reader

Im so so sorry for how long this took! Tumblr keeps eating my posts and I didn’t realise this one had been eaten too until today ;-; this should’ve been posted months ago </3

Anyways! Technical issues aside! Hope you enjoy!

“Fuck yeahh!! Beat that score Larry!”

“You’ve gotta be cheating! There's no way you beat my score! Sal! You’re with me right? Y/n’s cheatin!”

Said blue haired male looks at the two lovers hunched over the game as he sips on a slushy. 

He doesn’t know why he’s here. He knew you guys were going on a date, he just had to make sure you two behave and don’t kill anyone. He now regrets his decision.

“Uh.. soooo… Im gonna go over here”

“Hey- Sal! Get back here, don't walk away! You gotta help me beat y/n and their freakish hyperfocus!” Larry calls after his best friend before turning to face you, who was still clicking away at the game, unblinking.

“No fair! I didn’t know you hyperfixated on this game recently! You have ADHD superpowers!”

You chuckle

“Actually, I told you about it last week- Yeah! Beat the score again!”

Larry groans as he grabs your hand and drags you away from the machine.

“Alright! Next game! This time I’m gonna beat your ass!”

“Oh yeah? Not if I beat your ass first! I’m a pro gamer, you don’t stand a fucking chance!” You proclaim loudly, causing a startled mother to cover her child's ears and glare at you for your use of profanities.

“Oops.. sorry” You give a little apology wave as Larry laughs at you

You punch his arm lightly before making your way to a claw machine.

“Come on man these things are rigged!” Larry protests as you fish out your coins from your pocket.

“What, are you that bad at a silly game?” You tease him as you insert the coin.

You try your hardest to grab a little alien plush in the middle, but even when you grab it, it drops as soon as the claw lifts it into the air.

You groan

“This thing is so rigged!” Larry laughs at you again.

“Told you dude! Let me try” Larry lightly pushes you away to try win the alien plush.

After way too many attempts, and lots of money spent on the claw machine, Larry manages to hook the claw on the tag of the alien.

You both gasp and you grab Larry’s arm as the claw moves to the slot in the corner, waiting with held breaths.

When the alien drops in the prize box you both scream and start jumping while pushing each other back and forth, earning you some strange looks from people nearby.

“Yes! You did it!” You laugh

“That I did. I believe you owe me an apology” Larry grins at you

“Ugh, fine. Maybe you’re not as crappy at games as I thought.” 

Satisfied, Larry grabs out the alien and looks at you before handing it over.

“For you, milady” He dramatically bows while putting on a silly accent.

You laugh “You’re so cliche”

He stands up straight and smiles as he pulls you into him for a hug.

You both freeze as you hear a camera shutter.

“Nice, can’t wait to show this to the rest of the gang.” 

You turn around to see Sal standing there with his phone, pointing it at the two of you.

“Sal! You prick! Give me that phone!”

“Dammit Sal! Get back here!”

You and Larry proceed to chase a laughing Sal around the arcade before the three of you are told to leave by the employees.

“This is why I can’t let you two go anywhere unsupervised.” Sal tuts

“Excuse you! If you hadn’t taken that photo, we wouldn’t have been kicked out!” Larry nods his head at your statement

“I have no idea what you're talking about.”

“Sal don’t gaslight us!” 

 Cue you and Larry yet again chasing Sal back to the apartments.

Little did you know, Sal posted the photo, and a video of you two chasing him to a group chat with the gang.

Sally Face: *1 photo and 1 video* Yeah, they’re definitely made for each other.

I hope you enjoyed it!

-Strawberry🍓

Masterlist

Rules

[bluebblurry]

More desert duo bits that i want to make into a full story but i’m working on like six other things lmao

“Scar.. c’mere for a second.” Grian said softly. The swiftly setting sun was making him nervous of the phantoms yet to come. Grian sighed; he’d already caused one of Scar’s deaths, he didn’t want to be responsible for more.

He pulled Scar by his sleeve into one of the houses in the village. It was quite rundown, missing bits and windows, but there was a full roof and a door, so that had to count for something.

Scar laughed, just amused and somehow content with being dragged. He hummed and leaned down a little, smirking. “Is there some reason you wanted to get me alone, Gri…?”

Grian blushed, spluttering as he tried to recover. “Wh- no! That’s– that’s not-!”

Scar giggled, “Oh calm down, I’m just teasing.” He bopped Grian on the nose, to which the avain grumbled. “So what’s up?”

Grian sighed, “I wanted to apologize.” He looked up at Scar with a troubled expression. “A-about getting you killed and all..”

Scar tilted his head, still just smiling. He looked calm and happy, silly as always. “G, I told you it was okay.” He laughed. “It’s no big deal, I know you didn’t mean to.”

“Still.” Grian looked exasperated, biting his lip. “I feel like I need to make it up to you. I owe you.” Grian had already made up his mind, but he wasn’t sure how to go about it. A thought crossed his mind, but he pushed it down, but not without considering it. He decided to take half of the idea, however.

So with shaking legs, Grian dropped to his knees in front of Scar.

It was Scar’s turn to blush, confusion crossing his brow. “Woah– Grian, what– whatcha doin’?” He looked slightly panicked, but Grian didn’t miss the spark of another emotion he couldn’t place. Excitement? Embarrassment? Both?

Grian took a breath, looking up at the tall brunet in front of him. It was an angle he’d never seen Scar from before, and he had to be honest, it was an angle he wouldn’t mind seeing all the time under different circumstances.

He cleared his throat. “My life is yours. I will… carry out your orders and do your bidding until I lose my first life. I will protect you, I will steal for you.. I will kill for you, if you want me to.”

“So.. you’ll do anything I want?” Scar was grinning, a mischievous gleam in his eyes.

Grian nodded. “Yes.” He felt breathless, bowing his head in submission. “Anything.”

Scar hummed. “Well, that’s good, because I already have some ideas.”

*****

Grian startled awake in bed, scrambling in the empty space around him. He couldn’t breathe, his head was spinning. It felt like his skin was on fire, needles seering through his veins. He wiped at his face, expecting blood, but his hand came away completely clean, save for the sweat.

“Sc- Scar?!” He called out, his voice a broken, tearful expression of fear. He sounded like a little kid, all small and terrified.

Scar poked his upper body around the corner, not looking up from the glass cup he was cleaning. “Yep?” He answered, blissfully unaware of the panic in his companion’s mind. When he was met with no response, he looked up from the glass to see Grian breathing heavily, his wings scrunched up behind him. Scar put the glass in the sink, quickly rushing down the hall. “Hey hey hey, G, it’s okay.” He whispered.

Grian clung tightly to him, gasping for air with his cheek against Scar’s chest. He wasn’t crying now, but he almost wished he was; it would help get rid of some of the tightness in his chest.

“Nightmare..?” Scar asked, his voice soft. Grian just nodded, unable to speak. Scar hummed quietly, playing with the hairs on the nape of Grian’s neck. “Wanna talk about it?”

He wanted to. He did, but he couldn’t. Not only was it difficult to speak, he was rapidly forgetting what had even happened in the dream. There was fire and a ring of cacti, but he couldn't remember what actually happened. He knew he’d been fighting someone, but he didn’t know who or why. So Grian just shook his head, shrinking a little in Scar’s arms.

“Well, I just made some cookies if you want any?” Scar offered, gently lifting Grian’s face. “They might help you feel better.”

Grian finally smiled a little. “Yeah.. th-they would, thank you, Scar.”

And there it was, that patented Scar grin. He simply shrugged. “It’s the least I can do for you after you spent literally five days building this house.” He giggled, leaning down and kissing Grian’s forehead. Grian blinked in surprise, speechless. “Thank you for that, by the way. Monopoly Mountain couldn’t be what it is without you.”

Grian smiled bashfully. “It was no problem. I had a lot of fun building it.”

Scar chuckled. “Yeah, but you’re exhausted, Gri, I can tell.” He released Grian, standing up. The avian almost chased after him, his fingers still curled around a fold in Scar’s sleeve. “I’ll go grab some of the cookies and come back.” He became bashful, his golden-yellow eyes soft. “A-and we could like, cuddle, o-or whatever, when I come back.”

Grian tilted his head, a smile growing across his face when Scar wouldn’t meet his eyes. “I’d love that.” He gave Scar’s arm a little flick with his ear feathers. Scar just blushed in return, scurrying back to the kitchen.

*****

Grian stood at the top of the ravine, still in shock. Scar’s body hadn’t regenerated yet, instead sitting at the bottom in a crumpled heap. Grian had heard his legs break on impact, a sound that kept replaying and replaying in his head. He hoped the injury wouldn’t carry over into Scar’s third life, as injuries like that tend to stick.

He had something much worse to worry about now.. Scar was Red. Would Scar try to kill him now…? He still owed Scar a life, but his companion was Red! All relationships are broken… Maybe he should get out of here while he still can. Maybe it’d be better for both of them if he disappeared.

“Gri..?” He heard behind him. He whirled around to see Scar. His skin was dulled to a pale gray, his eyes now red as blood. His shirt was ripped, practically draped around him like a cape. He took a step, almost falling down.

Grian rushed to his side, helping him stay up. “Woah hey, Scar, I’ve got you, it’s okay, it’s alright.” He whispered. “Here, sit down for a second.” He helped Scar sit down in the sand then started searching around for a solid stick that Scar could use for a cane. When he found one, he brought it over to Scar, no longer afraid. He was just worried now, hating that look on Scar’s face. “Are your legs alright..? Or is it just revival shocks?” He asked, his voice impossibly gentle.

Scar didn’t answer. He was just staring at the ground, fidgeting with his hands in his lap. Grian hated the silence. Scar was never silent, he was always talking and laughing, trying to get everyone else around him to laugh too. But now here he sat, distracted scarlet eyes following a lizard crawling across the sand.

“S-Scar…?” Grian asked, gently cupping Scar’s cheek. “Please, you’re scaring me.”

Scar looked up at him instantly when he said that, fear in his red eyes. “Scared? Of- of me?” He asked, his eyes all big and puppylike. He looked small, almost fragile, like that.

Grian shook his head quickly. “No, of course not, Scar.” He promised, gently stroking the brunet’s cheek with his thumb. Grian’s mind was racing a million miles a minute. He couldn’t bear to see Scar like this. He wanted to make it all okay. To go back in time and stop him from falling. To fix his legs. To at least make him smile. “Just.. are you okay?”

Scar took a breath. “I-I… I think I am. Walking kinda hurts…” his voice was quiet, shaking a little. He was still spooked from death, but Grian knew it would wear off. Come tomorrow, Scar would be himself again, just a lot more.. dangerous. Murderous.

Grian gave Scar the stick he’d found, helping him stand. The brunet was shaking, but he could stand now. Scar looked at him, his eyes soft. “Gods, Grian… you’re so amayzin’.” He said quietly, his eyes starting to shine with tears. “I’m so glad I have you.” He shuddered, breaking down into sobs.

Grian hushed him, hugging him gently as Scar practically collapsed into his arms. “Shh, Scar…” he whispered. “C’mere, let’s get you to bed, yeah?”

His heart ached as he brought Scar up to the house. It killed him to see Scar in pain, and why did he have to say that..? He always said things like that– sweet things, things that Grian didn’t understand how he could see. Scar was so kind to him, so very loving. Grian always found himself relishing in it for a few moments, before asking himself why Scar even cares. He didn’t deserve Scar’s love, so why was Scar so good to him..?

Grian couldn’t love Scar. He couldn’t. He wanted to, gods, he wanted to so badly… But he knew that he could never be a good partner to Scar. Grian was horribly selfish and closed off, how could someone like Scar love him? Scar was so wonderful. He was selfless, kind, caring, sweet…

And he was Red now. He was dangerous. He could turn on Grian at any moment. So Grian shoved his feelings back down.

Scar’s bed was all the way upstairs, so Grian tucked the brunet into his own bed, pulling the red comforter up around Scar’s shoulders. He handed Scar the plush he always loved to steal, a pink rabbit with a black handlebar mustache. It reminded them both of a friend.

Grian started to walk away, but Scar quickly grabbed his hand.

“Wait..” the brunet said softly, “..stay with me?”

Grian hesitated. Of course he wanted to stay, but it’d been because of him that Scar died. He was supposed to protect Scar and watch out for him, but he hadn’t been watching. He hadn’t seen the ravine. It was his fault…

“Pl-please…” Scar begged, his voice breaking. Tears were forming in his eyes again.

Grian nodded quietly, lifting the covers to slip in next to Scar. Grian snaked an arm around his waist, tucking his face between Scar’s shoulder blades.

He knew that Scar liked being the little spoon, but sometimes he wanted to be the little spoon. He physically couldn’t, though, because of his wings, and that made him a little sad, but he didn’t complain. It made Grian happy when he could make Scar happy, so perpetual big spoon he would be.

*****

Grian was backed up against a wall, both physically and psychologically. Scar was in front of him, red eyes seeming to glow in the low light of the candles. Grian didn’t know what to do, his mind getting fuzzy from Scar’s hot breath on his neck.

“Grian…” came Scar’s low growl of a voice. It made Grian shiver. “What happened to our enchanter…?”

Grian swallowed the lump in his throat. “I-I..” he cleared his throat, but it didn’t help. “Cleo came a-and took it,” his voice was a shaking whisper. Was Scar about to kill him? Grian certainly deserved it; he’d gotten the enchanter stolen! “Sh-she dropped it into a lava pool.”

Scar frowned. He didn’t look right with a frown. “Hm..” he looked pensive, glancing away for a moment, “now that just won’t do, will it?” His eyes snapped back to Grian, pinning him in place. Grian felt the heat behind those scarlet eyes, and he wasn’t sure whether to be afraid or utterly aroused, because holy moly, Scar was so close to him right now

“I-I, um, wh-what– h-how can I f-fix it?” Grian offered up, hand shaking as he brought it up to Scar’s chest, placing his palm flat. “D-do you want me t-to steal Ren’s? Be- because I can do that! I-if you want me to! I-I’ll be so good, Scar, they w-won’t even notice I’m–”

He was cut off by Scar’s finger over his lips. The brunet gave a shushing sound, smirking. Grian was already caught off guard, so he was definitely not prepared when Scar slotted his knee between Grian’s thighs, pressing his body flush against the blond’s. Scar hummed softly, his hands traveling down to Grian’s wrists. He lifted them above Grian’s head, holding them there with just one of his much bigger hands. The other came back down to hold Grian’s chin by his thumb and pointer finger. He turned Grian’s head slightly to the side, leaning down to his ear. “You’ll be good, huh..?”

“Y-yes,” Grian breathed, hearing just how whiny his own voice had become. “I-I won’t let anything happen this time, I–!”

“Grian.” Scar smiled. “I don’t want to risk your life, but if you get that enchanter for me, then I’ll give you a reward..” he softly grinded his hips against Grian’s, making the blond gasp. He exhaled shakily, his jaw hanging open slightly.

Gods, those eyes… Grian’s own eyes fluttered closed, his head tipping back against the wall. His face felt as red hot as Scar’s eyes.

Scar grabbed his chin, tugging his attention back. “So.. are you gonna be a good boy, Gri..?”

[beardedmrbean]

Celebrities who took part in the online frenzy of Kate rumours and conspiracy theories are apologising following the Princess of Wales’s cancer diagnosis.

In a moving video released on Friday, Kate revealed that she’d been undergoing chemotherapy in the wake of major abdominal surgery in January, which led to cancer cells being found in subsequent tests.

At the time, Kate’s condition was not disclosed to the public, and the release of a photoshopped image of the princess and her children exacerbated the spread of conspiracy theories speculating on the reason behind her low profile.

Actor Blake Lively was one of the first to apologise for partaking in the frenzy, referring to a now-deleted post that seemingly poked fun at Kate posting an edited picture of her family for Mother’s Day.

Posting on an Instagram Story on Friday (22 March), the Gossip Girl star wrote: “I’m sure no one cares today but I feel I have to acknowledge this.

“I made a silly post around the ‘photoshop fails’ frenzy and, oh, man, that post has me mortified today. I’m sorry.”

The Age of Adaline actor had made an Instagram post announcing an update for her alcohol brand on 15 March, when she made a subtle nod to the photoshopped family photo.

Lively’s post showed a photo of her head conspicuously photoshopped onto a distorted woman’s body lounging by a pool, with one of her Betty Buzz drinks in hand. Seemingly poking fun at rumours over Kate’s whereabouts, Lively added in the post, “Now you know why I’ve been MIA.”

Journalist and political activist Owen Jones has also expressed regret for adding to commentary on Kate’s whereabouts.

After photo agencies pulled the photoshopped family picture, Jones remarked on the “kill notice” with: “I am so obsessed with this already omg!!”

Another post featured Jones sharing his scepticism about a photograph of Kate and Prince William in a car together. He wrote: “You have to be kidding me. That is not a public appearance. Choo choo! All aboard the Kate Middleton truther express!”

However, the journalist has now said he feels “ashamed” for the speculation, and wishes Kate well.

“As someone who speculated on this without considering it could be a serious health condition, I’m very ashamed to be honest, and all the very best to her,” Jones wrote in a post on X/Twitter.

In the week before, Kensington Palace had issued a photo of Kate and her three children on Mother’s Day. In an unprecedented move, photo agencies recalled the picture after realising it had been manipulated. Kate then addressed the edited image, writing on X/Twitter: “Like many amateur photographers, I do occasionally experiment with editing.

“I wanted to express my apologies for any confusion the family photograph we shared yesterday caused.”

Meanwhile, fans have been calling on reality TV star Kim Kardashian to apologise for joining in the speculation about why Kate had been absent from public life.

On 17 March, the reality star posted a photo of herself posing in front of a luxury car, and captioned the post: “On my way to go find Kate.”

“After the news of her having cancer has been revealed, you should really take this down. It’s extremely insensitive and you owe our princess an apology,” one person commented on Kardashian’s post.

“Can you please go find an apology instead?? Added another.

On social media, fans have also asked British-American comedian John Oliver to retract a joke made during an appearance on Watch What Happens Live with Andy Cohen.

“There is a non-zero chance she died 18 months ago,” Oliver quipped earlier this month. “They might be Weekend at Bernie’s-ing this situation. I’m not saying it happened, but I’m saying it’s non-zero until proven otherwise. Until we see her sitting there with a copy of the day’s paper.”

Weekend at Bernie’s was a 1989 comedy film in which two people manipulate a dead body to make it appear as if he’s still alive.

Piers Morgan called out Oliver for his comments on X/Twitter after the announcement that Kate is receiving cancer treatment. He said: “I hope this smug p***k has the decency to apologise for such a disgusting ‘joke’.”

At the time of writing, neither Kardashian or Oliver have responded to criticism of their comments. The Independent has contacted them for comment.

The 42-year-old princess said on Friday that she needed to recover from surgery before she could start “preventative chemotherapy”, as advised by her medical team.

“This of course came as a huge shock, and William and I have been doing everything we can to process and manage this privately for the sake of our young family,” she added.

Kate explained she had needed time to come to terms with the news and tell her children, Prince George, 10, Princess Charlotte, eight, and Prince Louis, five, before informing the wider world.

She said: “It has been an incredibly tough couple of months for our entire family, but I’ve had a fantastic medical team who have taken great care of me, for which I am so grateful.

“In January, I underwent major abdominal surgery in London and at the time, it was thought that my condition was non-cancerous.

“The surgery was successful. However, tests after the operation found cancer had been present. My medical team therefore advised that I should undergo a course of preventative chemotherapy and I am now in the early stages of that treatment.”

Praising her husband as “a great source of comfort and reassurance”, Kate said: “It has taken me time to recover from major surgery in order to start my treatment.

“But, most importantly, it has taken us time to explain everything to George, Charlotte and Louis in a way that is appropriate for them, and to reassure them that I am going to be OK.

“As I have said to them, I am well and getting stronger every day by focusing on the things that will help me heal; in my mind, body and spirits.”

The Independent is the world’s most free-thinking news brand, providing global news, commentary and analysis for the independently-minded. We have grown a huge, global readership of independently minded individuals, who value our trusted voice and commitment to positive change. Our mission, making change happen, has never been as important as it is today.

[aries-rp-corner]

Back in the Orre Region, Baron and his wife, Rina looked through old photos of when Baron was young with his brother Cornelius. Pulling out some photos as he chuckled softly upon seeing old memories from the past, getting his Rina’s attention. “Dear? What caught your eye?”

“Just… I and my brother when we were kids.” He showed her a photo of himself and Cornelius covered in mud with their Pokémon at the time. “Mah was mad at us after this photo was taken. I and Core had to clean up our mess, it was fair of course.” He chuckled softly, as he continued to dig through the photos and found something that gave him a sad smile. “This is the photo that Cornelius graduated Ranger School…dawning his Ranger Uniform…I honestly tried to be a Mechanic for the Rangers…sadly I was late to join.” He sighs as Rina looked over with sadness. Understanding his struggle, but she can see he wanted to help his brother through anything.

“Did you ask your brother to help you find an opening?” She asked softly making Baron turn over with a sadden look.

“I did, all spots taken sadly. Yet I didn’t put the skills to waist, I put myself through other Mechanical and Technological training… Remember my Glider?” He looked over with a sly smile, making the woman huff out as she remembered with a somewhat annoyed and teasing smile.

“Oh yes, I do. Especially the day you rescued me and Meloetta from those Poachers, which was also the day I almost slipped and fell because of your flying at the time.” She huffed out angrily, making Baron giggle in fear and embarrassment.

“In my honest defense, we were escaping them…but I did said I wasn’t going to let you go. However, you do have a point and I’m still gonna apologize for that.” He whimpered out, until feeling hands on his cheeks and a kiss on his forehead as that instantly made the man blush softly.

“I know, and I was only teasing.~ But before we met, were you also spying on an old organization? What was it called again dear?” Rina asked with curiosity. “Because I do remember the Poachers use to work with them before…”

“Team Olethros? Ah, the seedling that grew into the Three Branches: Team Go-Rock, Dim Sun, and the Pinchers. I’ve never thought that would happen until they rose…I’m glad those Rangers were able to stop them…I do hope they’ll help our daughter through Cipher’s madness when she message us back...” Baron sighs softly as Rina held his hand close, causing him to look over to her as memories of the past came back to his mind. “Forgive me, love… I’m… well, we’re all worried for Aries. I just hope she and her friends made it through…”

“I hope so as well…” She spoke softly, clearing the photos until finding herself, Baron, and Cornelius giving big smiles. She herself chuckled and giggled warmly. “Now I haven’t seen this in ages.~ And look at that hair of yours!~” she happily chirped out to him, as Baron groaned in embarrassment as he sees his young self with the side of his head shaved and the other having free wild hair.

“I have no idea why I found that cool in my youth…” Baron grumbled out.

“I think it was cool! It said a lot about you! Brave, Reckless, Silly-”

“Hey!” Baron pouts out as he blushed at the same time. Making Rina continue with a giggle.

“And most importantly, Wild and Free. I think Aries inherited that as well, both of you are reflections.~” Rina finished as Baron playfully tackled her and hugged her close.

“She also got something from you as well ya know! Your kindness, also goofy personality, cleverness, and a chance to hear people out while understanding them.” Baron added, making Rina hug him back as the two relaxed. “No matter what, Aries will also be our reflection.” The man smiled warmly, until something catches his eye. Freeing Rina as he grabbed the photo, it what himself, Cornelius, and Aries when she was three years old. Himself on his glider and Cornelius holding onto Aries as the two were riding Baron’s Flygon. “Stars… I haven’t seen this one in years….”

He gently held the photo close as Rina looked over with a worried look. “Do you miss to fly?… After what happened to your brother?…”

“Deeply… I felt like my wings got clipped the moment Cornelius…. I…. Ugh…. I wish he didn’t go…I want to know if he is okay now…” Baron sighs deeply, now looking tired from staying up in some nights due to worrying for Aries, and ready to cry a bit from the past. Rina held his shoulder and kissed him on the cheek again.

“You can rest Baron. I’ll join you in a bit…I’ll clean up and I’ll look out for anything that Aries sends.” She spoke with a soft kind smile, Baron honestly felt terrible as he tried to offer to help…yet his tiredness is growing.

“Alright…I’ll see you in bed love.” Baron retreated to their bedroom and flopped down on his bed. Closing his eyes to rest…

[artzee-bee]

Not going anywhere | Lucifer Morningstar x reader

Fandom: Lucifer

Request:” Hi i have request for you ,Lucifer and the reader have a big fight they are married, and this fight it's lucifer fault The reader leaves home and Lucifer decides to give her space After a few days, he goes to the reader and realizes that she has been missing for a few days,When the person behind all this claims that the reader is dead and gives them a her body . Everyone thinks that the reader is dead and Lucifer He gets depressed and thinks it's all his fault , and after a few days, the thieves release the singer and the reader goes to Lucifer.Lucifer first thinks it is an imagination and then apologizes to the reader Thank you so much”

Genre: Angst with happy ending

Warnings: kidnapping, death

~~~

Your intention had never been to start a fight. All you wanted an explanation (preferably one that also made sense) and an apology, but apparently that was too much to ask, because as soon as you voiced your opinion, Lucifer went up in flames

“Don’t start this again!”

“I dislike it just as much as you do but what I hate more is being cancelled on, AGAIN, through a text message no less!”

“It was an emergency!”

“It’s always an emergency Lucifer! It’s starting to sound a lot like work means more to you than I do!” “The detective needs me, damn it!” your husband yelled

“And she has you! Every day of every week! All I ask for is one date night and for the past month you’ve done nothing but avoid committing to one or backing out at the last second! I’m tired of being your second choice Lucifer! I’m your wife and you are my husband, I love you to the ends of the world, I just wish you'd say no to Decker from time to time...”

“I’m saving people’s lives Y/N. So if you’re not on your deathbed, other people are and they need me now!” as he said this, Lucifer walked right past you and into your bedroom, seemingly ignorant to the painful words he’d just said. You looked around the living room, vision blurry with tears, your chest heavy with anger and disgust. You rushed towards the elevator.

“When you find time in your busy schedule and feel like being my spouse again, let me know!” the elevator door closed before Lucifer could say anything

~~~

When Lucifer woke up the next morning to a cold and empty bed, he didn’t think much of it.Truthfully, he was still kind of pissed at the attitude you had given him a day before, so he got dressed as usual and went to the precinct, assuming you’ll be home by nightfall.

Except when he got home that night, he stopped by Lux first, which ended up like it always does: with him sucked into an endless cycle of booze and dancing, that lasted until well into the night. When he did enter the penthouse eventually, he found it empty. Exactly the way he had left it in the morning. Even the tie he had left on the floor, after deciding last minute that it didn’t go with his suit, was untouched. Now this was curious, but still, Lucifer felt like you must be playing hard to get. He sent you one text message, before going to bed

“Call me when you can!”

The day after that, he figured his part was done! By reaching out first, he had already made a big compromise, so now it was your turn! To reach out, come home! But that didn’t happen that day, or the day after that.

Three days after the text message,Lucifer was getting worried. He was looking at his phone every other minute. Always making sure he hadn’t accidently put it on silent or missed any texts. He sent more messages, telling you he was sorry and that he wanted you to come home. That he would listen and spend more time with you, promising luxurious dates and weekend trips, if only you forgave him. You didn’t even open the messages.

“Lucifer are you listening?” Decker was insanely annoyed at her partner’s lack of concentration

“Sorry detective. I’ve...I’ve got a lot on my mind”

“Well, better get it out of the way now, so that we can move on to our case!” she said, cleaning out her desk quickly, before resting back into her chair “Talk to me!”

“It’s Y/N. I’m worried about her!”

“Why?” “We...had a fight a couple days ago and she left. She hasn’t come back since”

“Have you heard from her at all?”

“No…” Lucifer said, embarrassed at his own lack of care for you. He should have called you earlier, reached out more! He should have tried harder!

“How long had she been missing for?”

“4...maybe 5 days…”

“Lucifer, are you sane? And you’re only telling me now?!” Chloe jumped from her seat, turning on her computer

“I thought she needed space! I thought she was avoiding me intentionally cause she was angry! I didn’t know…” Lucifer choked back a sob, not wanting to break down in tears in the middle of the precinct

“Lucifer!” Chloe caught hold of his hand “I’m gonna find her! I promise you!” A few days later, she did. Well, more like Y/n came to her, in the shape of a pretty little gift box left on Decker's doorstep.

“A lil too late on your case detective” read the note attached to it. 

Inside were Y/N’s clothes, all of them stained with dark, dried blood. Y/N was declared dead that day and the case was closed. At her funeral, only her closests friends were present. Lucifer wanted it to be as intimate as possible.

That day was also the first time anyone had seen Lucifer, since the news. His eyes were bloodshot and the dark circles under his eyes almost matched the black suit he was wearing. Throughout the ceremony he kept twisting his wedding band, a habit he’d picked up on since you went missing. He chose not to do a speech, but once the crowd disappeared, and he was left face to face with your grave, he pulled out a little piece of paper from his pocket and sat down on the grass.

“In hell, everyone feared me. There, I was nothing but another server of the universe, ruling over an empire I never really wanted, because I never had a choice. So eventually I left, thinking anywhere will be better than what I had, and I came to earth.

I ran into you about 2 weeks later, before I really even knew how to behave myself. Before I knew anything about who I really was besides ‘the devil’. I longed to know, grow and discovers different sides of me, where I could be something new, and you gave it to me. You made me who I never thought I could possibly be. You made me a lover. I never thought of myself as capable to love anyone, in any degree, but your light shone everywhere you went and your kindness touched me and everyone around you. It became impossible to not get infatuated with your person. I allowed you to see and feel around every dark corner of my soul and being and every time I thought it was the end. Everytime I would take in your touch as if it was the last, I would prepare myself for abandonment, but it never came. Through everything you stood by my side and when I felt my darkest, you gave me a fistful of your light and that was enough to keep me going. You married a broken man and called him perfect, despite everyone telling you how much of a foul you were. Even then, you shooed them away. Even then you chose me. I wasn’t worthy of your love or your trust and our last night together proved it.

You’re not here anymore to hear my apologies and I’ll never forgive myself for it. You’ve gone now somewhere I can not follow, but I know you are well taken care of there. I hope, someway, somehow, you’ll hear these words: I am sorry. I loved you with my entire soul. Not listening to you was the biggest mistake of my life and I’ll never forgive myself. I choose however, to remember you as you were, because I know that’s what you’d want. I’ll remember you and your laugh.I’ll remember our date nights and shopping sprees. Nights in Lux or on the penthouse balcony. I’ll remember all the meals you prepared for me and the flirtatious remarks you used to make, because you thought they were so silly. I’ll remember the little frown on your face whenever you worked on an important project for work and I’ll remember every evening walk around the block you’d make me accompany you on. I know I always complained about them, but they were always fun. Everything I ever did with you was always fun.

I loved you. I still do. You are my everything Y/N. Thank you for devoting yourself to me in all the ways that you did. I’ll forever live on in my heart.“

~~~

It had been months since your disappearance. After all this time, you finally managed to escape your kidnappers and report them to the New York police station, since that’s where you had been held hostage for so long. As soon as the paperwork was done and you were sure that the people who ruined you were getting the punishment they deserved, you jumped on a train and headed straight back home. Straight to Lucifer.

Lux looked exactly the same as you had left it. You were washed over by a wave of comfort that almost brought you to tears. Home. You never thought you’d get to step in here again. Overwhelmed, you took a seat on one of the couches, allowing your head to rest back on it, as you took in every detail of your surroundings: the feel of the leather on your fingertips, the cool breeze of the air conditioning, the warm lights. Everything was still here.

“Y/N?” you jumped at the sound

“Hi love…” your voice broke as you said those words. Words you never thought you would be able to mutter again. The sight of your husband, messy as he was, made you weak in the knees. He was standing at the top of the staircase, dressed in nothing but his robe, tied carelessly around his waist. He had probably just woken up. You wanted to say something again, but before you could, he laughed

“Nope” he said simply, before making his way down the stairs and to the bar “I’m not doing this. Not today, not ever!” Lucifer filled his glass to the top with bourbon, before turning around and trying to leave back to where he came from

“Lucifer, it's me!”

“Sure you are, except you’re not real! Nice of dad, taking my ability to stay endlessly sober, getting me drunk, forcing visions of my dead wife onto me to teach me another lesson about managing my emotions. Real clever, except this is too much! So I’m going to enter that elevator and I expect to never have to see you again, hum? Right, well, au revoir now!” he continued on his way, but before he could get far, you were clutching on the silk tie of his robe. Lucifer felt the tug around his waist and turned around slowly to look at you, this time a little more unsure. As if he was trying to figure you out

“Lucifer, I’m Y/N. I escaped”

“Escaped? But that’s impossible, she died! I saw it-”

“What you saw was a bloody shirt!” he looked up to meet your gaze, tears already forming “They lied to you Lucifer”

Finally, it seemed like he had connected all of the pieces of the puzzle. The glass of alcohol fell to the ground and your husband wrapped you in a big hug for the first time in months. He nuzzled his head in your hair and took in your scent, your figure, your warmth. Hell, you were even more perfect that he remembered! Silent tears fell down both of your cheeks as you collapsed to the ground, still holding onto each other for dear life

“I’m so sorry” Lucifer sobbed in your hair “I’m so so sorry”

“It wasn’t your fault Luci”

“If I hadn’t been a jerk you wouldn’t have left! If I would have simply listened to you, they wouldn’t have gotten to you! You would’ve stayed here, where you belong! You would have stayed with me but instead I was too busy with my stupid job and the stupid cases and I’m sorry! I’m sorry I’m sorry I’m sorry” he continued crying on your shoulder as you rubbed small circles on his back

“I’m here now my love” you whispered, kissing his cheek “And I’m not going anywhere”

[quindolyn]

Ma’am i am begging for a wolfstar blurb where Remus has a innocence kink and Sirius has a corruption kink

With love, my vagina

Dumb Bunny || Remus Lupin and Sirius Black

Word Count: 4,553

A/N: I hope you like this Bo, you’re my favorite and you know that. I also wrote like 90% of this in one sitting so I don’t know if it’s any good because you usually i take breaks and come back and look at what I’ve written but who knows. Love you so much my love.

Warnings: degradtion, praise, names like slut and dumb, blow job, oral virgin, dogg style, this is post Azkaban kinda

Masterlist

Kneeling at Remus’ feet staring up at the outline of his cock pressing up against his pants was daunting. You’d never actually given head before, had guys asked? Sure, but it had just never seemed worth the trouble, you’d never actually gotten a good look at any of their pricks because as soon as you’d nixed a blow job they were desperate to get inside of you.

Not that that had been all that great either, but you digress. 

You watched with wide eyes as his nimble fingers moved to the button on his slacks, pulling it through the hole before unzipping his zipper which allowed his slacks to drop and pool at his ankles. 

This left him in only his navy boxers which allowed you to get a much better look at the outline of his cock, you could almost see the ridges of the head as it was jostled around when he stepped out of his pants, kicking them to the side as he repositioned himself in front of you. 

You sat there, unmoving as you stared down his cock, not quite sure what to do now.

“Come on Pup, don’t tell me that you’re so clueless that you don’t know what to do with a cock when its been laid out in front of you,” Sirius sniped from where he stood, leaning nonchalantly against the wall as his eyes raked over your figure, clad only in the pair of pale pink panties and matching bra that you had put on hours earlier. “Don’t tell me that you’re that useless.”

“M’not useless,” You grumbled, casting your eyes down in shame, “I just, I’ve never done this before.”

“Speak up there Pup,” Remus commanded gently, slipping two strong fingers under your jaw to tilt your head up so that you could meet his gaze, “Can’t hear you when you mumble, and s’not nice to not look at someone when you’re talking to them.”

“M’sorry sir,” You apologized, trying to keep your eyes on his and not on his ever growing bulge, still straining against the material of his boxers, “I was just saying that,” You gulped, casting a sidelong glance at Sirius before moving your eyes back to meet Remus’, “I’ve never done this before.”

“Never done what before?” Sirius asked from off to the side, his smirk evident in his voice as he moved to stand next to Remus, “Come on bunny, wanna hear you say it.”

You looked up at Remus with pleading eyes but it was clear he wasn’t going to call his dog off, “I’ve never given head before, I’ve never sucked…” You felt your face heat up as you trailed off at the implication of your words.

“Oh come on,” Sirius chuckled, kneeling next to you so that you were of equal height, “Don’t get shy on me now, you can say the word puppy, I know you can.”

You found yourself not mortified by his condescending matter but rather ridiculously turned on, you could already feel a knot begin to form in your belly.

Sirius kept his eyes trained on you expectantly until you finally relented, “Cock,” As the single word slipped from your mouth you felt embarrassment bloom in your belly which was silly really, it was only just a word.

“Come on now, all together,” The dark haired man grinned mischievously.

“I’ve never sucked cock,” You admitted bashfully, looking to Remus to measure his reaction. You were nervous, not only had you never sucked someone off before but both men were a decade older than you with more sexual experience. What if you weren’t good, or you couldn’t take them and triggered your gag reflex? With all of these thoughts swimming around in your head it was hard to form a coherent thought and that was purely from nervousness, you couldn’t imagine what it would be like when you had them inside of you.

He had to restrain himself from groaning, both at your words and the innocent look on your face as you gazed up at him, “You’ve had sex though right baby? We’re not gonna take your virginity are we?” He asked, because if he and his lover were about to be your first time it was going to have to be a whole lot more special than this.

You were quick to shake your head, “No, I’ve had sex, I’m not a virgin.”

“Well in this hole you are,” Sirius captured your jaw, turning it to face him. His thumb brushed against the seal of your lips in a nonverbal command for you to open them, which you did of course.

You watched with wide eyes as Sirius gathered spit in his mouth before he spat it into your mouth, the taste of him bleeding across the expanse of your tongue. 

“Let me see Pup,” Sirius commanded as you stuck your tongue out, allowing him to see his spit on your tongue before he gave you your next direction, “Good girl, now swallow.”

Not as restrained a man as Remus he did groan watching your throat with an unguarded lust that had you shivering at the idea of what thoughts laid behind that gaze.

“Pads is right, you’re a very good girl,” Remus praised, directing your attention back towards him. Your mouth dropped open at the sight you were met with, Remus’ stiff cock standing proud and tall in front of your face with his hand wrapped around it.

“Am I going to suck your cock?” You asked, wide eyed and slightly concerned as you gazed up at Remus. Though his dick was prettier than you anticipated with its bright red, leaking tip, and the ridges caused by the veins that ran along the sides it was absolutely mouth watering, but the idea of fitting that in your mouth was nothing less than nerve wracking.

He let out a low chuckle, one of his strong hands moving to brush your hair out of your face, his eyes trained on your lips, “No, not yet baby. Gonna wrap those pretty lips around Sirius he’s a little bit smaller, it’ll make it easier for you.”

You heard Sirius grumble in discontent at the comment as he pushed himself up to undo the buckle of his belt, shedding both his trousers and boxers with far less dignity than his counterpart. Though yes, he was a bit smaller, it didn’t appear to be a significant difference and did little to soothe your woes about your potential performance. 

“Don’t worry Poppet, m’gonna teach you how to suck his dick. It's not hard I promise,” The tall man knelt beside you, his hand still on his prick as he smeared a kiss along your temple. You allowed your eyes to close at the contact, leaning into the touch as Remus guided one of your hands to his cock. It practically jumped into your grasp as oppositely charged magnets would attract each other. 

Though you’d given a hand job before Remus’ much larger, scarred hand found its way to encase your’s, guiding you through the motions of pumping up and down the shaft.

“How about me?” Sirius sounded petulant, like a child, but there was absolutely nothing child like about the way his dick rested heavily in the palm of his hand, he wasn’t as long as Remus but what he lacked in length he made up for in girth. The head of his member was more purple than red, though it leaked just as ferociously with the beginning drops of precum.

“He’s right Puppy,” Remus told you, pulling his lips away from your temple so that you would be forced to support the weight of your head on your own and meet his eyesight, “Gonna teach you how to give a blow job, okay?”

You nodded your head, “Yes, Sir.”

Impatience radiated off of the man who stood before you, the head of his cock staring you down, before you could talk yourself out of action you reached out and took the shaft in your hand, getting used to how it sat heftily in your hand.

“You’re gonna want to spit in your hand first Pup, it’ll make it easier,” Remus suggested, his length still secure in his own hand. You followed your instructions, switching Sirius’ member to your nondominant hand while you spat into the other one before resuming your previous hold.

Gazing up at him as you worked your hand up and down the length of his shaft you noticed the way his eyes were entirely consumed by lust, shining grey irises now black, blending in with his pupils.

“Use your thumb to smear the precum baby, like that,” Remus continued to coach you, watching as you ran your thumb over the sensitive head of Sirius’ member and how he jolted at the motion, “See he likes it.”

“Do you? Do you like it, Daddy?” You peered up at him through your eyelashes, cocking your head to the side without ever relenting the movement of your hand, “Am I doing a good job?”

Remus groaned from beside you, his gaze having left the dick in your hand, now landing on your face. Sirius simply smirked, dark curtains of hair framing his visage, the mere sight of him looming above you was enough to make you embarrassingly turned on, feeling pleasure begin to simmer in your belly you could only imagine how it would feel when you had him in your mouth.

“You’re doing a very good job Puppy,” It was Remus who spoke this time, “But it looks like Pads might be a little desperate to get his cock in your mouth, you think you’re ready?”

“I think so,” You nodded.

That was all Sirius needed before he was releasing his member from your hold, gripping his hand around it pumping it once, then twice before bringing the head to rest on your bottom lip. Tracing the seal of your lips with the weeping head of his prick he spoke, “Come on Puppy, wanna be the first cock in that pretty little mouth of yours.”

“You heard him (Y/N), open your mouth, time to take his cock.” Remus said from beside you.

“B-But I’ve never done this before, how am I supposed to know what to do?”

Getting more and more frustrated with the fact his prick still wasn’t in your mouth Sirius began shifting his weight from foot to foot anxiously.

“Don’t worry, it’s gonna be alright,” The werewolf soothed you, running his fingers through your tresses, “Gonna help you.”

Glancing over at Remus for one last confirmation you didn’t realize what Sirius was doing until it was too late and his member was making contact with your cheek as he slapped it against the side of your face, streaking precum across your skin, “Hurry up slut.”

You whimpered at the degradation of both his words and his action as you felt a pang of pleasure zip through your body, shivering at the filthiness of it. You shifted in your spot, trying to rub your thighs together to soothe some of the ache that resided there and that wasn’t showing any indication of relenting but neither of the older men were having it.

“Stop that,” Sirius growled, capturing your jaw in his hand, pushing your cheeks together so that your lips were forced open, “Not about you right now, you’re supposed to be getting me off,” With that, having lost all patience he pushed the head of his cock into your mouth, releasing a strangled groan as he stopped himself from pushing in deeper. 

Remus let out a small chuckle shifting so that he was closer to you, “There you go Poppet, just start with the head. You wanna be sure to keep your teeth tucked away so that you don’t hurt him,” Leaning in closer towards your ear he added something else in a low whisper, “We can do that later, yeah?”

You let out a small giggle, which because it was muffled by the cock sitting inside of your mouth sent vibrations of pleasure through Sirius, starting at the head of his member and working their way up the shaft. Unable to control himself he bucked into your mouth, not considerably deep but deep enough to jar you. 

“Careful Si,” Remus scolded gently, one of his hands going to grip Sirius’ bare thigh as a reminder not to rush. Looking at you he saw the tears brimming in your eyes at the sudden and unexpected motion, “Puppy,” He cooed, caressing the side of your face with his knuckles, “Gotta breathe through your nose, do you know how to do that baby?”

Shaking your head gently you were careful to keep your teeth tucked away behind your lips while still signaling that you had no clue what you were doing. 

“Are you choking on my cock?” Sirius mocked you, the concerned tone of voice so sickly sweet it was nauseating, “Not even doing anything with it, just sitting there in your mouth and you can’t even take it,” He thrusted up gently into your mouth, just enough for the head of his cock to brush up against the roof of your mouth as cause you to gag around his length.

“Be nice Sirius,” Remus seethed through gritted teeth, glaring up at him while he pet your hair, grounding you as you focused on inhaling and exhaling through your nostrils. Concentrating on that helped you to calm your gag reflex, no longer having a problem with how his member was positioned in your mouth.

“Daddy can be mean can’t he?” Remus directed his attention towards you, his tone was so falsely sympathetic that it worsened the need bubbling up inside of you as the pleasure in your stomach continued to simmer. 

You stopped yourself from nodding again, this time letting out an affirmative hum which pleased Remus as he watched Sirius’ hips stutter as he refrained from forcing his length all the way down your throat.

“You can suck harder bunny, it’ll feel good and he’ll tell you if something hurts or doesn’t feel good, gotta trust him to do that.”

Taking his advice you sucked more harshly at the member inside of your mouth, swirling your tongue around the head while looking up at him to gauge his reaction, he was still looking down at you, unblinking as though if he lost sight of you for even a moment the pleasure would stop. 

Remus slid his body behind yours so that your back was pressed to his chest with his cock achingly pressing into your bareback, smearing precum along your skin.

“Gotta hollow your cheeks Pup, like this,” His fingers found their way to either side of your face, pressing gently on your cheeks until he could feel the cock inside of your mouth. “It’ll feel good for him, make it tighter like it would be if he was fucking your cunt.”

One hand quickly abandoned your face, sliding its way down your stomach until his fingers were brushing the top of your lacy panties before slipping just his fingertips beneath the material. He simply cupped your pussy possessively, not working his fingers between your folds or into your hole, but just resting there, clutching you.

“Fuck Moons,” Sirius gritted, “She’s a fucking natural, hollowing her cheeks so prettily for me it’s like fucking her actual cunt.”

You whined at his words, squirming once again trying to relieve the ache burning between your thighs, the way he spoke to Remus, to Sir, like you weren’t even there. It was deliciously objectifying, degrading, and you loved it. 

Remus smiled into your neck as he moved to nip at your ear, the contact subtle, but still enough to have you shivering as pleasure tickled at your nerves which felt frayed and exposed, with every motion, every exhale against your skin it was like on fire had been set to each of them individually.

“Gonna make him feel even better now poppet, bob your head up and down and you’re gonna take your hand,” He took one of your hands, which had been resting on your thigh, and guided it to the base of Sirius’ member, “Just move it a little bit, on what you’re not able to fit into your mouth, don’t wanna neglect it.” 

Following his instructions you worked the exposed length of him in your hand as you bobbed your head up and down the rest, taking about half of his cock into the velvety warmth of your mouth. Running the brunt of your tongue along his shaft you acted upon the courage you felt surge through you, using the hand not at the base of his cock to grapple at his balls. 

You were more than pleased with the strangled moan that fell from Sirius’ lips, you’d gotten groans out of him earlier but not a moan. Remus noted this as well, his mouth still pressed against your ear, “Look at that, he’s so pretty with his head thrown back like that, moaning, and all because of your mouth.” 

One of his fingers found your bottom lip which was dripping with saliva, and he ran the pad of his finger along the cushion of your lip, pressing gently. 

“How’s it feel, Pads?” Remus looked up at the other man.

“She was born to suck cock,” He exhaled sharply as you took him deeper in your mouth, making a point to continue to hollow your cheeks.

The hand cupping your sex slid a finger between your folds, collecting your wetness on a singular digit causing you to jump at the contact before you rolled your hips towards his hand nonverbally begging for more.

Moving his lips to suck dark purple hues into the delicate flesh of your neck Remus spoke into your skin, “Once you make Daddy cum then it's your turn Bunny, don’t be greedy, you gotta give before you get.”

Taking his words at face value you became even more determined to make Daddy cum, knowing that not only would it be a personal feat, your first blow job, but that when it was done you would be getting so much more.

Breathing in sharply through your nose you willed your gag reflex not to act up as you pushed your head down on his cock, taking in as much of Sirius as you could which you were pleased to see that it was a majority of his length inside of your mouth by the time you hit your limit. 

You sucked more harshly at his member, swirling your tongue around what you could before Remus rose from where he had rested behind you, pressing a kiss to the crown of your head before moving to stand next to Sirius. You whimpered when his fingers slipped from your cunt but were intrigued as you watched through your lashes. Observing as Remus’ hands slipped under the smaller man’s shirt, palms running up and down the toned planes of his stomach as he meshed his lips with the other man’s.

You were unsure but you thought that you heard a command for Sirius to rid himself of his shirt as he quickly undid the buttons, letting the dress shirt fall to the floor with Remus’ quickly following suit.

Watching the two men make out with each other, Remus’ hands nestling themselves in Sirius’ long hair and Sirius’ gripping at Remmy’s bare ass, spurred you on in your efforts to make him cum.

Adjusting Siri’s length so that it sat comfortably in your throat and that so you could feel where it bulged against your throat before you swallowed around his length.

If the feeling of his load being shot down your throat wasn’t indication enough that your little trick had done the job then the sharp, “Fuck” the man released from above you certainly was. 

You swallowed his cum just as you had his spit before easing yourself off of his length, taking extra care to keep your teeth from his sensitive cock. Looking up at him with wide eyes you watched him lay his head on Remus’ chest as marks similar to the ones left on your neck were left on his, and though yours were beginning to feel a bit tender you knew that Sirius was loving his as much as you were loving yours.

“Did I do a good job Daddy?” You looked up at him owlishly, cocking your head to the side.

“Fuck Moons if you don’t fuck her I will,” Was all you got in response as Remus chuckled into the newly bruised skin of his lover pulling away to assess you. 

He frowned looking at you as he noticed that you were still in your underwear, “Up,” He ordered, once you were on your feet he was in front of you in a single stride, strong, scarred arms were extending around your torso to undo the clasp of your bra, pulling the straps off of your shoulders allowing the garment to fall to the floor before kneeling in front of you to tug your panties down which you then stepped out of.

“On the bed,” He ordered simply, your panties hanging from the crook of his finger as he moved to deposit them in the pocket of his blazer, cock bobbing in the air as he moved about the room.

Positioning yourself on the bed, on your hands and knees you caught a glimpse of Sirius lounging on an armchair in the room, cock resting against his thigh as he recovered from his first orgasm of the night. He shot you a lazy smile before raking his eyes along your form, studying each ripple and ridge hungrily. 

On your hands and knees, you felt uncomfortably vulnerable but you knew it was all worth it when you felt Remus settle in behind you, his hands moving to grip your hips and pull you back towards his pelvis.

You pushed your bum back towards Remus as you felt the head of his cock run through your soaking folds, you were almost embarrassed by how wet sucking Sirius off had made you but you couldn’t quite summon the energy.

“Don’t rush bunny, I got you, I promise,” With one hand guiding his cock and the other anchoring you to him he pushed just the head of his member inside of you. You clenched around him, trying to suck more of his length up into you because though you technically had him you needed more.

Not feeling particularly patient himself Remus wasted no time before pushing the entirety of his length inside of you, growling as your cunt pulsed around him. 

“Sir!” You moaned feeling yourself stretch around him, having never taken his cock before you weren’t ready for the way that he stretched you so wide it was bordering on painful just barely avoiding tipping over the edge. 

Allowing you a moment to adjust to his length he pulled out of you until his member barely rested inside of you before thrusting himself all the way back in. A hand running down your back signaled for you to arch your back for him which of course you did.

His pace was fast but deep, the depth of his strokes consistent as he reached depths inside of you you hadn’t even known existed before. Pistoning his hips in and out of you the rhythmic sound of skin slapping up against skin filled the room and you could feel his balls slapping up against your clit which each and every thrust.

“Pretty bunny,” Remus’ low voice sounded through the room, accompanied by the sounds of your skin against each other as he leaned back to watch his member disappear in you before pulling back out, “Such a pretty bunny for me, so sweet and innocent aren’t you?”

“Yes Sir,” You responded, allowing your head to drop and hang as you fell onto your elbows rather than your hands.

Sirius tutted as he rose from his seat in the corner, his beautifully tattooed body still glistening with sweat as he began pumping his cock while walking towards you, “Please, she’s not a pretty bunny, she’s a little cum slut. Dumb little bunny.”

You whined out at his degradation, your eyes squeezed shut as a wave of pleasure coursed through you causing you to let out a ragged breath. 

“See, she likes it, dumb bunny.” Though you couldn’t see him you were sure that he was grinning wickedly down at you.

“No m’not! I’m a pretty bunny,” You insisted, though your message was a bit undercut as you slurred your words.

“That’s right, pretty bunny,” Remus cooed, groping the globes of your ass in his hands, squeezing the flesh before pulling away to observe the handprints he left on your skin, if only for a moment.

“She wants to be, but she’s not, she’s just a cock hungry slut.” Sirius countered and you looked up at him with pleading eyes, desperately seeking his approval but all you got was a sneer as he pumped his cock next to your face.

“Not nice, Sir says you’re mean,” You whined as Remus continued to thrust in and out of you, rather enjoying watching the interaction between his two lovers.

“Oh is that right? Well, I don’t fucking care if I’m mean, you’re a dumb fuck bunny and if telling you that is mean then oh well,” He grasped your jaw in between his hand, forcing your head up at an uncomfortable angle to make eye contact with you, “Guess I’m mean.”

The whine you released at that was perhaps the most pathetic of the night, you felt pathetic at the gush of wetness you felt at his words, the pleasure in your belly progressing from a simmer to a boil as Remus’ hand reached around to find your clit, pinching the sensitive bundle of nerves between his thumb and forefinger.

“Don’t listen to him,” The man buried deep inside of your cunt told you, “You’re my pretty bunny, keep on being my pretty bunny, prove Daddy wrong.”

It was all too much, the contrast between Remus’ praising words and Sirius’ harsh ones, the sight of Sirius’ tattooed hand working up and down his shaft, Remus’ pace in and out of you and his hand on your clit. 

It was just all too much.

You could barely see straight as the pleasure boiling in your belly overflowed, like hot lava flowing you felt pleasure flow through your veins as you climaxed. Your orgasm left you feeling warm in every nook and cranny as your eyes rolled back into your head. It felt like you were underwater as your thoughts swam around you, mingling with the noises in the room around you.

Your head was still heavy as you opened your eyes which you hadn’t realized you’d squeezed shut, you jolted forward as Remus continued moving in and out of your pussy, trying to get away from his cock. Your orgasm had been electrifying leaving you sensitive but Remus didn’t seem to be relenting.

“Don’t recall telling you you could cum Poppet,” Remus said from behind you, and that’s when you realized why he wasn’t stopping, “Maybe Daddy was right, maybe you are just a dumb bunny.”

tagging: @randomoutsiders @weasleyposts @amourtentiaa @kittykylax @superbturtlemakerathlete

[nat-seal-well]

bad news: I cannot sleep

good news: I decided to write

bad news: I never intend to actually do anything with this, I just wanted to get this tiny scene written and out of my head

So enjoy more Huxley content, as I have no self-control :)

“You always call me that,” he says, like it’s a realization.

Freelancer looks up at him. “What?”

“You always call me Huxley. Never Hux, like everyone else does.”

They fight off the urge to chew on their lip. “Do you… do you want me to?” It’s a simple change, and easy to make, and if it’s what he prefers they don’t mind at all—

“N-no, I… I don’t mean it like that,” Huxley says, backtracking quickly. “I don’t mind! I just… I’m curious, you know?”

Ah. That makes sense. Freelancer takes a second, a moment to put their thoughts into words that are understandable to anyone other than themself. It’s easier said than done.

“Well… I mean, it’s your name. And names are important. It’s you. And… I like it.” They can feel their face growing warm, realizing how ridiculously sentimental they’re going to sound, but they try to act like it isn’t. “I like the way it looks when it’s written. And… and also how it sounds. And how it feels in my mouth when I say it.” They roll his name around on their tongue even now—silently, of course.

God, how embarrassing. Freelancer never realized how silly it was until they had to say it out loud. But it’s the truth. They avoid looking at him, eyes locked on their phone. What sort of face is he making? Does he think they’re being too weird? Probably, because why else would he be so quiet—

Just as they think they’re about to melt into a puddle of shame, Huxley laughs. “Well, shit, man,” he says. “That’s, like, the sweetest compliment I’ve ever gotten.”

Freelancer wants to die. They raise the hood of their sweatshirt, hoping it’ll help hide them. “S-sorry.”

Why are you apologizing, stupid? Freelancer berates themself. It’s instinct, second-nature. The word always spills from their lips at the first sign of any discomfort.

Huxley leans down a little so he can get a look at their face. And Freelancer might be seeing things, but they’re pretty sure he looks a little flushed. Which is weird.

“What are you saying sorry for, dude?” he asks. “Legit. That’s, like, really sweet, for real. No one’s told me anything like that before. And—well, everyone else always just calls me Hux, ‘cause it’s easier. I… I like it when you call me by my full name. It makes me feel…” he pauses, like he’s looking for the right word. “...I don’t know. Like I’m really here, you know?”

Freelancer does know. Seen, they think. It makes him feel seen. Memories of their first hiking trip come back to them. They recall his confession, how he feels like he fades into the background. It hurts their heart, even now.

“W-well, it’s the truth.” They tug their hood down further so it partially blocks their line of sight. They probably look like an idiot. “You have a nice name and it deserves to be appreciated.” Time to change the subject now, because now the conversation is straying too close to something they aren’t ready to tell him yet, something that frightens them in its intimacy. “I’m starving. Let’s go.”

[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.”

[slashpatty]

streaming interruptions

georgenotfound x streamer reader

summary: you decide to have a peaceful, early stream. unfortunately, george has other plans in mind.  w/c: 0.8k  a/n: let’s go, first fan-fiction completed! it’s not the best but hope y’all enjoy this! cw: slight language, slight cursing and lots of fluff Instead of taking a well-deserved break from streaming, here you were talking to your estatic chat at 11 in the morning. No matter how hard you tried, it was impossible to just leave your endearing community in the dark. They meant the whole world to you as they felt the same about their streamer, (Y/N).

With a following of over 500,000 on Twitch alone, your platform grew incredibly fast along with other web personalities. Unlike other content creators on the internet, you enjoyed showing your face at times. Ever since a certain someone complimented your appearance, you grew the confidence to show your face to your community, the world and friends.

“Hiya, everyone! Guess who is back on the never-ending streaming train?” You exclaimed, smiling directly at the camera. To amuse your audience, you faltered your smile their snarky comments. “C’mon guys, why do you guys doubt me so much...” 

While watching the chat zoom by with more warm welcomes and remarks, you spotted one particular username fly through the buzzing chat box — your nemesis yet good friend, GeorgeNotFound.

Whenever the two of you are in a voice chat together, havoc is always bound to strike. From petty fights to full-on PVP battles, the (Y/N) George duo never backs down from a challenge, especially from each other. Whether on-screen or behind the cameras, the friendship between both of you cannot be explained even by your closest friends.

Due to your abrupt daydreaming session, the audience suspected an unknown distraction took your attention away from the stream. However, it was a donation and the chat suddenly increasing speed that snapped you out of your brief trance.

GeorgeNotFound just donated $500

start your mickey mouse stream already or actually get a real job LMAO

A smile grew a little too quickly on your face which went unnoticed. You cracked your fingers, preparing to retaliate against the man who dared to one-up you.

“Thank you, George for the five-hundred dollar donation and the very helpful reminder,” you replied. “I just remembered I was planning on burning down our Minecraft cottage, silly me!”

Due to the following message ‘DON’T YOU DARE’ being spammed numerously in the chat by the upset content creator, you joined your survival world in hopes of finally being left alone. Unfortunately, your enemy joined the game and immediately demanded to be added to your call.

“(Y/N), how could you possibly destroy our home,” says an unhappy George as you adjust the volume of his microphone. You looked at the camera, and rolled your eyes in amusement.

“It’s not like I wanted to, but it’s a complete mess!”

Tension and silence filled the air for a brief moment before he released a raspy cry through your headphones.

You managed to hold in a chuckle before inhaling to apologize. “C’mon, I’m sorry. You have to admit, the dimensions of the house is so hideous-”

“Then, it’s OUR hideous house idiot,” he interjected loudly. “We built it together Y/N, so it’s very special to me! You may not see value in it, but I do.

You laughed his remark off but this sudden comment made your heart skip a beat. George had never said anything this unusual before. So for once, you did not have a comeback.

Silence crept back into the call but not until George started a small giggling fit which resulted with letting out piles of laughter. “CHAT, I GOT THEM, look at this loser!”

Confused about what got him so riled up, you stayed silent until you heard the sound of flickering flames in-game. Moving your mouse around, you paused once you realized your beloved cottage was burning to a crisp.

You covered your face with your hands, not bothering to look at chats’ expected thread of L’s. The distraction should have been obvious to you at the start, but you were oblivious to it because of the commotion George caused.

“You actually fell for it, how gullible are you (Y/N)?” You watched as his character crouched and spin in front of yours, appearing to be doing a victory dance.

“Gullible enough to actually think you cared about what we did together,” you sighed.

“Wait, hey I d-“

You deafened on Discord and looked over at your chat box. Messages mimicking George’s last words soured through the screen, tugging a grin on your lips.

“Chat, I think it’s best I hop off for the sake of my sanity and yours! Today was surprising and eventful, but I hope you enjoyed the stream!”

You clicked the undeafen button to quickly tell George to say farewell yet received something entirely different in return.

“Shit, shit, shit. What the hell is their favorite flower?” His little avatar ran around the biome in search of flowers. “This is impossible!”

Rolling your eyes, you heaved a deep sigh. “It’s (F/F) and don’t worry, I’ll graciously forgive you.”

You watched as his character ran back to yours and dropped the flower on the ground. As you moved it into your offhand, you crouched and stared into George’s goggles.

When he kneeled down along with you, it took a mere five seconds before you both burst out laughing.

Though your stream did not go originally as planned, George ruining your stream was a fond memory you both would never forget.

[userlando]

I dunno if you do requests, but if you did a possessive/jealous Tom Hardy (or Eddie, or Alfie.... I dunno, they all give off the vibe) I would I've you like my soul or something......,........

oh god, inspiration strikes again..

Alfie wasn’t a soft man, both physically and mentally. He didn’t grow up in the warmest household and his mother, bless her heart, did everything to raise her boys to be great men when their father failed in that department.

Not to say that she’d failed, considering where Alfie had ended up, but it provided him with enough resources and money to take care of her the way she’d struggled to put food on the table and provide for him and his siblings during his childhood.

Alfie wasn’t soft when he’d done unspeakable things during the war, and he certainly wasn’t soft when he’d taken his place as the king of London. His hard exterior and the amount of blood on his hands was enough for people to fear him. And that’s all he would ever ask for. Because fear was respect, and Alfie would pry out anyone’s teeth with pliers if anyone dared to show him anything else.

Alfie wasn’t soft, but that’s the word he’d describe himself feeling when he heard you laugh for the first time. It had been five years but he remembered it so vividly that it still - to this day - made his hands shake in a way he’d never admit out loud. God forbid someone would hear him spew soppy shit that only you found endearing and romantic.

It was a rainy afternoon and Alfie was craving an evening at the pub after a long day at the distillery. A drink was all he’d come for, but then he’d heard you laugh and his ears had immediately perked at the sound.

It wasn’t difficult for him to locate where that sound came from. Because as he suspected, your face was just as radiating as your laugh and it sounded silly, but he knew from the moment he laid eyes on you, that he had to have you.

You were tough at first, your boundaries and lack of interest unlike any other woman’s he’d usually pick up. The way you seemed so unattainable only seemed to pull unwanted male attention, but the more he tried to pursue you, the more word got around. You were his woman, and only his. It infuriated you at first because you were no one else’s but yours, though Alfie knew you’d secretly loved it. Even though you refused to admit it even years later when the topic arose in conversation.

So, Alfie wasn’t soft. But he was soft for you, and he was soft for your laugh. Which was why his ears - much like that day at the pub - perked when he heard your giggle echo in the distillery. A frown immediately cast over his face as he placed his pen down on the surface of his desk.

He glanced around in confusion at first, wondering who the fuck you were speaking to that made you giggle like that. And his stomach churned when he thought of all the greasy men who were working under the roof of his distillery, who’d been instructed to not speak to you if not absolutely necessary. Everybody knew this. No one was foolish enough to risk losing their ball sack to a rusty shank.

Or so, that’s what Alfie thought.

The chair squeaked in protest as he rose from it, rough hands flat on the table to heave himself up as he grunted in annoyance. Annoyance because someone was clearly not doing their job, and annoyance because you knew better than to prance around at the distillery when there was work to be done. And chances are, you looked absolutely gorgeous doing it.

Alfie’s suspicions were correct, he realised, as he walked down the creaky stairs to the base floor. He found you a few yards away, legs that he loved so much clad in stockings he knew he’d be ripping off later. You had the same green dress on he’d seen you dress in before he left for work that morning.

He would’ve stood there and appreciated the way your dress flared where your back met your bottom, or the way you’d prettily pinned your hair back just far enough to reveal your neck. The very same neck he’d buried his face into the night before and just this morning.

Alfie couldn’t appreciate it though, mostly because of the two dimwits standing in front of you, greased up faces smiling as they spoke to you. As if Alfie paid them to slack off. Fucking idiots.

As Alfie moved closer, he could hear your soft voice ask ‘How’s Claire doing? What a strong woman she is for birthing your lovely twins!’ It admittedly made Alfie soften for a second, because of course you’d take interest in everyone’s life and show genuine concern. That was the major difference between you two. Where Alfie lacked, you made up for.

“Right, last time I checked, I paid you fucking idiots to do your jobs,” Alfie startled the two men as he approached, voice booming as usual. “So, tell me what you’re bloody standing around here for.”

You turned around with ease, having been with him long enough to not bat an eyelash at his vulgar words and flaring anger. His face was scrunched up in an expression that would make any sensible man and woman in London cower in fear, and you placed a hand on his meaty arm in a poor effort to calm him down. And to silently tell him to shut up and behave.

“Alfie.” You greeted him like he wasn’t shooting daggers at the two men who now looked like they wanted nothing more than to bolt. You couldn’t blame them. “Hi sweetheart. I was just talking to Christopher and William here about their families. Did you know Will had twins?”

Alfie only managed a grunt because why did you know their names? And Will?

He didn’t know if he wanted to drag the bastard into his office by his cock and beat his face into three different shades or to toss them out on their sorry arses. He knew the first option would send him into the doghouse for God knows how long, and the other option would cause more problems between the two of you than he dared to think about.

“Two girls.” The one he assumed was named William said, albeit a little shakily. The man next to him elbowed him and they both went quiet.

“Right, I must’ve missed the part where I fucking asked.” Alfie was livid, and there were so many factors playing into that reason.

These animals who worked under him knew to never lay their eyes on you, nevertheless talk to you. And he wanted to be angry at how good you looked, at the audacity to walk into the distillery when he knew he disliked you hanging around here during office hours.

Mostly, he wanted to spank your stubborn arse black and blue.

“Alfie, why don’t we go to your office, hm?” You asked softly, feeling the way he was shaking as you squeezed his bicep gently.

He knew what it was though. Your way of telling him to simmer down and behave.

You didn’t wait for him to answer, turning on your pretty polished heels to walk around and past him toward his office. He didn’t miss the way your legs wobbled, and he knew you were well aware of what you were to expect once the fragile door of the office closed behind the two of you. Alfie knew that the wobble of your legs derived from excitement and not from fear. You could scowl and reprimand him all you wanted, but you both knew that you loved his possessiveness at the end of the day.

He watched you walk away, his anger simmering down just a wee bit before he turned his head to the two men standing in front of him. He sucked his teeth, smacked his lips and contemplated beating them with his cane before thinking twice of it.

“What the fuck are you two still doing ‘ere?” His roar was enough to have them scatter like mice.

Alfie huffed and turned around, following in your footsteps to his office where you were waiting.

“How many times have I told you, right, to not fuckin’ walk in here when I’m working, woman?” He walked in and closed the door behind him.

He struggled to contain his anger when he saw you sitting on his desk, legs crossed over each other and his eyes immediately went to the sliver of skin where the hem of your dress had ridden up on your thigh. Alfie’s first instinct was to march up and grab the delicate skin until you squirmed, but he stopped himself.

He gripped his cane tighter in his right hand and rubbed his forehead with the other one. “You’re fuckin’ impossible.”

You frowned. “I can’t help it if you’re possessive, Alf. That’s your problem, not mine.”

“You know how these men are.” He gritted out, gesturing behind him to the distillery. “You cannot be this dim.”

“Alfie Solomons, I know you didn’t just call me dim.” You said and Alfie paused at the tone of your voice.

You sounded annoyed but he could detect the hurt in your voice and it was enough for him to let out a grumbling sigh, stepping up to the desk where you sat. He silently admired the frown lines on your pretty face and prayed that he hadn’t shoved his foot in his mouth.

Alfie got his answer when you parted your legs enough for him to step between them, and he struggled to breathe properly when you circled them around his behind to pull him closer.

“You’re my girl, yeah?” He muttered, bringing a hand up to cradle your cheek.

“Woman.” You protested softly, welcoming the touch as his silent apology.

You watched as his eyes appraised you and held back from preening when he grunted in appreciation and what you knew were hunger as his eyes trailed your body before landing on your face.

“And what a fucking woman you are.” He said lowly, using his hand on your cheek to pull you in for a kiss.

The clatter of the cane falling to the floor didn’t deter you as he let go of it in order to grab you by the waist, pulling you in closer as he deepened the kiss. You moaned into his mouth, not caring if anyone heard you. Alfie pinched the top of your arse in retaliation and you squealed.

“Alfie!” You sounded scandalised but the enormous smile on your lipstick smeared lips said otherwise.

Alfie admired his artwork with a smug smile, knowing that his mouth probably looked a mess too.

“Don’t Alfie me, woman.” He pressed an open mouthed kiss to your lips that tasted a lot like a promise. “This is just a preview of what I’ll be doing to you tonight.”

* * * * *

Welp, that turned sexual. But hello! Hi! Surprise, here’s me answering to an ask five hundred years later. I was in a writing mood so.. hope you enjoy x

[luna-writes-stuff]

Hey I saw that your asks are open for Fili and Kili. I was wondering if you could do a fic or hc about Kili were he falls for the reader and tries to flirt with her but makes her laugh instead. He gets flustered and embarrassed.

Stupid Things, Kili Durin

first fic I’ve published so far and I was nervous???? While I’m literally writing a book????? So technically it’s nothing new????? But still?????

Fic, female s/o

Tw: misread signs? Kili being insecure? Flirting?

For Kili it was as clear as the sky on a warm morning in July; when you first caught his eye, he had grown absolutely smitten with you.

His mother had told him thousands of stories growing up. On how dwarves were once born in pairs, yet separated after years, forced to find each other in another life where they might not even remember their One. These stories had always held hope for Kili, even as he grew beyond the age of being called a dwarfling.

His beard had never truly come out and his hair had not once adorned braids, causing others to make fun of him, claiming he had not been a true dwarf. He felt silly holding onto the hope of finding his One, yet he could never bring himself to forget it. No matter how much life opposed him at times.

And the moment he met you, he had been glad he never gave up.

Every little detail of that day had been imprinted on his mind. From the way you wore your hair to the outfit that adorned your body. He knew you were his One. His mother told him exactly how she felt upon meeting his father, and even though the words always made Kili gag, he now knew she had never been exaggerating.

The whole journey he tried to gain your attention, but whenever you spared him a glance, he always shrunk back, afraid you’d reject him as his kin once had.

Fíli knew what was going on when Kili refused to joke around with the other one night. He had not been as blind as their company. He had spent days trying to talk some sense into his brother, claiming you had liked him as much as he liked you, but - unfortunately -, Kili had inherited his uncle’s stubbornness.

Yet, as the days turned into weeks and the weeks turned into months, Kili grew some courage. You had opened up to the company more, giving him more conversational topics and shared interests. And it had gone well for a while; the two of you got along amazing, never once disagreeing or ignoring one another. And all those talks encouraged Kili to show you he truly cared for you. More than any other has had before.

You grew more teasing and joking amongst each other, finding weak links and soft spots, never failing to make each other laugh. And it gave him courage, until - one night - his bravery overtook him. You had been talking like any other night, when he zoned off, not listening to a word you said anymore.

Instead, he had been trying to find the words he had repeated in his head the entire day. But as your eyes rested on him, he could no longer remember what it was. You were so breathtaking you made him forget his pickup line.

Just then, you were quiet, searching his face before letting out a joyful laughter.

“I’m flattered, Kili.” You began, resting your hand on his shoulder, leaning over in laughter. “Could you not have told me we were doing pickup lines tonight? I would’ve prepared myself.”

He had said it out loud. And he hadn’t even noticed it. He didn’t even know how much you had heard.

“It it hot in here or is it just you?” You retorted playfully, but when Kili made no move to laugh, you slowly stifled your laughter. “I know, that one was horrible. I should’ve been prepared.” You defended, letting go of his shoulder.

You may not have noticed it, but Kili’s brain just ran on short circuit. His entire face he heated up and he was sure it would leave a red glow. His ears felt as if they were on fire as his mind just kept repeating the same words over and over and over again.

How could he do easily let these words slip past his lips? And he didn’t even know how to respond to you. Had you been making fun of him or were you reciprocating his flirtatious attempts? Perhaps he should just walk off before more damage could be done. Should he say something? Or would it only make it worse?

“Are you still in there, Kili?” You asked, snapping him out of his daze, your hand in front of his face, trying to get his eyes to follow your fingers. When his eyes finally made contact with yours, you let out a relieved sigh.

“I thought I just broke you with a stupid sentence.” You explained, leaning back against the tree, your hand slowly lowering.

“I’m sorry for letting my mouth walk free like that.” Kili apologized, now looking back down on his lap, insecurities taking over.

You might not have picked onto his true intentions, but you knew whenever someone did not feel comfortable. And right now, Kili looked as if he could bury himself six feet under. Which may have been true if you would have asked him.

“Don’t apologize. It was sweet.” You concluded, shifting your place so you would be seated next to him. “Though I do not know whether you were joking or not.” You admitted, resting your head on his shoulder.

And at that moment, Kili felt his heart skip a beat. He had heard many people say that the feeling of a skipping heart felt foreign yet welcome all the same, but never once had he experienced it. And now that it happened, he knew why people described it like that.

His entire body froze in that exact moment. Should he lean his head against yours? How should he place his legs? Could he hold your hand?

“Yes, you can hold my hand, Kili. Though, you do know it’s just the two of us, right? You’re not talking to someone else.” You mumbled, already reaching for his hand.

His eyes followed the trail your hands made, as if they could snap up any minute. Yet, as they came into contact with his, his body finally relaxed.

“How much did I say?” He whispered quietly, almost scared of the answer.

“You asked me if you were allowed to hold my hand.” You explained, now looking back up at him. Your face had no longer held the joyeus wrinkles it had before, seconds before laughing at his statements. It was laced with worries and doubts. Not for you, but for him.

“Are you okay?” You carefully asked, afraid you’d had been overstepping some form of boundary.

“You make me do stupid things.” Kili spoke, the sentence flowing out as if it had been on his tongue the entire time.

“Thank you?” You answered hesitantly, not sure whether he was insulting you or compliment you.

It seemed as if Kili could sense your doubt, because his explanation follows not long after. “Not wrong stupid things. Just….unfamiliar stupid things.”

“You’re familiar with a lot of stupid things?” You wondered aloud, your head back on his shoulder, happy to have found some form of solid social interaction again.

“You’d be surprised.” Kili spoke.

“Perhaps the two of us can find a way to correctly discover these unfamiliar stupid things.” You hinted, gently squeezing his hand, making Kili’s heart skip yet another beat. It was a feeling he could get used to. It had not been unpleasant, only surprising, yet he could not find himself ever getting enough of it.

“Beg your pardon?” He asked, not catching the meaning of your words, now entirely focused on your hand in his.

“Fili was right. You are dense.” Now anxiety krept up on him again. What had Fili said? Question circled back around in his head, insecurities settling in again.

“You spoke with Fili?” He nearly managed out, his clothes suddenly feeling uncomfortable warm.

“More like, Fili spoke to me.” You admitted, looking up at the nervous dwarf.

“What did he say?” Kili wondered, no longer beating around the bush. “Nothing that made sense.” You reassured, not sure why Kili suddenly became so closed off again.

“But we could figure out together.” You tried to hush, doing your best to soothe the situation. And it seemed to work. The minute Kili looked back at you again, his eyes were filled with relief instead of doubt.

“Only if you want to.” He stated, finally squeezing your hand back. A verbal answered was not received by him. Only a satisfied smile and a content nod. No intention was made for you to move, and you truly didn’t feel like it. You found a comfortable spot and would not move again until Kili decided you should.

And Kili would never say so. In his eyes, you could’ve stayed there all night and he couldn’t have cared less. He was just relieved that the tension was finally gone, even if it went unnoticed by you. Perhaps it wouldn’t be so bad with you by his side.

[yourstruly-caycay]

Hi! Can I request pregnancy imagine for Loki?

Sure! I’ll probably consider this as a bonus for the continuation of pregnancy imagines haha.

Loki:

"Are you serious?" He ask, shock at the news that you told him.

"Of course, why would I be lying? We're gonna be a parent- hey!!" Your word been cut off by Loki who hug you while swinging you around.

"I'm so glad, y/n! I can't wait to be a father." Then he just hug you for quite long, maybe a bit long, however your clothes are somehow wet.

"Loki, are you crying?"

"No, is a sweat from swinging you around, you're pretty heavy."

Yep, you got offend by his word.

Although, he excitedly tell the news to Odin and Thor, in which they congratulate you.

On the other hand, both Odin and Thor are super annoyed at Loki for talking at how he will become a father and a best dad, and even tease Thor at how he still single. (Thor already have mjolnir tightening on his hand)

Surprisingly, ever since the news, you realize that Loki hasn’t pull a single prank on you. And instead, he keep asking you if you need anything.

Loki is actually very protective of you, he’ll threatening anyone who go near you— of course, he’s not showing it to you that he’s protective, he’ll just be acting carefree in front of you.

Right now, you’re talking with other gods with a welcome smile, but the way they talk seem to be really nervous. “Hey, you okay? You seems nervous.” 

“Y- yeah, I’m fine.”

You’re confuse and yet suspect someone behind you, you turn your back to meet Loki approach near you as he hold your waist, “Y/n, let’s grab some sweet, hm?”

“Eh? Sure, oh well see you later then.” you wave at the god as you leave with Loki, however you didn’t notice the glare that Loki give to them. 

Actually you want to pull a prank on Loki as a payback for a lot of prank he did to you— not a harmful prank, just a harmless and simple one where he can easily fall into it:

“Loki.” You call him weakly.

The voice cause him to startle as he turns around and freeze seeing your figure crawling to him in injured; stomach got a lot of blood along with your hand and feet, “Y/n!” 

He immediately approach you, and  hold you. “Don’t die on me, y/n.” He become panic, confuse, and in anger— they better be dead before he find them.

He carry you and seek for help, somehow when he is about to go to the door, he stumble on Thor. 

“Move!” He glare at his cousin, Thor glance at y/n and immediately understand the situation, “Loki, listen-”

“Can’t you see what’s the situation in here, I said move.” He’s giving a dark aura and a silent rage voice. 

Thor sigh and state, “Y/n, explain this to him.”

Loki got confuse until he heard the small laugh from you, “This is just a prank, Loki, the blood is actually a paint. I plan all of this and ask Thor to stop you before you actually taking me to hospital haha.” 

You laugh so hard as he become dumbfound— god of mischief himself has been fooled.

Ever since the prank, Loki kinda feel a bit down and almost never been seen, which you kinda feel bad for this.

It was night now, and you found Loki sitting on a bed, seems like a miserable man, you sit beside him and apologize “Hey, Loki, umm... I’m really sorry about yesterday, maybe I prank you a bit too harsh.”

There’s a few second of silent until he hug you, “How could you, y/n.” 

“I know and I’m sorry-” 

“How could I, god of mischief, fall easily into your simple prank? I’m still shock that you can pull this very well.” 

You startle at his word, his voice doesn’t sound like he’s disappoint or sad. “Wait, you’re not mad at me this whole time?”

“Huh? Why would I?” he try to progress about what happened to your behavior throughout the day, “Hahaha, wait, did you seriously thought that I’m mad? I can’t believe that you’re worried about me.” He cling to you while laughing so hard, you turn your head from him to hide as you blush.

“You idiot, I can’t believe I fall into the trap.” you playfully hit him with pouty face.

“There there my dear, I don’t even set this trap, you just fall for your own trap.” He kiss your cheek while cuddling you— you’re like a cute mochi as he pinch your cheek.

After some silly argument, you have finally sleep beside him as he just stare at your beautiful face. Then, he touch your stomach and talk to the unborn child. “I’m very excited that I will get to meet you someday, I wonder what you’ll look like?”

He humming a lullaby, remembering the rhyme that his mother once sang to him. He kiss your forehead one last time before drifting to sleep— he’s thankful to have you and the child by his side, and he can’t wait to spend the rest of his life with a family he build.

Thank you @radioactivesweet for helping me with the Poseidon and Loki pregnancy imagines, funny how you just give me one suggestion then suddenly my brain give me lots of great ideas lmao.

[imagineyourworld]

Shang-Chi dating someone who doesn’t like working out Headcanons

Warnings: Slight spoilers for the movie 

You have always known that Shang-Chi, who you have known as Shaun for the past couple of years, was fit, but only when your group of friends went swimming one day and he took his shirt off before jumping in the cool water did you realize just how built he actually was 

It wasn’t until the first time you slept over at his place that you learned how he maintained his physique.  A creaking sound, which you soon identified as one of the old floor boards in Shang-Chi’s apartment, woke you up. When you turned around to greet the man who you were now lucky enough to call your boyfriend you found his side of the bed empty and cold. It took you a moment to put two and two together and realize that he must have gotten up and by the cause of the creaking floorboard. Slowly you sat up and upon looking around the room were greeted with the sight of your boyfriend doing sit ups at the food of the bed.  “Shaun, it’s seven in the morning on a Saturday, what on earth are you doing?”, you asked, a loud yawn soon following your question. Not that you minded the sight, but you would much rather have him still in bed next to you.  “Sorry, did I wake you? I meant to go to the living room, but you know how loud the door is so I thought just doing a quick workout here would be more quiet”, he was quick to explain, though he didn’t stop his sit ups while talking to you. “Would you like to join me?”  A low laugh escaped your lips. Nothing, not even your loving boyfriend, could make you leave the comfy bed to do a workout at seven in the morning.  “I’m good, let me just enjoy the view.” 

You soon learned to sleep through Shang-Chi’s morning workouts, though you never stopped wishing that he’d turn them into midday workouts so you could wake up next to him for once. One day you finally voiced that wish.  “I’m so sorry, baby, I had no idea you felt that way”, Shang-Chi apologized while pressing soft kisses along your jawline. “How about tomorrow I’ll sleep in with you and then you join me for a workout before breakfast.”  The smile quickly fell from your lips. That had not been your plan, not at all. You weren’t exactly out of shape, but not really in shape either and you knew there was no way you could keep up with him.  “Shaun, I don’t know. Wouldn’t it be better if you did a workout while I make your favourite breakfast?”  Shang-Chi took your hands and looked you deep in the eyes, a pleading expression in them you had never seen before. “Please, it would mean the world to me.”  How could you say no to that? 

After that day Shang-Chi tried to make you join him for at least part of his workout more often, though nine times out of then you declined. Sure, you liked the feeling of knowing you did something for your health, but somehow you didn’t seem to get the same endorphins from working out as your boyfriend did, it just wasn’t fun to you.  Shang-Chi soon noticed this and tried a new approach: self defence. Though he hoped that you’d never need it, he knew that he’d sleep better knowing you could defend yourself it need be. 

He was a patient teacher, but also a tough one. When your boyfriend had first suggested him teaching you self defense you had anticipated a lot of flirting and physical contact, and though the latter was true, it wasn’t what you had hoped it’d be. During your sessions Shang-Chi was all business, but afterwards he kept showering you in compliments and kisses, telling you that you were improving and that he was proud of you for doing this even though you weren’t fond of the idea to begin with. 

It wasn’t until after everything that happened with his father and him telling you about his upbringing that you realized why Shang-Chi worked out so much, and why he was so adamant about you at least trying to run faster and punch harder, it was his way of making sure you were protected if he wasn’t around. 

One day, just as your lives were getting back to normal, you were laying on the couch, your head in your boyfriend’s lap while watching TV an idea came to you.  “Hey, Shang-Chi”, you started, the new name still unfamiliar on your tongue after years of calling him Shaun.  His eyes immediately turned away from the TV to focus on you. “Hey, (Y/N)”, he echoed.  You tried your best to fight the grin that was making its way onto your lips at his silly reply, this was supposed to be a serious conversation.  “I understand why you want me to work out, why you want me to be able to defend myself or run away if I can’t, but working out is like... like two night shifts in a row without caffeine and only really smelly coworkers for company”, tried to explain, though judging by Shang-Chi’s low laughter it wasn’t going all that well, so you turned your back on the rest of your carefully laid out simile and jumped straight to the point.  “How about every Saturday I join you for a torturous morning workout and in return you sleep in with me on Sundays.”  Shang-Chi pretended to think about your proposal, but truth be told, ever since the two of you have started sharing a bed and he woke up next to you every morning it was becoming harder and harder to get up early and leave you laying in bed all by yourself instead of pulling you closer and cuddling until you woke up as well. And now that his father and the Ten Rings were no longer an issue, maybe he no longer needed to force you to keep working out.  “Deal”, he said with a big smile, sealing the deal by pressing a kiss to your lips.  You smiled up at him, glad to have finally found an agreement both of you could work with.  “Oh, and I get to choose the music”, you added before turning back to the show you were watching.  You felt Shang-Chi chuckling rather than hearing it. Maybe, with the right person by your side, working out wasn’t so bad. 

-------

This is purely self indulgent because my workout today killed me and the only thing keeping me going was imagining Shang-Chi being there with me. 

PS. I was really uncertain how to spell his name for this, since I’ve seen it spelled multiple ways here on Tumblr, but I ended up deciding on the official spelling used by Marvel. But if any of you speak Chinese/Mandarin, feel free to correct me.