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agaypanic · 8 months ago

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Is this how you request a fic? I have no idea but I’ll try. I’m craving Regina George content. Can you please write something where reader is apart of the plastics but she’s not mean like the rest of them and that’s why Regina likes her. When Cady shows up and Regina has an interest in cady it’s too make reader jealous but instead cady ends up liking reader who distances herself from the plastics and then Regina gets jealous and admits her feelings so reader doesn’t end up with cady. If that makes sense? Thank you!

Craving Your Attention (Regina George X Plastic!Reader)

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Summary: Regina George is the queen of North Shore High and she doesn’t like to share her toys, even if she doesn’t really play with them.

A/N: kinda toxic!regina even tho thats not really a surprise. slight cady x reader, she likes you instead of aaron (also aaron doesn’t exist teehee). The girls arent homophobic bc cady tells gretchen she likes reader and regina ends up with reader (saying this bc idk if you’re gonna read this with 2004 regina or 2024 regina in mind, and obviously 2004 was a different time lmao) content warning for diet talk but it’s just part of one scene. Heavily relied on the mean girls (2004) script for this fic, so it's almost all written centered around Cady. all in third person which felt a lil weird to write because i usually write in second person lol idk if anyone’s gonna want a part 2 but imma lyk rn that im not planning on writing a part 2, mainly bc this took so painstakingly long

***

Everyone at North Shore High knew about Regina George. They’d be stupid not to. She was practically royalty.

A queen bee was nothing without her little worker bees. First was Karen Smith. She seemed to give a whole new meaning to the word ‘clueless,’ but she was friendly. In more ways than one.

Then there’s Gretchen Wieners. She was Regina’s eyes and ears, whether it was wanted or not. All she wanted to do was please her leader.

And finally, there was Y/n L/n. If any of the plastics were to be deemed approachable, it was her. She was Regina’s right-hand girl, maybe even a bit more than that. But no one ever brought that up.

But then Cady Heron came to North Shore.

“Is he bothering you?” Regina tilted her head as she looked at the redheaded girl and the familiar boy who was talking to her. Y/n, who was sitting next to Regina, looked up from her food in curiosity. Regina didn’t usually talk to anyone outside of the table during lunch. The girl made a nondescript noise, so Regina turned her attention to the boy. “Jason, why are you such a skeez?”

Jason rolled his eyes, but tried to seem polite.

“I’m just being friendly.”

“You were supposed to call me last night,” Gretchen pouted, looking over her shoulder at Jason.

“Jason.” Attention was brought back to Regina with the simple call of his name. She wore a sweet smile, which meant that Jason was probably about to get a bite taken out of him. “You do not come to a party at my house with Gretchen and then scam on some poor, innocent girl right in front of us three days later. She’s not interested.” Regina then turned to the redheaded girl. “Do you wanna have sex with him?”

She looked shocked, giving an immediate no.

“Good. So it’s settled.”

“You can go shave your back now,” Y/n finished, and the four plastics waved him off. Jason walked away, but not before muttering an insult to the girls.

“Good one,” Regina said quietly to Y/n, who couldn’t help but smile a bit at the small praise. Before she could reply, Regina’s eyes followed after the red-haired girl, who was now starting to walk away. “Wait.” The single word made her stop in her tracks and look back. “Sit down.”

Regina moved her hands, signaling Gretchen and Karen to move to the sides of the lunch bench to make room for this mystery girl. After some more encouragement, she sat down.

“What’s your name?” Y/n asked sweetly, trying to ease the girl’s nerves.

“Cady.”

“Why don’t I know you?” Regina asked, looking at Cady curiously.

“I’m new,” Cady replied. “I just moved here from Africa.”

“What?”

“I used to be home-schooled.”

“Wait. What?”

Cady took a second, wondering why Regina kept saying ‘what.’ She didn’t think it was that confusing.

“My mom taught me at home-”

“No, no.” Regina laughed. “I know what ‘home-school’ is; I’m not stupid. So, you’ve actually never been to a real school before?”

As she spoke, Regina leaned more and more forward towards Cady. And as the conversation continued, Y/n wondered why Regina was taking such an interest in her. Regina never cared about anyone who passed by, too involved in the latest gossip session Gretchen had started or in Y/n’s appearance. Not that Y/n really noticed that; she was busy thinking about Regina to see that Regina was thinking about her. Either way, she didn’t understand why the blonde was suddenly so fascinated by this new girl.

“You’re like, really pretty.”

Oh… That must be why.

Y/n seemed to tune the rest of the conversation out, too wrapped up in Regina’s compliment towards Cady and the bright smile she wore while giving it. She didn’t know why it bothered her. It’s not like Regina belonged to her. If anything, Y/n, along with the rest of the Plastics, belonged to Regina.

Even when Regina brought Gretchen and Karen in close to speak to them and Y/n, leaving Cady awkwardly leaning back to give them more privacy, Y/n didn’t care much to listen. The gist of the conversation was that they wanted Cady to sit with them at lunch for a week, something they had never considered doing with anyone else in this school.

“Okay.” Regina started as Gretchen and Karen relaxed back into their seats, and Cady leaned back in. “You should just know that we don’t do this a lot, so this is, like, a really huge deal. We wanna invite you to have lunch with us every day for the rest of the week.” Regina wore a grin that meant she was up to something, but Cady didn’t seem to decipher that, and the rest of the girls didn’t know what it meant.

“Oh, it’s okay—” Cady’s tone seemed to indicate that she was about to decline, but Regina interrupted her before she could.

“Coolness.” The bell rang, and Regina’s eyes darted over to Y/n before going back to Cady. Her mischievous smile remained present as she, Gretchen, and Karen grabbed their trays. “So we’ll see you tomorrow.”

The three Plastics stood up and left the table, leaving Y/n in a slight daze and Cady confused about what had just happened. Y/n suddenly looked around, realizing that her friends had left without her, but the new girl was still with her. She figured that she should say something before leaving her alone. She didn’t have to be mean or unpleasant just because Regina seemed to like Cady.

“On Wednesdays, we wear pink.” Y/n said it with a timid but sweet smile, trying to get over the revelation that the girl she loved was setting her sights on someone else. Her hand patted Cady’s a few times before she stood up and picked up her tray. “Welcome to North Shore.”

As Cady watched Y/n leave, and as Janis and Damian dragged the redhead away to interrogate her about her interaction with Regina, she couldn’t help but feel warm. Maybe public school wouldn’t be so bad.

***

The next day, Cady was slightly nervous to sit with the Plastics. She felt like a double spy. Janis and Damian were under the impression that Cady was doing it for them, to listen in on Regina’s secrets and relay them back to her friends so they could laugh at the pathetic and superficial nature of it all. And sure, that was the main reason she was sitting with the girls. But Cady also returned to the table so she could bask in a new light, Y/n.

But living in girl world came with a bunch of rules.

“You can’t wear a tank top two days in a row, and you can only wear your hair in a ponytail once a week. So…” Gretchen laughed lightly, seeming a little nervous for no reason as she looked at Cady, who was wearing her hair in a ponytail. “I guess you picked today. Oh! And we only wear jeans or track pants on Fridays.”

“Which totally blows in the winter,” Y/n muttered before sipping her Diet Coke.

“Now,” Gretchen started again, “if you break any of these rules, you can’t sit with us at lunch.” Cady seemed surprised, but Gretchen continued. “Not just you! Like, any of us. Okay, so, like, if I was wearing jeans today, I would be sitting over there with the art freaks.” She said it with a grimace, pointing over to a table a few feet away from the girls before looking back at Cady. “Oh, and we always vote before we ask someone to eat lunch with us, because you have to be considerate of the rest of the group. I mean, you wouldn’t buy a skirt without asking your friends first if it looks good on you.”

Everyone nodded except for Cady, who was processing all of these new rules she had to follow.

“I wouldn’t?”

“Right,” Gretchen said with a definitive nod. “And it’s the same with guys. Like, you may think you like someone, but you could be wrong.”

“One hundred twenty calories and forty-eight calories from fat,” Regina interrupted, reading a food bar that she had grabbed. She looked at her friends inquisitively. What percent is that?”

“Uh… forty-eight into one hundred and twenty?” Gretchen suggested, not really sure of herself.

“No, I don’t think so, Gretch,” Y/n said, trying to think of the correct answer.

“I’m only eating foods with less than thirty percent calories from fat.”

“It’s forty percent,” Cady said suddenly, proud that she was able to do the equation in her head. Everyone looked at her, expressions varying from impressed to confused. Cady suddenly felt the need to show her work. “Well, forty-eight over a hundred and twenty equals X over a hundred-”

“So then you cross multiply to get X!” Y/n finished off with a grin, thrilled that she knew what Cady was talking about. Cady smiled back at her with the same excited energy, although looking a little more subdued. Not only was this girl super pretty and friendly, but she also seemed decently smart. Maybe Janis was wrong about these girls.

“Whatever.” Regina looked at the two girls suspiciously. She tossed the food bar onto the table and stood up. “I’m getting cheese fries. Y/n, come with me.”

Taken back by the sudden command, Y/n stumbled out of her seat and followed Regina. Cady’s eyes followed her until she was out of sight, and she sighed quietly when she couldn’t catch a glimpse of the girl anymore.

“So!” Gretchen startled Cady with her enthusiastic voice and a hand on her shoulder. As she turned to look at her, Cady realized that Karen was also gone from the table. She must’ve gone to the bathroom or somewhere else. “Have you seen anyone you think is cute yet?”

Cady didn’t know how to answer. There was definitely one person that came to mind, but she didn’t know if she should say the name. Gretchen might react badly if Cady told her, which would most likely lead to her getting kicked out of the Plastics.

But at the same time, she didn’t want to lie.

“Well… there’s this one.. girl.” The last word was quiet and hesitant, but Gretchen picked up on it.

“Oh my gosh, who is it?” She asked excitedly. “Do you think it’s just like, a phase, or is it more serious?”

“I dunno.” Cady shrugged. “I haven’t known her too long to be sure.”

“Who is it?” Gretchen leaned forward in her seat, completely invested in Cady’s answer. It took the redhead a long moment of hesitancy to open her mouth.

“It’s Y/n…”

“No!” Gretchen straightened up, looking absolutely horrified. She looked around, ensuring none of the other girls were back yet. “You can’t like Y/n. Not only is she a part of the group, but… Okay, you didn’t hear this from me, and you’re, like, totally forbidden from ever bringing it up. But Regina is really possessive over Y/n. They’ve been best friends for, like, forever, and Regina chases off anyone who tries to so much as ask her out. And it’s not my place to say whether or not it’s more than friendship, but if I had to say something, there’s definitely something going on between them.” Gretchen took a much-needed breath, shaking her head slightly to clear her jumbled thoughts. “Look, the point is, you shouldn’t date friends. Especially Regina’s friends. But don’t worry, I’ll never tell Regina or Y/n what you said. It’ll be our little secret.”

Gretchen gave Cady a sweet smile, and that seemed to be the end of their little conversation. But for the next few days, Cady kept thinking about it.

She didn’t want to get on Regina’s bad side. That would mean no more things to tell Janis and Damian and no more seeing Y/n. And she also didn’t want to freak Y/n out. But just because Cady wasn’t allowed to like Y/n didn’t mean she wasn’t allowed to look at her. Or think about her. Or talk to her.

A few days later, when Cady was with Janis and Damian at the mall, Janis asked when Cady would see Regina next. She said it felt weird to spy on her and that she didn’t want to do it anymore. And sure, it being weird was part of why she wanted to stop. But mainly, it was because Cady had started getting so distracted by Y/n that it was difficult to focus on Regina. Which was strange, because the blonde girl was so alluring. But Janis reassured Cady that Regina would never find out about her double agent status, that it would be their little secret.

So many secrets.

***

“Hello?” Cady held the phone up to her ear, wondering who was calling her at this late hour.

“I know your secret.” Cady stiffened at Regina’s voice coming through the speaker. She internally panicked, trying to figure out what to do. How did Regina figure out about Cady’s spying?

“Secret?” She decided that playing it cool was the better move. “What secret?”

“Gretchen told me that you like Y/n.” Cady relaxed at the fact that Regina had learned about her other secret, before freezing again. Right now, she wondered if it would be better if Regina knew about the spying. “I mean, I don’t care, do whatever you want.” Regina didn’t sound like she didn’t care, but Cady didn’t bring it up. “But let me just tell you something about Y/n: She’s, like, never gone on a date before. It’s not that she’s not pretty or anything, but no one’s ever really been good enough for her.”

“Oh?” What did this mean? Did Regina deem Cady good enough for Y/n after so many others tried and failed? Or was this a set-up?

Honestly, Cady was so happy for Regina’s blessing that she didn’t really care.

“I could talk to her for you, if you want.”

“Really? You would do that?”

“We’ve been friends since like, pretty much birth. I know exactly how to play it.” There was a moment of silence, and Cady could picture Regina picking at her nails. “But wait. Aren’t you mad at Gretchen for telling me? Because if you are, you can tell me. It was a really bitchy thing for her to do.”

“Yeah, it was pretty bitchy, but I’m not mad.” Cady was a little mad, but she didn’t feel like saying that. “I mean, it’s better she told you instead of Y/n. I dunno, I guess she just likes the attention.” Cady didn’t know why she said that last part, but it had just spilled out of her mouth.

“See, Gretch? I told you she’s not mad at you.” Cady was a bit confused, but then another voice spoke.

“I can’t believe you think I like attention!” There was a click, and Cady assumed the Gretchen had hung up. She had no idea she was even listening.

“Okay, love you. See you tomorrow!” Cady could hear Regina’s smile, and then there was another click followed by a dial tone, showing that Cady was now the only one on the line. She then hung up herself, processing the three-way call she had just survived.

And then after that, Cady realized that she had gotten Regina’s blessing to try to pursue Y/n.

***

“What day is it?” Y/n asked, looking down at her worksheet. She didn’t usually do homework at lunch, but lately, some of her classes had been kicking her ass.

“It’s October third,” Cady answered almost immediately, catching the suspicious eyes of Regina and Gretchen.

“Thanks, Cady,” Y/n said, looking up at the girl and giving her a sweet smile before returning to her paper.

“I dunno why you don’t just ask one of the Mathlete dorks to do it for you,” Regina said, looking over Y/n’s shoulder. “They’d probably even do it for free.”

“We’ve talked about this, Regina. If my teacher didn’t catch on, it would still totally bite me in the ass when I’d have to do a test all by myself.”

“You need help with math?” Cady asked, subtly leaning closer to Y/n. The girl looked at Cady, now completely distracted from her work.

“Yeah! I used to get it, but trig is crazy hard.” Y/n sighed, delicately rubbing at her tired eyes so she didn’t mess up her makeup. “I feel like I’m never gonna get it.”

“I can help you!” Cady said, excited over this opportunity. She had always excelled in mathematics, and now Y/n needs help with that exact subject? It seemed like fate.

“Really?” Both Y/n and Cady missed the slight glare that Regina was giving them.

“Oh right, Cady’s like, a total nerd.” They also chose to ignore Regina’s snide comment before sipping her Diet Coke.

“That would be amazing, Cady! Maybe I could come over after school today or something?”

Cady was about to say yes, a million times yes, but Regina butted in.

“Y/n, you’re coming over to my house today.” It didn’t really feel like Regina was reminding her of forgotten plans. Instead, it sounded like Regina was coming up with a reason for Y/n to be unavailable. Cady’s suspicions were confirmed by the confused look Y/n gave the blonde.

“I am?”

“Yeah.”

“Oh… Well, how about tomorrow?”

“Perfect!” Cady spoke quickly and enthusiastically before Regina could say another word.

***

Over the next month or so, Cady tutored Y/n a few days every week. It quickly became their favorite part of their days. After helping with a few problems Y/n was stuck on, the two girls would get distracted by conversations about whatever they wanted to talk about. Neither of them felt the need to filter themselves in fear of being made fun of by one of the other Plastics, mainly Regina. Topics ranged from the latest gossip to future plans to their favorite things in media. If Cady had never heard of something Y/n brought up, which was the case nine times out of ten, the tutoring session would turn into a movie night or music party.

“Oh my gosh, so…” Y/n and Cady were in the middle of watching a chick flick that Cady had never seen when Y/n suddenly spoke. “I’m having a Halloween party at my place. We usually do it at Regina’s, but for some reason, she didn’t feel like doing it this year. Are you gonna come?”

“Yeah, sure.” Cady’s response made Y/n smile brightly, a sight that Cady could never get sick of.

“Awesome!” Y/n sat up from her slouched position, her excitement waking her up from her slightly tired state. “It’s a costume party, which’ll be a lot of fun. I can give you a flier with all the info tomorrow. Even though I know you’re invited, you need the flier to get in. It only admits one person, so don’t bring anyone else with you.”

“Grool.” Y/n blinked in slight confusion, and Cady realized what she had said. “I… I meant to say ‘cool,’ and then I started to say ‘great.’”

Y/n giggled, which made Cady’s cheeks heat up.

“Right. Well, grool.” The two laughed, and then Y/n looked down at her watch. “Oh my gosh, it’s so late. I should probably get going.” With the help of Cady, Y/n gathered her things. “See you tomorrow!” In a flash, Y/n kissed Cady’s cheek before walking out of the room and leaving Cady’s house. Cady’s cheeks felt like they were on fire, and she lightly touched the cheek Y/n had kissed.

***

One thing that no one told Cady was that on Halloween, many girls opted for very revealing costumes rather than actual costumes. So when she arrived at Y/n’s house, she stuck out like a sore thumb in her dead bride attire while her friends wore tight clothes and animal ears.

“Why are you so scary?” Gretchen asked with concern, looking at Cady’s appearance with wide eyes.

“It’s Halloween,” Cady said with a shrug, not knowing what the problem was.

Suddenly, a hand touched Cady’s arm, making her jump. But she quickly relaxed when she saw who was touching her.

“You came!” Y/n squealed, bringing Cady in for a hug. The redhead felt a bit flustered by the contact, plus seeing Y/n in her slightly revealing outfit. When they broke the embrace, Y/n held Cady by the shoulders, surveying her outfit. “And you’re a… zombie bride…?”

“An ‘ex-wife.’” Cady replied, using her fingers to air quote.

“Well, I love it.” Y/n finally let go of Cady, although she wouldn’t have been opposed if she kept holding onto her. “You want something to drink?”

“Sure.”

“I’ll be right back.”

Y/n squeezed Cady’s arm for a quick moment before turning around. She weaved her way through the crowd to get to the kitchen, where a shit load of different drinks were scattered on the counters. She started mixing a drink for Cady when she felt a presence behind her.

“What the hell is Cady wearing?” Regina asked, squinting to see Cady from across the room.

“She’s a zombie bride!”

“She looks like a freak.”

“Regina!” Y/n set down the bottle she was pouring and looked at the blonde. “Be nice.”

“Whatever.” Regina rolled her eyes, pushing her hair off her shoulder before leaning on the kitchen counter. “You know, you should probably be careful around her. She has a giant crush on you.”

“What?” Y/n’s eyes snapped to Regina, immediately curious. “How do you know?”

“She told me. She tells everybody. It’s kinda cute, to be honest. She’s like a little girl.” Regina laughed, and Y/n tilted her head and raised her brows, silently asking for more details. “Like, she writes ‘Y/n plus Cady’ and stuff like that all over her notebook. And she made this shirt that says ‘I heart Y/n’ and she wears it under all of her clothes.

“Oh, come on.” Y/n sighed and rolled her eyes, figuring Regina had been joking. “That’s not funny, Regina.”

“I’m serious! She’s, like, obsessed with you. And who can blame her?” Regina’s hand reached out and brushed a stray lock of hair away from Y/n’s face. When Y/n looked at her friend, she was suddenly closer than before. “I mean, you’re gorgeous.”

“Regina.”

“If I’m being honest… I hate the way she looks at you.” Regina grabbed Y/n’s chin before she could look away, forcing them to maintain eye contact. “It makes me sick. She should know better than to think she has a chance with you.”

“What are you saying, Regina?” Y/n’s voice was barely a whisper, but the blonde heard her loud and clear despite being in a crowded room with blasting music and semi-drunk teenagers.

“I’m saying you’re mine, Y/n.” With every word, Regina inched closer and closer. “I don’t want you to be with Cady. Or with anyone else.”

Regina closed the small gap between her and Y/n’s lips, wrapping her arms around Y/n’s body to keep her close. After the wave of shock washed over her, Y/n reciprocated the kiss. Neither of them cared about any of the people around them watching. Including Cady, who watched from across the room with watery eyes and a breaking heart.

Cady had lost Y/n to a competition she didn’t even know she had. Y/n had finally gotten the girl she had been wanting for years after being kept at arm’s length away. And Regina had once again ruined someone else’s happiness for her own.

***

Regina George Taglist: @wedfan2 @pyro-les @natashamaximoff-69

#agaypanic #regina george x reader #regina george #mean girls #mean girls x reader #rachel mcadams x reader #rachel mcadams #renee rapp #renee rapp x reader

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yuri-is-online · 5 months ago

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I kinda wanna hear more about Azul! Yutu if you are willing

Very. He is long overdue for a proper post. I'm going to skip over some of the stuff that happens while he is in the bad future as I am a big fan of what Archivist has been writing, and would encourage you to look at their posts (here, here, and here) They've been a huge inspiration for this ayuu and finally gave Yutu some friends! I am really really attached to them and their dynamics with the various Yutus and might have written some stuff where they hang out but didn't post it because idk if you folks would be interested...

notes: they/them used for Yuu, for context on the fyuuture kid au can be found here and here. You can find even more stuff for it on my masterlist under the series section.

Yuu started removing mirrors from the house when he was around nine. They did so slowly, and Yutu had been avoiding them for so long he barely notices when their gone. It's not like he was born hating himself, he remembers playing with Yuu in the garden hose or the bath tub and feeling... happy. But that was when he was a little kid, he's almost double digits now he shouldn't be feeling sick to his stomach about this. It feels hard to walk some days, like his balance is wrong and his body is made of the incorrect material. It isn't normal for a kid this young to hate his own bones because it is the bones isn't it? They're hard until their not hard enough and he's stuck in a cast for the summer. Yutu tries to be grateful it's on his arm and not his leg, but it doesn't keep his mind off of things. He feels unwhole every time he tries to walk, and he has no words to express what's missing other than to say he feels unsafe. And it's hard to say that when he knows there's no solution you can give him for what he's feeling. If you could cut off your own limbs to make him whole you would, but then that would leave him just as alone wouldn't it? The last cost Yutu wants to pay to fix himself is the life of parent who loves him.

But that's what the price ends up being. And as he lays there trying to scream only to be rejected by the air he'd spent so much time wasting as his body churns on the floor into the form he'd spent so much time dreaming of he has to wonder why he ever thought the outcome would be different. He should have known that he was never meant to be anything other than alone.

Yutu was a chunky baby, and for the first bit of his life no one minded that at all. He was so cute, Yuu had a bunch of pictures of their precious baby boy and even though there were questions about how he came to be those were sort of shoved to the side in favor of cooing over his cute nose and chubby cheeks. But the cooing turned to concern when he started having some problems reaching his developmental milestones; it took forever for him to learn how to walk, even when Yuu helped guide him through the motions it somehow just didn't seem to stick. Talking was difficult, he'd learned how easily enough but he just preferred not to, wanting to communicate through noises and looks instead. Yuu would try to calm their worries and focus on how he at least slept through the night, but they never did get a solid opinion on why Yutu was so slow to learn from any doctor they saw.

His slow development cause Yuu to really focus on going over his lessons with him at home, it fosters a love of learning in him that evolves as he grows. At first it's very innocent, his eyes are wide with childlike wonder at the world around him and his smile is as bright as his eyes. "Unfortunately" (because it's not truly unfortunate that his parent can still afford to feed him) he's still a chubby little boy, and one who is missing a parent so he's an easy target for his peers to isolate and tear into. He feels like a beached whale, or a dried up octopus, his self esteem is severely hurt as is his outlook on the world. Yuu feels like they are seeing a familiar sight when their child hiccups through recounting his day as they desperately try to hold back their anger and think of a way to deal with this logically.

"Your daddy went through this too." Yutu blows into the tissue you hold for him and tries to hide his surprise. He's always eager to learn about his father, you wish you could think of more to tell him but the words you're saying don't fully feel like you are thinking as you say them. It's like you are briefly being possessed by someone else, just that the "someone else" is... yourself from when you were whole. "He was really hurt by it, and he was one of the strongest people I knew. So it's ok if you need to cry about how you feel."

"I dooon't want to feel." He pushes his face up against your chest like he's a baby again trying to soothe his nightmare against yoru heartbeat and you squeeze him as tight as you can. "I want it to stop, can daddy tell me how to make it stop?" Your mind screams that however daddy handled it must have been bad, it turns to look at someone, you can just see the outline of him. He's handsome, well put together and he's... worried.

"I don't want them to be scared of everything; suspicious,̸̮͉͓͔͎̭̜̦̽̄̆̇̿̈́̍̉̽͌̍̕ͅͅ ̶̰̙͔̝͕̞͍̭͙͕̇͆͌̋̿̌͐̂̿͘̚͝y̷̨̪̳̳͉̮͚̅͗͗̽̔̂͐͌̽͠ę̶̩̣̤͚͎͔̯̖̭͐̃̏̓͐̾͐̓̎̇̅̊͐̕s̸͚̖͙̗̣̩̼͎̼͇̝͂̿̉̌͛̈͜ ̴͔̟̤̩̗̯̦̀͐̄̽̊͛͑͋͊͒̓̕͝b̵̧̧̡̰̪̫̤͔͚͕̝̠̹͈́̀̈́͌̄͋̔̿́̕͘ǘ̵̢̼͖̪̱͖̼̼͎̲͈͙͆̀̎͌̍̎̂͐͗̇͌̎̊̚ț̶̛͖̹͚̾̆̂͑̌̊̕ͅ ̴̢̛͇͙̱͇̝̺͇̗̫̘̥͛̀͊̅n̸̢̥͕͗̓e̴͙̹̹̘̮̫̦͐v̶̡̡̧̡̛͓̮̝̺̮̜̳̠̜̅͊̒̄̔͂̋͋͋̊̔̈́͆͘ë̷̟̳̲̰̗͉̬̘̘̣̳̼͙́̑͜ŗ̸̳̹̺͔̦͔̮̖̔͆̊̈́͆̈̔̊͠ ̶̧̢̩̺̗̗̲̠̬̰͇̣̦̈́͑͜͜p̶̱̗͔͔͌a̴̰͓̎͂̅̓̈̎͝r̶̯̰̪̟̾̾̓̂̈́͆̈̀̒̓̕͠ ̴͇̖͉̯̖̞͍͐́͊͛̐̂̐á̵̢͎̙͎́͝ ̸̨̙̞̙̩̮̺̦̻̗̭̩͉̱̠̐̓̿͘ń̷̡̡̡̧̨̪̜͕̠͐̄̉̐͝͠ő̸̥̹̣̙͛̏̏̃̋̍͝͠ḯ̶̢̛͍͔̯̤͊̈́̉̑̂̈̐͊̚̕ḋ̸̦̘̮͍͙̜͈̙͉͖̭͚̊͌͗̊̊̈̾̄͌ͅ ̵̛̛̠̫͙͎̘̣̘͕͗̒̈͒̓̅͊̔͘͝"

Yutu's silence brings you back to reality, he's mercifully fallen asleep against you and missed the aftershocks of your migraine. It's nothing new, but somehow this little scenario makes you feel that much more tired, and that much more alone.

I've mentioned it before but Yuu decides to enroll Yutu into martial arts classes as a way to help with his self confidence and the bullying. In my mind the end up doing it out of a worry that the bullying could get physical, and in the hopes that maybe Yutu will make friends with the kids in his class. It sort of works, Yuu enrolls them in a parent-child class and they certainly make some connections. Yutu finds some inner peace from the class, but his experiences at school make him very shy and keep him from truly opening up to the people around him. The friend groups he finds his way into never seem to fully accept him, a lot of it comes down to petty rivalries over sport and school. Yutu is smart sure, but he knows that no amount of talent makes up for hard work and he's a very hard worker. He's too proud to do something like throw a match or fail a test just for a little social acceptance, and not afraid to say as much.

That's not to say he doesn't want to be accepted, he does. He really deeply does he just doesn't think he could live if that acceptance was fake. Part of that, not that he ever tells Yuu this, is fueled by their descriptions of his father and of how much they loved him. If his dad was in the same position and found you then one day, he hopes, he'll find someone who accepts him too. And he'll make sure to stay alive and do all the little things with them they have ever wanted to do, no matter how out of his comfort zone or weird he finds them to be. Azul! Yutu is a bit of a hopeless romantic underneath his jock appearance, so he's one of the yutus that assumes his dad died in a tragic accident that left your memories in shambles. He's willing to fight people on that point, but Yuu made him promise not to and while he's fussy about listening to other people, he always listens to Yuu.

Which makes the trip between worlds that much harder on him. He might have been alone, but he wasn't exactly lonely. Not when he had a home to come back to and a parent who loved him, he could handle waiting for people who would accept him when he already had someone who did but now... It doesn't help that from his perspective he immediately does something stupid by getting put in Savanaclaw. Crewel already told him his dad was the dormleader of Octavinelle, that he was an exemplary student but not very... athletic so why would he be any different than anyone else. This isn't helped by the reception he gets from his dormmates. Yutu never starts fights, but he sure as hell finishes them and the amount of people left on the floor by the end of his first week makes everyone aware of that.

It earns him respect, and it would have immediately made him his first friend if he had been willing to take Sav at his word when he asked him to show him how he fought so well. Instead he insists on acting like Saitama and making the guy "prove" himself, something that Crewel watches from the sidelines with a weary expression. So his grandson wasn't lying, he really does take more after his dad than you.

He does not so much make other friends as they do make him theirs... two Heartslabyul students and an overly enthusiastic gamer from Ignihyde who sticks to him like a wet cloth and he hates the realization that he's worried about these guys. Sav, Thrush, Fiore, and... Mori. He loves these people. He hopes they never die, but everywhere he looks he sees omens. It hurts, he never knew he had three hearts or that he could fill them up with so much love that it wants to bleed out of him but he refuses to let it. He's learned that he's stronger than he ever thought possible, he'll squeeze a good outcome out of this, for you and for them it never had to be one or the other.

Traveling back in time and being separated from his friends terrifies him. Sav is always refusing to use his brain, what if he got lost because he decided not to read a sign somewhere? Fiore is a little shit and Thrush can't be assed to keep his brother in line what if they get thrown in jail and Yutu has to actively stop himself from thinking about Mori. The muscles in his chest go taut and he forgets to breathe until little black dots prick at his vision from all the ways things could go wrong for the self proclaimed "white mage of the FC party." The guy is just too much of a flight risk... he needs to fix this fast.

But does he? Having you alive again is like a dream, sure you're younger now and don't know him from a hole in the ground but he gets to see all of the memories he was so curious about. He's especially happy to have met Ace and Deuce, they remind him of his own Heartslabyul friends. His world feels a bit more full when he sits to eat a meal with you, guys who he guesses he'll probably end up calling Uncles at some point, and Grim. He's got mixed feelings about Grim, but the little guy really seems to like him now and it's funny to think about whether or not he's the older or younger brother. He's starting to remember what it's like to have a family again, speaking of which...

"Aww looks like you're a real dorm leader now ain't ya shrimpy?" Floyd's voice sounds fun, and it's all Yutu can do to keep from smiling. He instantly understands why Jade must have missed him so much, they looks alike but the difference in tempo is apparent from their stance and dress, and just looking at the younger version of his Uncle he can see how much more alive he feels.

"Pleased to make your acquaintance, Yutu was it?" Jade's smile suggests danger, he thinks the name is funny that's his guess. The glint in his eyes suggests he wants to tease, and Yutu prepares to make some comments of his own before he notices that his Uncle's attention is not on him but rather- "Floyd told us about your unexpected arrival," he has been avoiding this for so long he almost didn't see the familiar stranger next to Jade, the rest of his words are heard but not noted as he looks directly at his father for the first time. What a painful realization that is.

"Hey hey grouper, you ok?" Floyd's tone very much does not suggest worry but it brings him back to the present. Or would it be the past?

"Grouper? Might regret calling me that pool noodle. Yeah I'm fine, just surprised you came over here yourselves. I thought I was doing good keeping my nose where it belongs." Yutu swears Azul looks genuinely hurt for a second, but it disappears under his glasses and his patented grin.

"Well you certainty don't pull any punches do you?" If Yutu didn't know any better he'd assume his dad was... excited.

He is, he's very excited. Yuu is a kind hearted person and Azul loves them for it, but Yutu has some of that hater energy he knows he can work with. A second set of eyes on Yuu's world is just what Azul needs to win their ha- expand his business, so he keeps finding ways to talk to Yutu. He ends up learning a decent bit about him despite Yutu's best efforts: he's lying about his unique magic to catch people off guard when he uses it, he's not a muscle head nor does he take particular pride in his physique despite the intense amount of effort he puts into staying strong. It's interesting to watch the sort of things he likes to eat... sure a lot of it is healthy food but none of it is health food. That ends up being the first real conversation they have and it throws Yutu for a bit of a loop. It reminds him of that conversation he had with Yuu all those years ago when he was crying about being bullied. About how his dad gone through the same thing he did and suddenly his dad seems a bit more like a person and less like a shadow that's haunting him.

The way his dad looks at Yuu is breathtakingly soft. Azul is ambitious, talented, hardworking, and oh so desperate to impress that Yutu finds it hard to hear their doubts about the way he feels because he can see all of the signs clear as day about how Azul feels about Yuu. Uncle Jade's stories about how Azul was silly in his affections, the little ways he got excited when Yuu complimented him or how much of a show off he insisted on being around them are happening right in front of him and while he wonders about that little thing he always tried to avoid. The "could have been." Would his dad have agreed with Yuu's decision to enroll him in martial arts? Or would Azul have put him in a different school, would that even have been nessecary or would people be too afraid to make fun of his son? That promise Jade said Azul made to Yuu about never having to go hungry again... would he have kept it? Yutu never starved but he knows his parent did, what would Azul say if he knew? Would it break him? Would he even care?

These thoughts take a toll on Yutu. He can't keep pretending he isn't worried about his friends when he is trying to avoid thinking about his parent's relationship, and vise versa so he puts more effort into finding them. Thrush and Fiore are the easiest, they made their way to Craneport and established a base pretty quickly and are surprisingly not complete shits about him taking his sweet ass time to find them. Sav is though, the Scalding Sands is a long way away and getting him to Sage's Island proves to be tedious and expensive, of course he's going to complain and pick a fight when Yutu shows up again. He hates to admit it but it feels good to have his sparring partner back, it perks up his mood a tiny bit. But time beings to drag on with no signs of Mori, Yutu is getting more restless in his worries and clumsier in hiding where he's going. Sure he knows how to shake off a tailing eel, but an octopus? The only one he's ever known is himself.

Azul learns from his various contacts that Yutu has friends. He keeps his appearance under the hood, but his friend group is close and clearly working towards some sort of goal. None of the names he gets show up in any systems he has access to, Jade does his best to find a shred of evidence that these are people who exist and can't. It worries all three of the octotrio, this is a problem they need to get to the bottom of and fast. But before that can happen another one of those portals opens, this time outside Ramshackle Dorm while Azul is trying to spend some precious alone time with you. And the thing that comes out of it is terrifying.

The blot phantom is unlike anything Azul has ever seen, not in a textbook or in person. It's a misshapen mass of a person, clothing real but foul smelling and stained with ink.

"Use my phone to call the twins and get out of here as fast as you can." Azul doesn't like his chances alone, but he likes yours even less. You don't run, it brings just a bit of a smile to his face, but you still call Jade as Azul weaves ice around it's legs to try and keep it down. The monster howls squirming against the ice and screaming at him like he should understand what it's talking about. Azul tries to stare it down, tries to appear like he's a mage that belongs on the front lines and not a support. The best support but still, he's slow. Too slow to dodge the vine that whips out of the creature's back and speeds towards his heart but fast enough to catch the scream that tears from Yutu's throat.

"STAY AWAY FROM MY DAD YOU FUCKING PIECE OF TRASH!" Eight cosmic tentacles rip out of the ground and tear into the monster, Yutu's chest is heaving with the strain of bringing his full strength to bear as Azul pauses to collect himself. As Yutu finishes off the monster he goes over what he knows, looks at the boy in front of him and traces parts of himself in him and forgets his previous plans to expose him to Yuu as a fraud. When his child looks back at him, disguise knocked off and fear clear on his face the reason for the previous distance Yutu has been trying to maintain suddenly makes sense. Before Azul overblotted he was quiet. There's a similar quiet over him now, a similar look of tense surprise, but Yutu- no- his child doesn't know that. His child is looking at him in fear, in worry for his reaction or his safety he doesn't know but he knows the way those tears start to form. Azul knows the quiver of the lip and the shriek, of all the things he could have passed on to such a treasure.

"You deserved better from me." Because it's true. He might think of himself as a work in progress but he still thinks he has quality; he would have done research, read every book he could get his hands on, taken classes, anything he would need to do to be a good father, a worthy partner. Anything. "You deserved to have the world within your grasp, not whatever shadow of a future and a father I left you with. I am so sorry." He does not expect Yutu to grab him and hold him like he's still somehow worthy of his love, but Azul can't fight the urge to grab back, to stroke his son's hair and let the tears fall on his suit without any care at all. I'm here. It's ok, daddy's here, daddy's got you, he won't let anything happen to you.

Azul likes to make plans. He planned how he would confess to Yuu (it did not go as planned but he still planned it) and he has clear ideas about the future he wants to have with them. Yutu was already a part of it, he's dreamed of having somewhere safe and full of love to come home to since he realized what his feelings for Yuu were. So to see that dream come to life, to have it crying in his arms about how someone else corrupted it into a nightmare and stole what he'd worked so hard to earn- Oh Azul is a petty and vindictive little bitch once he has gotten his own tears out of his system. He's extremely proud of all the work Yutu has already done towards ending the bad future, and while he is disappointed that he didn't think to ask for his help he is understanding. If he was in Yutu's position he doesn't know how he'd react, but he could see himself making similar choices.

He insists on having a family dinner so he can get to know all of the real things about Yutu from him instead of just observing them. He wants the three (and a half since Grim's there too) of you to cook together and just talk before getting down to the sad business that's brought Yutu here. Some of it's instinct to feed his child, but mostly he wants to prove to his son that he's worthy of being his father. That you chose him out of everyone for a reason, something Yutu sort of knows already but he's wanted to have his father in his life for so long that he plays up his nerves just a little bit so he can be spoiled by him.

Azul's reach is long, and combined with the twins finding where Mori is should be much easier. What worries Azul is the bad future and the little information Yutu tells him about how it started. He's never had any real reason to doubt what he knows about overblots, or to distrust the Headmage, or to think Grim could kill him. But if the world ends the economy does too, and he is not about to die before he's achieved everything he's been dreaming of. His ambition is almost scary, but Yutu can't bring himself to be afraid. This version of his father is the nicest one he's seen yet, and if it means anything to anyone, he'd like to keep him just as much as Azul wants him too.

#<3 asks #twisted wonderland x reader #twst x reader #future kid au #azul ashengrotto x reader #azul ashengrotto x yuu #idk if i like this post :/#bleh as i told archivist i accidentally got attached to doomed yaoi w mori and azul! yutu to the point the only way i could convince yutu #to let me finish the last half of this post was putting on the fucking our life soundtrack #otherwise i was stuck drawing a blank #what a little jerk >:c

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gaffney · 3 months ago

Note

Wait SAY MORE about junior year Ducks. Who is on Varsity vs. JV in your mind?

OK SO i got this ask but i also got another asking which issues i could see the ducks having in junior/senior year so i’m just gonna combine them!!

for me, the people making varsity would be adam, julie, guy, ken, fulton & charlie because (imo) they've always had the most potential

i like to think imagine adam would struggle with the fact that this may be a repeat of freshman year, however i do think because he has more ducks with him it’d be an easier transition this time around. i’d also love a storyline where has to deal with old varsity members who he knew in freshman year (who were in their sophomore year/now their senior year) who still feel like he betrayed them and don’t want to trust him. maybe a player who’s on the same level as banks and gives him an actual challenge for ~star player. would also love the return of the hawks (larson and/or mcgill) in his personal life because i’ve always felt like that was an unfinished storyline

one thing i’ve always appreciated about the ducks is that it’s a mixed team of boys and girls, with everyone on equal footing. connie, julie, and tammy have always been just as good as the rest (or even better). and it worked really well at the peewee level! but if we’re being realistic… as they get older, i feel like physical differences might start to have a bigger impact. especially in contact sports like hockey. in d3, we already saw connie getting knocked around pretty easily because she’s fucking tiny in comparison to some of the dudes. hell, they even alluded to it in d2, when dwayne had to rescue her by lassoing the opponent. so yeah, i think it would make sense to have separate teams to ensure everyone’s safety and fairness… and eden hall definitely has the resources for it. it’d be awesome to see a storyline for connie where she came to terms with this (and this mostly being the reason she didn’t make varsity) and then decide to team up with linda to petition for a women’s team at eden hall. this would most likely cause friction with julie, however, who is playing on a mixed team’s varsity and doesn’t want to give that up–but, as a goalie, is also in a slightly different situation because she isn’t getting the brunt of all the physical plays. this would actually be a really cool fic to read… if written with respect ofc. i don’t wanna see any misogynistic or transphobic bs

for guy, i think he’s a great technical player. he’s above the average, but he’s also just kinda… there. he doesn’t have adam’s single-minded focus & talent, or charlie’s tenacity & leadership insight, or jesse’s killer instinct, or even something that sets him apart like fulton’s slapshot or kenny’s fluidity on the ice. something that always catches my attention is guy basically going “we all played like shit” and connie retaliates with “no YOU did that, i played hard” which was 100% a line they threw in to make us aware of the fact they’re (still) fighting. but i like the headcanon that guy joined the ducks (district 5 at the time) because he wanted to have fun with his friends, and it turns out he’s actually pretty good, but he doesn’t actually have that a lot interest in the sport itself. he could struggle with the fact that he doesn’t have the passion that other people may expect from someone with his skill

with kenny, i think he’s a great player and deserves a varsity spot no doubt, but i would honestly just love more insight as to why he quit figure skating to play hockey in the first place 💀 like is it a cultural impact vs financial stability kind of thing? tibbles says “i convinced him hockey had more of a future” which might be true. does kenny ever end up regretting choosing hockey? we will never know… because even the creator of tmd did not care to give him a narrative and i think that’s bs. i would also love a kenny & tammy intro, where tammy was the opposite and decided to choose figure skating over hockey

fulton would continue the storyline they scrapped in d3: who is he without his fellow bash brother? i love bash bros but i’d love to see him realize that he is his own person and that whatever future he sees for himself–whether that’s in hockey or something else entirely–he doesn’t NEED portman there to be a great player and defenseman. in turn portman would feel Some Type Of Way that fulton got picked for varsity and he didn’t, but this also makes him determinated to improve on his own too. give them some friction but in the end they realize that they don’t need each other on the ice to grow but want to be in each other’s lives anyway

and then there’s charlie… let’s take away that c!! i’d imagine varsity already has a captain and charlie has to settle for not leading the charge for once (tho he’ll get it back in senior year imo). i just want him to build a better relationship with hockey and have fun without the pressure of trying to fill a certain role or weird attachment issues. but i also think i’d like most of his drama to just not be hockey/team related (other than trying to placate everyone now that there’s a clear divide) but let him deal with his daddy issues

i think russ would essentially be fine still playing for jv bc by this time he’s realized he doesn’t wanna go pro and has found something else to occupy his time. dwayne is just sad the team doesn’t get together a lot. the rest… idk. luis is too busy with mindy/being a perv and averman & goldberg are too busy being annoying and/or sabotaging the team i guess 💀

#the mighty ducks #this is long and rambly but ok!!!#thanks for the asks anons #also russ would 100% try to convince orion (who stays with jv for now) that he should be jv's captain (and he does become it hehe)

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pentechnics · 6 months ago

Note

For the ask game - K and M!

- @newpathwrites

K: do you have a guilty pleasure in fic (reading or writing)?

It's kinda hard for me to define guilty pleasure in fics lol -- I've trained myself to go into the experience with no shame! However, I will say that in writing fics I use way more adverbs and commas than anyone should. Because I wanna. And that one is surely a guilty pleasure 😂

M: What's the weirdest AU scenario you've ever come up with? Did it turn into a story?

Oh my GOSH lmao it's so weird

When I first began making AUs for Din in my head, before I'd even begun to write anything for an online audience, I came up with the funniest and most self-indulgent story called Higher Love. It was an AU where Karga owned a huge manufacturing plant on Nevarro and let Mando secretly repair the Crest in the back, and reader was the receptionist that slowly got him to talk to them. Eventually there was a dance competition involved. Of course Karga makes Din do it and reader's his assigned partner. Lots of work breaks spent in the super cool futuristic hangar with warping pipes, or dance rehearsals at reader's apartment that bled into dinner and they would eat in separate rooms while being on the comm. Moff Gideon finding out Grogu was hiding there too and CHAOS ensuing. DURING THE DANCE COMPETITION. It was wild.

None of it was ever written down, but I still remember all of it. I used to just play it through in my head and it's just so bonkers to me now.

However, elements of this tale live on in OLAT, Latch, and Corporal! And now that I think about it, I don't think any of them would exist without this initial idea/inspiration. So I owe my weird-ass brain a lot! 💖

#answered #thank you so much for asking!#i love questions like these #i'm so sorry it took me forever to get to this tho omg #ask game

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d3c0mp0siti0nn · 2 years ago

Text

First Draft/Central Idea

So originally this was just a little one shot thingy I wrote back in January on the 23rd but I ended up falling in love with the idea and it went from this to a huge writing project with 4 parts, and currently 15 chapters [I haven't made the outline for part 3 yet lol] it has two endings and a reversed ending. It's embarrassing that it's a self insert but oh well. Like I said, I wrote this back in January and it was just a little thing that I wasn't gonna post and it ended up turning into something so much bigger- it's more of a central idea and I had to change it a bit to make it line up with the current story so I'm sorry if it doesn't make any sense. Personally, I think it's bad. I think it's probably the worst and most embarrassing thing I've possibly ever written lol [Again, apologizing for the bad writing, I didn't expect to post this and thought it was just gonna sit in my Google docs forever but I edited it this morning and thought I would share it and see if ppl wanted to know more ab the story.] [[Sorry if it's out of character or anything I haven't actually *played* Ragnarök yet and am going off of videos and fanfics I've seen lmao]]

Word Count: 3,116

Miles doesn't really remember how he ended up in this sort of predicament. Where he currently was, he was laying down in his bed and next to him was a shirtless Heimdall with his back facing Miles.

It was…certainly odd. He hated Heimdall, he was the right hand man to Odin, who ruined his entire life and yet…he couldn't seem to actually spark any hatred for Heimdall no matter how hard he tried. He was still sorta in denial, but deep down Miles loved Heimdall's beautiful fluorescent purple eyes. He wanted to braid his hair and run his hands through it, they looked soft. He wanted to connect all his freckles with his fingers and name the ones that resembled constellations. He wanted to be there for him when he was having a bad day. There was so much Miles wanted to do with Heimdall, he wanted to show him gods can be kind.

Yet- Miles still really doesn't understand why he feels this way, or really how he ended up here. All Miles remembers is being in the tavern as drunken Thor talked about nothing important but Miles stayed feeling the tiniest sliver of pity for the man. Miles was only in Asgard because of Atreus, they had recently become close and this gave Miles a chance to search Asgard for something, anything to break the curse put on his family.

As Thor continued to go on and drown himself in mead, Miles’s eyes drifted around the room. They eventually fell upon Heimdall. He was sitting on a bench with a fur thing over it. He had a book in one hand and an apple in another. Miles turned his gaze back to Thor, thankfully he had passed out on the table. Miles got up, grabbed his cane and walked behind where Thor sat and gave him two harsh pats on the back. He made his way out of the tavern to go explore Asgard, it had been almost four hundred years since his last time there so there was bound to be new things. Even if Miles didn't wanna admit it, Asgard was sorta beautiful. It was weird because it felt so warm here, yet out in Midgard it was Fimbulwinter. It was obviously Odin's magic, but still.

As Miles walked around Asgard he just took it all in, the beauty of life, the way the breeze made the trees and grass dance– just everything. Miles came upon a towering, beautiful tree. It seemed familiar, like he has seen or heard about it before. Miles limped around the tree running his finger over it, observing it. Then he felt something rough under his fingers. It was a heart carved in the tree. As cute as that was it was kinda rude to the tree. Oh well. Inside the heart was "H+M"...ha that's a funny coincidence. Miles's eyes traveled down a little bit and they had more. "-Heimdall (for if he stumbles upon this he'll know it's me)"

Miles made a "hmm", "I wonder who *he* is?" Miles whispered to himself as he made his way around the tree. There were so many carvings, one said- "Am I stupid to like someone so below me?" Yup that was Heimdall alright. "Who could this possibly be about?" Miles wracked his brain for anyone who Heimdall might’ve taken an interest in and yet he came up with nothing. The carvings were very old, they must've been when he was pretty young. At the front of the tree there was a tiny piece of rolled up paper in a tiny little hole in one of the branches. Miles pulled it out and unrolled it, it read:

*"It seems as if things never change. It's been 384 years since I last saw or heard anything from or about him and yet I still feel myself drawn to come visit the tree. I have a feeling he might stumble into my hand soon. I wonder if he's seen this tree? It's all futile to l̶o̶v̶e̶ like such a pathetic god like him and yet I do. He's so below me and yet I feel a strong urge to see him. The one thing I hope is that he doesn't find this.*

*-Heimdall"*

Miles laughed a tiny bit at it. The thought of Heimdall being head over heels for someone was certainly amusing. Maybe Miles could use this against him the next time they had an argument. Miles plopped down at the front of the tree, it was a good sitting spot. Miles grabbed his book and started reading

About an hour later he heard footsteps coming behind the tree. He didn't really feel like looking so instead he just decided to let them find him. The footsteps were slow and gentle he heard a small little laugh to the right of him, where the heart and initials were. Huh, it was Heimdall. I don't think I've ever heard him laugh normally - Miles thought. Heimdall heard it and sorta stomped over to Miles. When he saw who it was he froze and his purple eyes went wide. "What are you doing here?" He spat out. Miles briefly looked up from his book. "Reading. Am I not allowed to read here? Is this your tree or something?" Heimdall looked to the tiny hole that had the note, it was still there and seemed untouched. Heimdall sighed in relief, though it came out more of a huff. Heimdall started to walk away when Miles, still looking at his book, said- "Who's M?"

Heimdall stopped in his tracks. "What." He said with a slight annoyance to his tone. "Who's the other person you carved your initials with?" Heimdall rolled his eyes and took a peek in Miles’s mind, he thought Miles was just playing dumb but he wasn't. He genuinely didn't know it was him, he had even read the note and yet still. He's so dumb - Heimdall thought. "That's none of your business." Heimdall said as he stood proud. "In your note you said you haven't heard from him in 384 years. You must've written that 11 years ago. Is this 'M' person dead or something?"

Heimdall rolled his eyes yet again. "No." Miles made an 'Ah' sound. "It's kinda funny thinking about you falling for someone." Miles said as he laughed a tiny bit while he flipped the page. "I mean the Heimdall falling for someone. It's fucking comical." A tiny part of Heimdall was a bit annoyed that he didn't realize it was him. Miles got up and put his book away and grabbed his cane which he had propped up on the tree. "I'll leave you alone now. Don't worry I won't tell anyone or anything. The fact that you have feelings is between me and you." Miles giggled a tiny bit before he limped off.

"Wait." Heimdall said. Miles turned around. "Did you say something?" - "Come back." Heimdall said a bit harshly. "Okay…" Miles walked back up to where Heimdall was. "What is it?" Miles said as he stood there, waiting for Heimdall to respond.

"It's you." He said blankly. Miles cocked his head to the side a bit. "What's me?" Heimdall groaned. "You're 'M'. The H and M in the heart stand for 'Heimdall and Miles'. I carved it when we were young. The other carvings I did 11 years ago." Miles laughed. "Ha. Yeah right. Funny joke, Heimdall." Miles looked in Heimdall's eyes as he laughed. Eventually Miles’s laughing faded. "Oh…you're– you're serious?" Miles nervously laughed. "I'm gonna go to uhm- to bed." Miles said as he limped away despite it being mid-day.

Once Miles made it back to his bed he threw off his shoes and immediately just fell on his bed. He laid on his back as he recalled what just happened. He wasn't quite sure how to feel. The right hand man to the man who stole everything from him had feelings for him…?

When Miles and Heimdall were 15, they were practically attached to the hip. Miles had heard of Heimdall, but he had just lost his family barely a year prior and he was vulnerable. Then Heimdall came along, and he was sweet and caring and it seemed like they were made for each other. Miles ended up foolishly falling in love with him. Somewhere deep down, Miles knew exactly who Heimdall was- but he was far too blinded to realize. Eventually, word got around to him and he was informed of who Heimdall was. It was terrible. He felt like such an idiot for not realizing sooner. None of it was real- what Miles felt for Heimdall was real but Heimdall's 'love' and 'affection' was all just a facade, something to pull in him closer and give him a false sense of security. So Miles, 16 and hurting, moved to Alfheim and told no one.

Miles had written something for Heimdall he was gonna send his way as a sort of explanation but he just never did. He was far too upset and didn't think Heimdall really *deserved* an explanation.

Miles flipped through all his memories with Heimdall from when they were young. They were nice. Miles never had the chance to make memories with someone close to him, given that as some cruel punishment Odin erased his family's memories of him all together. So with Heimdall he was able to make lasting memories with someone, ones that wouldn't be erased and thrown away as if they meant nothing.

He felt his eyes fill with tears just at the thought of his family. They were the only people to ever unconditionally support him and love him. He was called weak and useless and thrown away all the time simply because he couldn't do what the other gods did. He was cursed to live in the body of a woman with the soul and mind of a man and even though his family could never fully understand it they were there for him when it got hard and they helped him through it for 14 years. One day Miles got fed up with Odin's torture and went to see him. It ended in him going on an insane rampage, tearing down building after building, statues of the "great" Aseir gods, fighting Baldur, Thor, ect just quite literally tearing Asgard to shreds.

It's actually a surprise that Heimdall still felt the way he does after all that. Even after Miles tore down the place he loved so much and had such pride in, he still loved him. It was funny, really. The two of them were in a similar situation when it came to each other. They should hate one another but they couldn't bring themselves to even dislike them.

A light knock on his door made him shoot up. "Come in!" The door slowly opened, it was Heimdall. Miles laid back down. "Hi." Miles didn't know what else to say because he still wasn't quite sure how he felt. His brain, his mind knew that he was also in love with Heimdall but he just couldn't admit it. Heimdall sat at the edge of Miles’s bed. The both of them just sat there in silence, breathing in sync.

Miles eventually got the confidence to look at Heimdall. When he did his hair was all messy and his braids were kinda undone. He was sweating slightly. He must've been practicing sparring.

*I wanna braid his hair.*

Heimdall tensed up a bit and Miles could swear the tips of his ears were red. Heimdall scoffed and rolled his eyes. "Go ahead." Miles sat up and rose an eyebrow. "What?" Heimdall waved Miles off as he undid his hair. "Go ahead. Braid my hair. It's all you've been thinking all day." Miles looked at Heimdall with a quizzical look. "I never said- ooohhh." Miles inched closer to Heimdall. "Are you sure you're okay with a pathetic god like me who's so below you braiding your perfect hair?" Miles had a joking teasing tone that just had a huff from Heimdall in response.

Miles got behind Heimdall and grabbed a comb from his nightstand and gently ran it through his locks. It definitely wasn't Miles’s first time braiding his hair, infact they had braided each other's hair about a millions times when they were young. Although it was probably a lot harder for Heimdall to braid Miles’s hair on account of it being so long, but still, it was nice. That was one of his most precious memories Miles had. It was a good day, it was warm and had a light breeze. It was spring and the trees were so bright and vibrant. Miles and Heimdall had always met on a huge fallen tree in the middle of the Midgardian forest. The tree was covered in moss and Heimdall's hair always seemed to get messed up on his way climbing the tree, so Miles would always braid it. Miles had a tiny suspicion that Heimdall would mess up his hair before climbing up and just blame it on climbing to get Miles to braid his hair. Almost half a thousand years later, Miles still doesn't know the truth.

"Sorry if it doesn't come out very nice I'm a bit rusty, it's been a while." Heimdall didn't say anything as Miles started the first braid. Miles wasn’t sure if he was doing it on purpose or not but Heimdall was really leaning into Miles. Almost fully laying on him but sitting up just enough so it wouldn't make his hair look weird. "Hey Heimdall, can I ask you a question?" Heimdall hummed "When we were younger and we would meet on the tree, would you mess up your hair before climbing up so I could braid it."

Heimdall tensed up. "Why would I ever willingly mess up my hair just to get you to braid it? My hair always looked horrible after you braided it, I had to rebraid it everytime." Miles laughed. "You suck at lying." Heimdall just huffed as a response again.

A while passed and Miles was finally finished. "Okay, I'm done." No response. "Heimdall?" Miles looked down at him…he's asleep? When did he fall asleep? Sure he was quiet but he doesn't normally speak much when he's not gloating. He seemed to be sound asleep too. It had been so long since Miles saw his face so relaxed. Him and Miles used to lay down on the soft moss of the tree and just stare at the clouds. The few times Miles turned his head to look at Heimdall he always looked so peaceful in the blinding sun. His favorite times were when it got dark and cloud watching turned into star gazing. Even when Miles thought he couldn't get any prettier, the light from the moon made his face glow like bifrost. The moonlight highlighted all his best features, which was his whole face but still.

Miles watched with great interest at the mundane rise and fall of Heimdall's chest. His face was blank but it held so much emotion. He truly was the most alluring person he had ever seen. Maybe it's the nostalgia rush from pondering the past but Miles swore he felt 15 again. He felt as he did everytime he was just hanging around Midgard and Heimdall appeared to brighten his day. He felt as he did that one time when he opened the door to his little wooden cabin and saw a tiny box on his porch and once he opened it, it was an onyx stone bead bracelet with a silver square with the dagaz rune on it. He wasn't entirely sure what that feeling was but it was a weird one. It made him dizzy and euphoric, as if he was floating. It made him have a funny feeling in his chest and stomach. It was weird but not unwelcome.

"Your thoughts are so loud, do you know that?" Miles snapped out of his thinking and jumped a tiny bit. "Hmm- they are? Sorry." Miles played with Heimdall's braids a little. "I'm done braiding your hair, by the way." Heimdall got up and instead of leaving he took off his shoes and his shirt and plopped down in Miles’s bed. "What are you doing?" Miles said as he sat next to him. "Going to sleep." Miles laughed.

"Yeah I can see that, my question is why are you sleeping in *my* bed. You have your own bed." Heimdall didn't respond. Miles shrugged and laid down next to him and opted for staring at his back. Miles sheepishly reached his hand out to his back and started connecting his freckles. After a few minutes of lightly running his finger along Heimdall's back, he spoke. "What are you doing?" Miles continued to connect the freckles to one another. "Making constellations." Miles circled a few of his freckles. "These few look like Grus." He circled a few more. "And these here look sorta like Andromeda." He tapped a few more of them. "This one is Lacerta."

Heimdall just hummed. He had his back turned to Miles so it wasn't very clear if he was drifting to sleep or just didn't know what to say. Miles peeked over his shoulder to get a better look at his face. He was smiling, he tried to act as if he wasn't when Miles looked but he was. Miles turned back over on his back and yawned. After a few minutes he heard light snoring coming from Heimdall, it was cute. He tried to go to sleep but he couldn't, after longer than he'd like to admit of tossing and turning he just draped an arm over Heimdall's torso. He was a bit nervous because he wasn't quite sure how Heimdall would react, or if he'd even like it.

Heimdall grabbed Miles's arm and pulled him closer. That's how Heimdall always was though. He was never scared to speak his mind or anything he just believed in actions speaking louder than words. When they were younger, Heimdall always seemed to give Miles something as an apology rather than just saying sorry. Whether it was something as easy to find as some pretty flowers or something like a new knife made by Sindri, that was always his way of apologizing and showing he cared without having to say it.

It was going to take the two of them a while to get used to this, there was gonna be a lot to work out but it was worth it. Because in the end they had each other, and even since they were young that's all they ever needed.

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humanpurposes · 1 year ago

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Dear Gee! Director’s Cut for Karma is a God, pretty please😍👌🏻

This is going to end up as an entire essay and I'm not sorry.

Karma is a God came from me thirsting over Aemond really hard in Storm's End (see also, Sour Switchblade) and doing a cheeky self insert because I want him to look at me like that so bad. I literally remember the entire thought process because it was around Christmas last year, and I was like "I wanna write a Storm's End oneshot" and it was going to be what Sour Switchblade turned into, but then I had the idea of Lucerra surviving, and it all kind of spiraled from there. I started conceptualising and writing this fic when I first discovered Preacher's Daughter by Ethel Cain, and the whole thing is heavily inspired by the songs Ptolemea and Sun Bleached Flies (meaning I did a lot of daydreaming while listening to them).

Again, it was meant to be a oneshot, which is now going to end up being one of the last chapters, but then I decided I wanted to fill in the gaps of the events leading up to that. And here we are 13 chapters (+counting) later.

I love this fic for a lot of reasons.

It was my second ever attempt at posting fanfiction (abandoned my first fic and I feel like a bad parent for it) after struggling to write anything readable for years. Something about HotD just clicked for me and now I've written way more in the last year than I have in the last 5. I'm just really proud of how far I've come in rediscovering my love of writing with this fic.

Also, the relationship between Aemond and Lucerra. I know I'm insane for separating them for the last 8 chapters, but I'm so excited to get more into their dynamic. This whole fic is essentially about two people who feel bound to each other despite their circumstances and the pain they've inflicted on each other, because their pain has become so integral to who they are as people. It's also about the blurred lines of love and genuine connection and affection with obsession and codependency. And I will be romanticising every second of it!!! I love this line so much I think it really sums up what I'm trying to get across:

"Everything he is comes back to her, perhaps it is only right they should be each other’s demise."

I'm also a huge history nerd, so I'm loving getting into the politics and the drama of the war, which will come into play more after chapter 14.

Without wanting to sound overly dramatic or pretentious, I've kinda put my heart and soul into Karma is a God, it's definitely my favourite child.

Ask me for a director’s cut of my fics ✨

#inbox #moots #ask games #karma is a god

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stranger-chichka · 2 years ago

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I think the endgame of ST is that, Will should'n've ever left Mike's basement. That's a safe haven, that is why it is so important that they mention there's where they wanna stay. I'm just throwing ideas here, but i think Mike's basement is more important than his room... yet, at the beginning of s4, he is reading Eleven's letter in his room. Not in his safe place? Why is that? It's because the basement is Byler territory. Sure, El lived in the basement in s1, but she was there to help find Will. Another thing that comes to mind is the fact that Will's room in Lenora is kind of a basement but they are attacked there. Mike's basement is the safe place for Byler. With this i'd like to mention i tried to check whether there is a closet in Mike's basement.. i don't have a big enough screen, but if someone knows about this... because it there isn't any ... that would be huge.

Your ideas are GREAT, anon!!! <3 Mike's basement as a safe haven (that's the place where he took Will after his episode on Halloween and said they'll go crazy together) and Byler territory (the whole basement is covered in Will's art), I totally agree!

In s1 when Mike's already making plans for El to live with his family he first suggests her living in the basement, but then changes his mind:

"I was thinking, once all this is over and Will's back and you're not a secret anymore, my parents can get you an actual bed for the basement. Or you can take my room if you want, since I'm down there all the time anyways. My point is, they'll take care of you. They'll be like your new parents, and Nancy, she'll be like your new sister."

Another interesting fact I've already written about is that Mike is reading El's letter in front of the open closet where he made her hide in s1, while she was wearing the clothes he wore the night Will vanished. we even can notice a red vest inside Mike's closet in s4 that reminded me of the vest Will was wearing in s1. I think it should symbolise Mike being in the closet that night. Mike asked for more time so they could finish the campaign that took him to plan 2 weeks. Will wanted to finish it too. He didn't want to go.

We know that DnD represents their relationships. Mike needed more time to realise his feelings.

Will rolled a 7. What if it meant to symbolise he already realised his romantic feelings towards Mike and confessed. 7 looks like a capital L turned upside-down and let's remember that lowercase l is used in the song "The First I love You" played during El's/Steve's love confession to Mike/Robin -> Mike was standing in front of Will's open closet, with his eyes open while El's kissing him (not even kissing her back)/Robin came out to Steve. In s4 Robin emphasized that she and Steve are platonic friends ("platonic with a capital P"). The next time Will rolled a 14 (7+7) and that was a win.

I don't know if there's a closet in Mike's room, but we have this scene in s3:

And that's what happened right before:

Doesn't it remind you of the one infamous scene from s4?

They could hear everything. And El already kinda dumped Mike's ass again through the letter ("From, El"). So, can the scene with Mike opening the door to his basement/his safe haven/Byler territory for Nancy & Jonathan mean he gonna come out to them in s5?

#blyer #stranger things #stranger things theory #stranger things thoughts

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more-than-a-ghosti · 2 years ago

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My comfort characters?

One of my long time comfort characters was Juudai Yuuki from Yu-Gi-Oh GX, a trend that you'll ses with my comfort characters is that they're either A, super adorable, or B, a suffering wet cat in the rain. Juudai is an example of A, at least in season 1. He's also a comfort because, like a lot of other people, I can relate to him. I will always stand by the idea that GX is really just a coming of age story, and Juudai represents that well. I can make a whole essay about this boyo if I wanted.

One of my more significant (if that makes sense idk how else to describe it) comfort characters is Dimitri (fe3h). He's got the best of both worlds, imo. He's both adorable and a suffering wet cat in the rain, oh the duality of man. Can I just give him a hug? I wanna give him a hug. He was a surprisingly big influence on my writing. The way he was written (at least in azure moon i haven't played azure gleam yet and i refuse to be spoiled) like... that's how I wanna write a character. I also cried during his supports with Marianne, and it's definitely an achievement for a work of FICTION to make me cry.

I get a lot of comfort from the Kirby characters a lot. It's because they're just so freaking cute I can just turn my brain off and enjoy the spoingles :D If I could be in any fictional world I would definitely be in the Kirby world. Even when there is stressful world ending stuff, it's still super cute! Very stress free and I need to be stress free... 😅

I have more but I don't really have as much to say about them other than whether they're adorable (A), or a suffering wet cat in the rain (B), so I'll just give a list. Some of them are from fandoms that I'm no longer a part of, just a heads up!

Yuusei Fuudo (Yu-Gi-Oh 5DS) A but in a mature way if that makes sense

Kaiser Ryo (Yu-Gi-Oh GX) Sometimes I just find comfort in other people's suffering. (People being fictional characters,I'm not a sadist irl don't arrest me)

Ok this might sound really weird and you're probably gonna lose a lot of respect for me for this but Sans the Skeleton. He's the exception to the A or B rule. I really only find comfort because some (keyword SOME) fan art is just really, really pretty and calming to look at. Also he's chill.

ENA (ENA YouTube Series) A. I find them (I still don't know what gender they are) to be just really fun. They're world is definitely number 2 for which one I would be in. ENA's kind of an "unreality" thing for me. They're world is a form of escapism.

I just started watching The Owl House and I'm kinda obsessed with it lmao, and with this obsession came my newest comfort character that I think about too much to be healthy! 🥳 It's the mother fricking Golden Guard. He's both A and B, if you were wondering. I'm a little ashamed about it, and I don't really know why, but then again I feel shame for everything I've ever done soooooo

#ask game #long post #i hope you're satisfied with my answers #i oopsed all over this one

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mrfandomgage · 2 years ago

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So, way back when in 2015, Undertale came out, right? I was 13-14, but if I remember right, I was in Middle School, and one of my friends made an OC for it. I didn't know what it was so I asked about it, and I vaguely remembered Markiplier's first 2 episodes on it, before the fans harassed him into streaming the entire game. I wondered why Mark didn't play it, but I heard JackSepticEye played it, and because I was a kid without money, of course I watched him play it.

After watching Jack's playthrough, I fell in love, and basically watched everything I could about it. Learning all its lore, watching fan dubs of comics, wondering why Sr Pelo made that April Fools Genocide route (this is before I knew how Subtitles worked, and JFC when I learned that a lot of content creators were being harassed I got upset). I joined fan groups, joined Amino (hell hole), drew shitty art (I do leagues better than my old art, still shit tho), and because I loved AUs and lacked art skills, I started writing more often because of it. Hell, "Mr Fandom" was a name I made up because I was into Undertale, FNAF, My... that one I don't like talking about, but I wanted to express my interests in everything and embrace it. Gage Fandom as a name and character came later.

I have so many positive experiences with Undertale and its community, not to say it's all sunshine, but it definitely helped me out a bit. So why am I tired of it? Simple. I was obsessed with it since I was 13-14. A lot of my thoughts and ideas were about Undertale, I am 21 now and edging towards 22. I once was talking to my little sibling, and they called it a Hyper fixation, I found that wrong, because this wasn't a short term thing like those can be, I've been into this thing for nearly 9 years now. I'm just growing tired of thinking about it all the time. Don't get me wrong, if you wanna know anything about Undertale, one of the many games in my life that made me a furry, I can still recall most of it's lore, if something is only fanon or canon, if it's a myth, or even those messages Toby Fox made for when people inevitably shared them on the internet, good going Toby, you made a game interesting that the secrets that say people wouldn't be impressed with if they were put on the internet, people were legitimately impressed and made animations about that, good on.

I will tell you, Undertale is a fantastic game, it inspired me to write stories and even to an extent practice drawing (tho I definitely started drawing more when I got into HomeStuck around 2018, and I definitely started taking my own artwork a bit more seriously after accepting I'm a furry). I may have a hard time ever finishing a story I write, but I got into it because of Undertale and its writing.

Oh, and let's not forget Deltarune. I love it for some of the same reasons I do Undertale, Character writing is one of my favorite subjects (this is Kinda why I like Homestuck, a lot of characters are well written, even if also as much aren't, lol). Yes this is why most of my writings on this blog are of characters talking to each other, I'm primarily practicing Dialogue and trying to get to a point where it feels natural.

I love Undertale. I do not want to think about Undertale for a while.

#undertale #ramblings

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ayahachitwister · 1 year ago

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⭐ For the ask game because, of course, you wanna share something! <3

:D Aww, thank you! Since I have to write a battle right now (which is my least favorite thing to write), I figured I should talk about the one battle I actually enjoyed writing—the battle against the Hex Cait.

The Hex Cait battle ended up being three chapters (chapters 66-68 of the witch AU), which is by far the longest battle I’ve ever done. 😅 Usually I just want to get them over with. But that one in particular I had planned since the very beginning of the story. While I didn’t know what the Noise would be back when I got the idea for the story, I knew I wanted there to be a huge climax on fighting a powerful Noise, where Neku would go against Josh’s orders and come help Shiki and the others fight. …there was also supposed to be some more with the siblings there originally, but the stuff I would’ve included there got handled earlier in the story.

But anyway, with Neku’s entrance, it gave me a little bit of a break so it wasn’t just fighting for three full chapters—but had a moment in the middle where Neku and Shiki could just talk about everything. Where she could let down her walls and talk about her insecurities—everything she was scared to tell him up to this point… and then rendezvous with the siblings to finally beat the Noise.

But even with that part of the plan from the beginning, what really made this battle fun was figuring out how the Hex Cait works. I decided since it was a cat Noise to give it nine lives, each one getting increasingly harder. Plus I had other plot points I’d built up by this point—one of the most fun ones being how until this point, Neku refused to use his latent ability. Once the gloves were off and he was willing to help completely, though, I got to play with all sorts of amazing and fun combinations to really get my creativity going with this battle.

And then for another plot point, the negative side of Beat’s curse. I knew I wanted it to go into full effect after this battle, so… well, my evil author side got to peek out for that one. >.>’~~

…oh right, and then there was another plot point with Shiki that made the first chapter of the battle fun… but I actually still haven’t fully explained that one yet, so I’ll hold off on the commentary there. Plus another plot point with Josh I also still can’t talk about, but… >.>’~ His talk with Mr. H during that battle was also some nice foreshadowing to, well, stuff going on now~ So yeah, the repercussions of that battle have also lasted a while after it, which is another fun aspect to play with~ 💕

Anyway! The other thing with this battle is that I actually wrote it while traveling. I was… I forget if I was going to or from my parents’ place, but they live on the other side of the country. So every chance I got, whether it was at an airport or on the plane itself, I opened up my tablet and just wrote. I wrote almost all three chapters in just that day of travel alone, then told Kazea when I had internet again that she had a bunch to edit. :D’’ She was kinda flabbergasted I’d written so much XD’’

And then her edits… She had me add more to the little Neku and Shiki talking scene, but like… Then there was the edit about the final strike. I originally had Mr. Mew erasing the Noise with one final attack… but then Kazea put something about how like Shiki should do a little more. My brain was just like “how???”… so I thought about it…

…and well, I gave her probably one of my favorite moments in the story with how she ended up erasing it herself… I still want to see that drawn some day >.>’~ Not gonna say exactly what she did ‘cause of spoilers, but when Kazea came back and saw that, she was speechless, ‘cause apparently that wasn’t what she meant at all :D’’ But she loved it, and yeah~

#aya’s answers #the world ends with witches #twewy witch au #tweww spoilers #tweww #Thanks for the ask! :D

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makahimetenshi · 1 year ago

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Follow me inside the wastelands - Chapter 13 -Arthur Maxson x Female Sole Survivor Fanfic

This one will be a long fic with a lot of chapters, I already write the concepts. Since I don’t play as Nora in Fallout 4 because Nate for me is the real protagonist the personalities and ideas are pretty fanbased from another fanfics I read

If you are very very very delighted with one fic and want a continuation I didn’t write or post you can donate me at least $5 bucks, most of this fics have next chapters I don’t finish because lack of motivation but hey a $5 is a $5, I see a few reviews and coments that fics that are abandoned months laters receive coments of wanting to know what happends next. Here it is, I finished my handling with you all, enjoy the fic

By night Arthur came back and the first thing he did was surprise her with a chap kiss on the cheek, Nora looked at him confused but he had a very bright smile on his face.

-I prepared a feast for us tonight, when they knock at the door hide in my room until i tell u okay?

-Feast? what are we celebrating?

-Your plan is going smooth, i had the confirmation from Preston that the men arrived at place and the supplies are on their way -Nora smiled a bit and show him a sketch of how the fencing should go in the map around the beaches -did you go there?

-Not yet, tomorrow ill arrive for the first time

-Be careful to fight the mierluks during the day, if theres fog cancel the operation and try another day, remember that mierluk queens love fog to hide, use the day to settle in the buildings but do not start combat -he nodded and hug her from behind, looking at the letters written on a side of the table.

-Why you don't use holotapes?

-Im used to have my pipboy but not everybody has one, terminals are not always powered and i been told i have a very special calligraphy

-You are using something that’s called italics

-Correct

-Not many knows how to read that, but i must admit is like a signature writing of you right now

-Macready had his reasons to act like that, why do you wanna go down there?

-Don’t you believe me capable?

-I didnt say that, is just that you have the paladins to act on your orders

-Does Preston or this mercenary knows anything about us?

-Not exactly, i didnt explain much

-I believe that if you make me close to you in their eyes, they will trust me more -Nora turned her head to look at him, that was certainly unexpected.

-Do you want to have a relationship with the minutemen?

-We kinda often work together thanks to you

-I believe you can justify that they were people and citizens of the Commonwealth the Brotherhood of Steel was helping

-Yes but this level of organization is going beyond of simple farmers organized, your group grow up good and we are getting involved often

-And you want to be around?

-I can be, despite whenever i want to do it or not, if im needed ill be there, you in the middle or not -he didn't want to tell her the real reason, that he prefer to be there to not put her on risk because that will surely cause a fight.

-I trust you to come back sane and sound -she said and give him a chap kiss on the cheek, surprising him who hugged her stronger

If she cameback for him, he will do it too despite how dangerous the situation turned out tomorrow.

There was a knock on the door, and both separated, she went to the room and Arthur recieved the people who went inside to settle the dinner.

The only thing that Nora will eat as homemade food were soups, stating that the only way she can eat non radiated made in this century food was blinfolded, since everything looked awful and non desirable. Arthur hated that, he hated not being able to make her live more comfortable, it wasn't a good life not being able to eat

-You know i'm asking recipes to the scribes so i can give directions to the cookers right? you are making it very hard

-One time i ended up eating human meat -a cold shiver run through Arthur spine at hearing that -have you ever seen bacon before? well it looked like it, tasted good, crispy, no radiation, find out later that it was human, i didn't have the courage to eat anything again in that place, but did not have the forces to keep moving after not doing it for three days. Well at least i know iguanas existed back in my days

Arthur shut his damn mouth, if she find out about the geckos she would die of starvation...

-Do you dare to explain me why the mercenary had such...

-Weird attitudes? -he nodded, eating his bramin meat, cutting it into pieces- he is not really a minutemen, he is a mercenary hired by me, right now he is at Sanctuary with his son Duncan

-That doesnt say much

-I saved Duncan lifes by finding the cure to his mole rat disease, we wenttrought a lot to find that medicine and he bring up the kid here after he was cured and safe to travel -she take sip on her soup

-So he is in debt with you

-And hit on me once if you are actually asking that yes -the man pressed his lips and puush the attention away eating his steak- but i dodged it, i was into someone else by that time, a long way has passed since

Huh a hint of Noras love life, that was unexpected, but if she said that was a long time ago so he didn’t mind.

Her gaze turned dark and she sip onto her Nuka-Cola. She was into someonelse, almost two years ago, before destroying the institute.

And she was sleeping with his killer.

No, she was the killer, the one that execute him.

-Is something wrong? -Nora snapped at soon she was approatched, she shake her head and pick up the salt to use it over her food.

-No, i just chew something weird and was trying to figure out what it was

He knew she was lying, it was common for him finding her zooning out, she had a lot of demons inside.

-If you are giving him a house and food, he should be more respectful -he said drinking some Nuka-Cola too

-Leave him, he is almost as young as you are and have a thought life

-Thats not excuse

-He doesn't own me loyalty, he is a mercenary, ill respect that boundary, end of the story -and by finishing that conversation, she keep eating her soup

Altought Arthur understand that she wasn’t commanding soldiers with training and a mindset to fulfill orders, he was worried that her relationships were so...volatile. Still, great job organizing civilians at least, she standed up the most it was possible with revels and starving people and they achieved great things, recognized her strength and how ferocious she was.

After the dinner and plates were out, the man came into the room with...some expectations actually, and they were well readed, Nora flipped him onto the bed and she sat over his pants, unbuttoning the dress he had now forbidden to touch since the last time he went to exited break some buttons. It was a long way down and he cant keep his hands still on place, so they were moving all up on down over her ass, loving the shape and the feel under his fingers.

-Fuck me like there’s no tomorrow, general -gosh he wanted to say that all day, he wished to be ridded and commanded by this strong woman. He did it with her before, now it was his turn to summit.

She laughed and hummed, the buttons were all open but she still covered her chest closing it around

-There will be a tomorrow, but you gotta fight for the reward -out of nothing, she step onto her knees and moved foward, Arthurs heart stopped when she as bold as always sat her crotch over his chin, he saw her lick her lips and smile, still covering her chest, his arms and shoulders covered by the skirt of the dress- over heat and undress me, win the view, come on

He gasped and say nothing, just grabbed her ass to bring her closer and manage her weight on his face, starting to lick and suck over the warm pantys making her moan. It was going to be hard to not rip them off.

Arthur moaned when she grab him by the hair to move his head and command him over her pussy to move in whatever way she wished more.

The next day, Arthur leave for battle, and Nora felt absolutely horrible about it, she can't have any update, any notice, ask anybody, hack some terminal, check on some radio because she was imprisoned in...Arthurs quarters which didn’t have much. She wanted to cry, full of worries for his well being.

She get it, it wasn’t necessary to punish her like this, she get the feeling Arthur had when she leaved.

But at night the man came back, stepping in his power armor without his helmet, surprising her, well this was weird to see, he almost never used that thing and he smelled...fishing...

-Sentinel -he stated, making chills all over Nora skin, he knew he didn’t have to sentinel her for nothing that she will take it seriously- im taking a shower and then i want you undressed in bed, im being clear?

-Yes elder...-she said actually confused, the man came out from his power armor and smiled at her lightly before closing the door of the bathroom

Nora put on a bath and underwear at least, she was confused, stranged, she didnt need this mystery, but when he came out the door she ran to hug him. He was dressing light and comfy, and didn’t have any injuries at first sight, less if they were going to have sex tonight.

-Sentinel -he said again, making Nora chew her tongue, what the hell does he wanted? -i thought i ask you to wait in bed

-Are you alright? did everything went well? i was so worried...-his hands went to unbuckle the lace of the bath, making her cheeks red and taking out a gasp of surprise, she looked at his face and he was just smiling, chill, relaxed, holding his temple, one of her legs raised slightly but she didn't find a boner in his pants.

-I also told to wait for me undressed...-this was no time to play Nora wanted to know things and...

His hands went to cup his cheeks, taking her thoughts elsewhere clearing her mind in blank at making her stare into his blue eyes, then he slowly walked pushing her, making her walk backwards until her calves touch the edges of bed, he guided her body by the shoulders to sit on it, still holding their gazes. One of his hands went to her mouth, making his fingers play with her lips, hipnotized by how the flesh moved under his tips.

-Arthur how are you...-he shuuuuuuush her, thing that Nora didnt like at all and he noticed, laughing in the insides, but still went forward and move a finger inside her mouth, making her suck it at least the tip while their eyes were holding.

-Since i take the lead of the mission and succeeded- her ears open up but she was annoyed that hell make this report a sexual play -ill take the lead here too...

-Yes...elder -as soon she said that his finger went deeper in her mouth, only half way, and her tongue worked around it. Still, eyes locked with each other.

-You were right about the mireluk queens, the worst thing aren't her acid spit but that bitches puushes hard back, the only way to break her legs was throwing mines under her -Nora look around his body, but he didn't look hurted or anything

-Did the elder fight alone? -she mumbles and then he pushed his finger deeper, Nora could see the growing boner on his pants, this was really erotic for both, as confused and lost she was before now her panties were all wet.

-I didn’t say you could ask questions...Sentinel -he whisper as the other hand moved some locks of hair behind her ear, making a nice caress over her cheek, she started sucking on his finger and he hummed, like laughing- I was all about destroying the eggs but Preston interfere and said that we can cook with them, i didn’t know that, it has a lot of lipids inside, something you usually dont expect from a fish but there it is

-Did you install over the police station or...-a second finger went all the way down her mouth, surprising her.

-Oh my the sentinel is impatient to know the news...-he laughed a bit and grabbed the other side of her head with his fingers, using the short hairs as rides to move her head like he wanted, still, slowly to not hurt or scare her, by now Nora should understand his game.

-I just want to know if my dearest elder need some help or...-his fingers left her mouth and he moved her head harsh against his stomach, Nora almost automatically used her fingers to move down his pants and underwear, releasing his length, now it was just right there on her face.

-Your dearest elder...-he said using both hands to cup her head, fingers getting tangled between her black locks, caressing her ears and neck while she melted down on how nice it feeled to be managed like that- exploded and fill with bullets every motherfucker that came across his way

-Good to know...-a moan left her lips when he pushed her head back, she was before at a side of his cock and now she was in front of it, Arthur moved her carefully in circles, playing, making her wish and desire, scratching the back of her head making her purr and get lost on her thoughts again.

-Your elder claimed that land for you -at hearing that she look up surprised again, a hand left her ears and went to jack himself, making that gorgeous wet sounds that make Nora burn in the insides

God she didn’t know were to move, react, what to do with her damn life. She wanted to look or suck it but also wanted to pay attention to his words

-Is it done?

-Undress, Sentinel -as soon he said that, Nora take down the bath off her shoulders, of course she was wearing his favorite black lingerie- tomorrow we will shoot some other motherfuckers as we start fencing the place -one of his eyebrows reacted at the feeling of masturbating himself, making Nora aware of it nononoono she should be the one pleasuring the elder Maxson…

-Arthur i wanna blow you...-the way her eyes were filled with lust and admiration break him apart, he look at her body in black underwear, groaning at the view of the his perfect pre-war black widow fantasy wife

-I gave the orders today, and tomorrow, and ill give all the orders i need to also claim you -she nodded down her head, her breath was changing in rhythm and he could see it in the way her breast moved up and down- you are going to obey Sentinel

-Only to you elder- thats it, he cant hold it any longer, both hands pick up her head on the sides, filling between her legs with expectation

-Suck me -in the moment he said that his breath stopped for a second, but she didnt hesitate in use her hands to hold him and swallow him entirely in her mouth

He will claim her all it was needed to remind her she was the elders perfect woman, if it werent for the damn contraceptives he was sure that this two weeks alone in his quarters were more a mating season than imprisonment for bad behavior. A very primitive and crazy part of his brain wished everytime they were together for her to end up pregnant with his seed, a child, his Maxson heir, their baby.

He craved for it.

https://www.fanfiction.net/s/14242575/13/Follow-me-inside-the-wastelands

#fallout 4 #elder maxson #arthur maxson #sole survivor #makahimefanfic

0 notes

sleepy-aletheas · 6 months ago

Text

I will toss in my cent as somebody that consumed too many stories over their life and is obsessed of training their pattern recognition skill. If I go nowhere with this, please do tell, my brain is kinda dead from trying to figure out Clockie's story.

The short answer of why the story (and especially Aven and Ratio) is written like that is: That's the point. As unsatisfying as that is, the core of Penacony's storyline is lies. And we got to understand that a lot of players don't pay attention whatsoever, and the ones who do for a second can be divided into "Oh, I'm interested in these characters, so I will try to understand!" and "I don't care for these characters, I want to skip to the ones I like, so let me skim." And that's how we get misunderstandings and mischaracterizations in droves to begin with.

The whole plan had to be pre-planned and discussed way ahead of time, before they even got near Asdana. Since the memoria is all around Penacony, and when the Astral Express lands, we're already in a dream (story-wise at least), then Aven nor Ratio could freely speak about their plans on their way anymore even if they wanted to. It all had to be said and done, because anything they said could linger as a memory bubble, and a stupid coincidence ruining it all would be less than desired.

When we meet Robin again, at some point she says that she found secret letters from an IPC ambassador, and followed the clues inside to find out the truth behind dormancy in Penacony. So that pretty much confirms that they knew about it prior arrival. How? We don't know, probably will be told next patch, or it's such a blink and you'll miss it comment that no one can remember it.

Aven being stripped off his intelligence and street smarts is such a common character mischaracterization, I wanna ram my head through a brick wall. The moment a character is a little playful, emotionally aware (god forbid emotionally intelligent), snarky with a bit more flare and flamboyance, they lose any respect from people who don't pay attention, or think these traits are inherently less. It's genuinely painful to see, because we know he's brilliant.

In this, I don't blame the writer necessarily, cause it's the in-game characters and the players that underestimate him and see him as less. Be it in-game because he's an Avgin, a former (and honestly, present in everything but name) slave, and an IPC goon; or for players because he's just chalked up as an annoying pretty boy that gets insulted by characters, and people automatically assume that is the stance they naturally need to take (I'm not gonna say anything to that, cause oh boy).

If people took a step back, and realized how on the nose his whole charade was - be it the cocky appearances and throwing distrust into the mix at all points, which btw Welt pointed out and said something along the lines of "He doesn't seem to care for being an ally or an antagonist. He's pretty straightforward with him wanting something." - I'm confused how people could realize he was playing everyone only mid to late 2.1. On a personal note, I might just see a pattern in this, and didn't even think twice before calling bullshit right there in the first meeting. I digress.

With Ratio? Yeah, that is the writers fully leaning into people's misconception of his character, and honestly, any smart character that comes off as abrasive and arrogant. Again, brilliant in-game logic, frustrating irl experience because people took one look at him when he came around, and never looked back. That is again just a common mischaracterization of genius characters in general - they tend to be labeled as cruel, abusive, degrading, full of superiority complexes and snobbish; all that, just because they aren't smiling or overly friendly or mince their words and put cups of sugar on it, just so it's palatable (not like that ever stops people from still misconstruing it).

Him being seen as a neutral party, dangling "the enemy of my enemy is my friend" logistics is great. Because Sunday is desperate, he's so set on his plans and dreams, and there comes a scholar, a genius, a brilliant mind that doesn't care for others or their lesser whims. He is there for the cold hard facts, and if he can get rid of a colleague that not even their workplace feels is of more value than a disposable asset...of course Ratio needs to dial his snark up a bit. It's not like people will notice the lies or the on-the-nose remarks and info dumping, that would be an assumption of people paying attention!

Is the plan a bit too serendipitous of it falling into place perfectly in such a chaotic place? Absolutely. Then again it is a story, and that needs to cut some corners of realism, if not for the enjoyment factor, then time limit. Not everyone has the patience to sit through hours upon hours of characters talking in riddles and walking or sitting around, before something happens (I would love to have a supercut of Penacony in general, just give me 50 hours more hoyo, I'm begging you). It's a downside to games, especially ones that cannot drag out a patch too much. It would have been easier to make the plan better (or more clearer) in book form.

The Jade and Aventurine cornerstones being switched and never recognized as two separate gems is understandable even on a general level. Many people cannot recognize different gems apart as is, and the game goes out of its way to give the Aventurine stone a tiny bit of blue that helps differentiate it for us, but Sunday missing that is very possible, especially if he never saw them side by side and didn't bother to ask what each gem in the bag is (And also he was told by Ratio, whom he trusted, that the Stonehearts have a worse relationship than The Family members, and Sunday already sees that as a win, especially because we know more about him). It's simply a stretch however you wanna see it - if someone who doesn't recognize counterfeit stones from another, or if everyone somehow is supposed to just know, is kinda lazy.

Ratio opening the box is a flimsy excuse, but then again, no one really knows how the IPC works, at least not on the upper levels, like the Stonehearts, and by association, their mission partners. Again, it's kinda running on presumptions on how this works, when this is the first time we see such cooperation, and Sunday probably knows even less than us. I chalk it up as story deliberation to make the plot moving smoother.

There are more thoughts I have, but I can't put them into coherent sentences anymore. I hope whatever I put down makes even a lick of sense. It's definitely interesting to see why this doesn't work for others. Maybe it's because I played through 2.0 and 2.1 in one day, just inhaling the story, and have been rewatching people play it, and I'm crawling through Penacony to find any and every tidbit I can. Also it might be that I'm so used to different storytelling methods, and my own, that I just see the patterns miles away.

Can we talk about how viewing the 2.0 argument scene between Ratio and Aventurine completely assassinates Aventurine’s character?

Like I’ve talked at length about how it doesn’t make sense for Ratio in the slightest, and how the scene logically doesn’t make sense either in other posts, but oh my god does viewing this argument as genuine DESTROY the entire point of Aventurines character.

In doing so, you take one of the smartest members of the cast, one whose greatest assets are his planning, calculating, and his amazing people skills, and you turn him into a helpless dumb idiot who can truly only ever succeed due to his luck… WHEN THE ENTIRE POINT OF HIS CHARACTER IS THAT HE IS MORE THAN HIS LUCK

Aventurine clearly planned (with some improvising) what he was going to do whilst on Penacony, with the end goal of sneaking his Aventurine stone into the dreamscape and getting the Jade stone inside of Penacony. A key part of this plan was faking an argument between him and Dr. Ratio in order to make Sunday think that they were:

a) On really bad terms, with Ratio completely and utterly doubting Aventurine’s success, the two of them not communicating properly, and Ratio playing up the arrogant asshole scholar to the nines, which would make the ever paranoid Sunday confident he could get Ratio to “betray” him.

b) Feed core aspects of Aventurine’s past to Sunday so the man can use it against him in Aventurine’s trial, so again, Sunday buys the betrayal plan.

c) Make Sunday think the IPC are utterly incompetent by “losing” the cornerstones so he lets his guard down and again, buys the betrayal plan. This is also particularly important for the Jade stone as it allows her to do whatever she’s planning on doing in Penacony much easier, because Sunday doesn’t even know he’s involved.

d) The meta, for the audience reason aka this is the first snippets of Aventurine’s backstory we get, and it’s necessary we know something about him before we get 2.1 which is entirely centered on his past + lore. Hoyo needs to give the players something to chew on and build hype before then, so this argument is story-wise a really good way to do that.

Now, I’m going to list all of the examples I can think of to demonstrate how Aventurine’s incredibly well crafted plan becomes a clown fest and absolute plothole nightmare if you believe the 2.0 scene is genuine and everything Aventurine says and does there is real.

The arrangement of the cornerstones

In viewing this scene as genuine, Aventurine gets so ridiculously lucky (even for him) about how the cornerstones are arranged in his stuff that the family stole.

The scene goes from “ah yes, Aven planned to fool Sunday by putting the Jade stone in his bag and the Topaz stone in the box where his cornerstone should be, making Sunday believe he was trying to trick him with the Topaz stone being in the cornerstone box. While the “Aventurine” stone (it’s Jade) is in his bag, which Aven tries to pass off as being worthless, making Sunday think he fooled Aventurine. When in reality, Aven still has his own cornerstone he sneaks into the dreamscape, albeit broken at the bottom of the bag which he takes back after the ‘betrayal’”

And that amazing plan and demonstration of intelligence, ingenuity and sheer bravery will now get completly shoved aside when you misinterpret the 2.0 scene as genuine. This now becomes ->

Aventurine really is a fucking idiot who ruined everything and lost the cornerstones, for some reason the Topaz stone is in the box for the Aventurine one, Jades is in his bag for shits and giggle, definitely didn’t plan on sneaking that in further than her, and he broke and shoved the Aventurine stone in the bottom of the bag even though it should be in the Aventurine box because he felt it needs decorating or something.

SIDE NOTE: Aventurine saying “cornerstones” in the 2.0 scene is what clues Sunday into trying to get Ratio to reveal the location of the second one, because logically the only cornerstone Aventurine would have possession of is his own. Ratio also not being surprised of this means he’s aware Aventurine brought multiple cornerstones to Penacony, therefore he was in on the plan from the start because if he wasn’t, then Aventurine having more than just his cornerstone would surprise him. Moreover, Sunday would realistically be like “hmmm what do you mean CORNERSTONES” and go from there.

It takes this brilliant plan and turns it into, “oopsies!1! Guess I got lucky this time again!1! That’s all I’m good for1!!! Don’t worry about how fucking random everything is and how it all magically and perfectly worked out in my favor1!!1” And like, just, god why, y’all cannot be serious. Then again people who think this haven’t at all bothered to think through the consequences of thinking this, so I’m not surprised they haven’t realized how stupid it all sounds when you take the time to spell it out.

Oh don’t worry, there’s more.

The Jade stone

Aven planning the Jade stone to be used as a dupe from the start now becomes, “wow! I’m so lucky these stones can easily passed as one another and that the Jade stone is in the right position for Sunday to buy it as Aventurine! I’m also glad that we somehow formed this portion of the plan after the Jade stone was already out of our possession! And that it magically was at the top of the bag right where Sunday would see it and buy its Aventurine!! So we can’t even double check if it’s believable!! I’m so lucky and everything works out for me!!” Like…. IX there’s a new void in town with the amount of gaping holes there are in this logic.

Ratio opening the Cornerstone box

If you understand this scene is acting, then Aventurine planned for Ratio to be able to open the box from the start, for one of two reasons.

a) He really did have access that kind of information which Aventurine could use in his plans, and Aven sought him out for this reason.

(the more likely of the two imo because why would Ratio have access to it?)

b) He taught the doctor beforehand on how and when to do it, either way, it was something Aventurine wanted to happen.

But misunderstanding this situation and thinking Ratio wasn’t let in on Aventurine’s plan leads to this mess:

a) Ratio did indeed have access to opening Cornerstone boxes pre-Penacony, and Aventurine is lucky that this somehow worked out for him perfectly, and that Ratio didn’t ask for you know, the cornerstones back himself prior to them getting confiscated. Also if Aventurine did form the plan pre-Penacony, he for some reason didn’t let ratio know this would be needed?

b) He didn’t know how to open it, so Aventurine managed to find the time between 2.0 and their conversation in 2.1 with Sunday to teach him despite not having the Cornerstone Box in his possession, and he also managed to convince Ratio of this whole betrayal plan DURING Penacony and have the man who supposedly went from hating him 5 seconds go to being completely on his side and willing to execute every part of Aventurine’s plan correctly down to the last minute detail and we see none of this change of art at all ever. Also tack the last part of this onto the rest of a because the complete 180 in attitude Ratio has to do in order to have the 2.0 scene not be acting is nuts.

And the last major reason I’ll bring up for now (sparing you the ratio character analysis be grateful) for why this makes no goddamn sense:

Time

Ok, so let’s humor the stupidity and pretend like the 2.0 argument scene was genuine on both ends. This means that Aventurine somehow finds the time to do all this shit

a) convince Ratio that no not everything’s wrong he’s cooking dw guys this will all work out, put your faith in me

b) despite not having the cornerstones or his gift bag he magically forms an idea of how to fool Sunday with the way he remembers them being placed and he also manages to convince Ratio to go along with this

c) Ratio finds time to meet with Sunday 7 hours before they meet with Sunday together to enact his part of the “betrayal” meaning Aventurine had to convince Ratio of their plan 7+ hours before their first scene together in 2.0

d) Ratio has to get back from telling the IPC Aven fucked up and lost the Cornerstones, which somehow has no other consequences for Aventurine

e) RATIO FIGURES OUT DORMANCY???

AND SOMEHOW, this all has to happen alongside the events of 2.0 and 2.1 we do actually see, because oh wait none of this fucking happens at all ever. We don’t see it. we don’t hear of it, and none of it doesn’t get implied to have happened ever because guess what it doesn’t fucking happen, and even in the land of the dreams this level of time fuckery can’t happen.

And if by some fucking miracle it did, that is horrific writing on hoyos part by not implying it even slightly and in fact implying the opposite because Ratio outright says he did everything according to Aventurines plan in their next meeting

Now you can see clearly why having both of them being sincere in this conversation requires the most bullshit logic known to mankind, however some objectors might say that Ratio still could have been sincere in this to which I say no, for several reasons.

In what fucking dimension is Dr. Veritas Ratio agreeing to go on a suicide mission without a plan or any semblance of an idea of what Aventurine is going to do there? That man would sooner join the Genius Society than agree to that, we know good he is at planning and acting based on 1.6, do you seriously think he’s gonna go from that to “fuck it we ball in Penacony”

He clearly knew Aventurine prior. They have established nicknames for one another (Doc and Gambler), banter that only really functions if you have known someone for awhile, Aventurine seeing through Ratio (demo where Aven predicts how Ratio will react to what he says about him) and Ratio seeing through Aventurine (vial/note he gave to him, and Ratio knows the one person who can stop Aven is himself) you know, something people who just met don’t really have. Did they also do team building exercises in that minuscule time frame or something? How did we go from “fucking kill yourself” to “me and the bestie”

The Final Victor lightcone

This is an extension of the last point about them knowing one another prior, as although the implications of 2 are nice, this outright proves it. Canonically, lightcones are condensed memories (aka stuff that has happened in the past) and we unlock the Final Victor lightcone in the MOC shop at the very start of 2.0. This means that the events of the Final Victory lc have to happen prior to 2.0, because they are well, memories. Moreover, the description of the lightcone depicts Aventurine trying to convince Ratio of a plan/cooperation of some sort. Hmmm, wonder what that is, any guesses?

If that argument scene is genuine on Ratios end holy fucking shit please fire the writer who made it because that is the most OOC behavior from him ever. Veritas Ratio, judging and looking down upon a person for their education background/background in general. You know, the guy who defined by wanting to spread knowledge throughout the universe because he cares about other people and wants to help them become their best selves, as Ratio believes no matter who you are you are capable of intelligence and creativity.

This guy judges people based on their background? This guy who tweaked the fuck out in 1.6 over the prospects of the fate of misfortunate people is judging people for being misfortune??!?

This guy who believes that no matter how many fuck ups a person makes, their life is worth living, is now completely willing to abandon Aventurine at a moments notices and give up on him, which the one thing he will not do?!?

The guy who urges his students to question everything, has forged his own path in life and is distinctly described as not being like other scholars now is buying hook like and sinker IPC propaganda about Sigonians? He’s suddenly being as much of a dick to him as the rest of the universe?!

Also, he clearly does feel bad about he says, because Ratio breaks character and apologizes. It’s brief, likely because a heartfelt one would undermine their plan, but it does give an idea of how Ratio is really feeling, because he is extremely convicted and genuinely believes the stuff he says, so he’s not gonna give retractions on how he feels unless that’s not how he actually feels.

Sidenote: When people say “but Ratio called Aventurine a slur,” they aren’t entirely wrong but neither are they right. You see, the slur in question is actually the name of Aventurine’s planet, Sigonia. It’s just in the CN version, the name is slightly different and is clearly derived from a slur used against Romani people in Eastern Europe. There’s no doubt about this either they are basically the same word and honestly knowing this makes me extremely uncomfortable typing out the name of Aventurine’s planet, so I’m just gonna call it S from now on. I don’t think it’s really fair to Ratio to say he was calling Aventurine slurs, when it’s not the characters fault the planet Aventurine is from just IS one, which is what he was trying to refer to in the first place. That’s why people who saw the scene in the EN dub didn’t pick up on it at all, because the slur in question looks way different in English (starts with a g ends with a y if you need a hint). Since you are wondering, no, this doesn’t completely absolve Sparkle since she was still using racist stereotypes against Aventurine, although she didn’t necessarily call him a slur like people were saying. Side note over

Pair this with the aforementioned 180 in personality Ratio would have to have, that horrendous ass planet name and the time bullshit and you get quite possibly some of the worst writing ever, oh my god kill it with fire

Genuinely, GENUINELY if you think this through and are like “yup that makes sense!” there’s absolutely no hope for you. I understand that most people don’t think this through, but still, god how stupid this misconception seems when you lay it all out is baffling.

Oh, and for the one objector still remaining who is like, “but there is no evidence for Sunday watching them:

a) There is a Bloodhound statue in trailblazers room, used by the Bloodhound family to monitor rooms as part of security, Sunday as head of the Family has total access to security. Keep in mind that Trailblazers room was actually Aventurine’s, meaning Sunday was planning on monitoring him prior to the room switch, which I doubt he would give up because of it (honestly the room switch would make Sunday more suspicious).

Conveniently, throughout the 2.0 conversation the left side of the room is cropped off, and we get the barest of sight on it, which reveals where there would be a bloodhound statue had their rooms been the same is a clock/time dial cat thing.

Whose eyes are conveniently watching both of them talking.

Here’s the full frame by the way

Considering bloodhound statues can disappear and there’s plenty of things in the dreamscape that can shapeshift (although this convo is outside the sweet dream), it’s not insane for me to suggest that Sunday was likely watching them through this weird clock/phone thing is it?

b) We know the dream pools get monitored as well, at least for people’s vitals and stuff, something which the Trailblazers learn after trying to find Firefly’s whereabouts. Considering the person we talked to was just the desk receptionist, it’s not insane to assume that the dream pools monitor other stuff as well

c) The TVs behind the pools. Sure they display things, but those ARE electronics and they can easily receive as well as they send out things.

The point is, if Sunday wanted to watch their conversation, he absolutely had the means to do so, and trust me, he did infact watch it for several reasons.

“I heard you and your companion weren’t getting along very well” Sunday says this to Ratio in their meeting seven hours prior to when him and Aventurine go to meet Sunday. So far, their only interaction in Penacony had been that conversation, and as far as we know, Aventurine truly did check in when the astral express did. Therefore, how would Sunday know they hadn’t been getting along if it had only been such a short amount of time. Surely he wasn’t watching their one conversation in 2.0? No, he just summoned that information from the voices in his head silly!

Aventurines past. Awfully convient Sunday just happens to know that Aventurine is an Avgin, that he has a complicated relationship with his family and that he might want to destroy the world for several reasons. Wonder where he got those ideas from, must have read Aventurine’s wiki page I guess.

Sentencing Aventurine to death, which only makes sense Sunday would have the confidence to do this if he, idk, knew Aven already had an ongoing death sentence. Something which is not true, Ratio was lying when he said that without his Cornerstone Aventurine would be doomed to death, as although it’s not technically a lie, Aven’s sentence was absolved years ago, and Ratio implies it’s ongoing when it isn’t. Remember, if Aventurine is killed by Sunday, that’s massive leverage for the IPC, but if Ratio lies about Aventurine being less valuable to them, then Sunday gains the confidence to get Aventurine out of his way. After all, he doesn’t have the cornerstones anymore, so is functionally useless to them, at least in Sundays eyes.

Actually trusting Ratio. Had Sunday not witnessed their argument, it would be very hard for him to believe that Ratio would betray Aventurine, since if he wasn’t watching, he wouldn’t think things weren’t going smoothly on the IPCs end. However, Ratio berating Aventurine for his supposed failure and behaving like a completely arrogant scholar, and being entirely unwilling to give the other man a chance would naturally make Sunday start rubbing his hands together planning to get this piece of shit to backstab his colleague.

Really just an addition to point #4, but Ratio implies that he has absolutely no fucking clue what Aventurine has been doing on Penacony since the gambler won’t cooperate with the him, however, he does not seem surprised by Aventurine’s failure. Therefore, when the betrayal plan comes into action, Sunday buys that Ratio doesn’t know Aventurine’s plan, but he does know how Aventurine thinks, which lets Ratio manipulate him into buying it.

There’s more, but like, you get the idea, Aventurine clearly planned this all out from the start. And that’s why it pisses me off, because Aventurine is smart, Aventurine is SO SMART, but people refuse to think and shove that aside because they refused to put the 2.0 scene in the context of the rest of Penacony.

It’s meant to seem genuine the first time around (even if past me literally concluded Ratio was being used as a plot device dude to how OOC he was being), however considering Aventurine’s whole plan hinged on a betrayal, you now as the audience have to go back and reevaluate every scene he’s in, including that one.

I don’t blame people for finding the 2.0 scene uncomfortable or for disliking Ratio for it, however I believe it should be put into the context of the rest of the game, and understood for what it really is, rather than how people feel about it.

Because in doing so, in attempting to shelter Aventurine fans from the evil, racist Dr Ratio and Aventio fans. People who supposedly make Aventurine into some spineless, idiot twink who can’t do anything on his own, and is nothing more than his luck, You End Up Doing The Exact Same Thing To Aventurine.

In being blinded by bias, a brilliant demonstration of Aventurine’s intellect and competence gets erased, which is just really, really disappointing.

Aventurine is so much more than his luck, and I wish people would actually internalize that, rather than just saying it.

Anyways, I hope you enjoyed reading this, as I have talked extensively on how this misconception fucks up Ratios character, so I deemed it finally time to dive into it screws with Aventurine. Any and all thoughts are appreciated, and if you disagree feel free to share why, I just will only respond to actual reasons. A “nuh uh” is not worth my time or yours

#hsr #i was playing through the clockie event to unlock the other endings so i'm sorry if i make no sense anymore #but it is something i will reread later to get a better grasp. at least once my migraine subsides enough

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moongumi · 2 years ago

Text

behave²

pairing: gojo satoru x reader (ft. kento)

⟶ cw. whiny subby satoru, MINORS DNI, fwb, unprotected sex, powerplay, player-reader, lots of quickies, edging, denial, oral (m) + more

sypnosis: sequel to just so close. you and satoru struggle with the boundaries of your fwb relationship, feelings develop and people get hurt.

⟶ wc. 2.2k

a/n: hi hi, this was written v like indulgently and IDK i kinda like plus it was getting long but defo will make another part mayyybee about nanami <3

just so close // behave

“You better behave.”

The white-haired boy had an easily readable expression on his face, frustration yet he couldn’t do anything about it. Gojo Satoru sits at his desk with his hands behind him–glaring right at you.

“You look mad,” You teased, reaching to pinch his cheeks, “That’s not a very good boy.”

He sneers, pulling away from you with a frown on his face―his pretty pink lips pouted as much as possible.

You sat on his desk, legs crossed with your left foot nudging his chest in front of you, “Look, if you don’t wanna do this it’s fine―”

“No,” He immediately interjects, “I want it, I’m just mad about it.”

You smirk. Satoru’s ego and reputation make it hard for him to allow himself to submit in such a way yet deep down, his gut loves this―all of it but it doesn’t stop him from being embarrassed.

You pout, mimicking him, “Don’t pretend you hate it, if you behave I’ll give you what you want.”

“Fuck, please.”

Only a couple of weeks had passed and well Satoru’s been slowly opening up to you more and more about his kinks and needs―he wanted to keep things quiet still which you didn’t mind, after all, if your friends knew that’s going to make a whole big mess and underclassmen might as well start burying you. Satoru had too many fangirls.

He’s struggling to resist, his eyes burning with desire and lust as all he could do was what you told him. Your back arches, ass flat against his desktop―completely bare under your school skirt that Satoru had too much of a habit of exploring under.

Your legs parted, heels planted on the table giving him a perfect view of your soaking cunt-the soaking cunt that his mouth was watering at.

“You’re cruel.”

You scoff, running your fingers down your uniform top, unbuttoning the buttons popping the top open to reveal your cute bra and plump chest. Tickling down your waist, fingertips peppering gentle touches before going under your skirt and teasing yourself as your eyes attached to his, “You’re one to talk, this is the only place I have any power over the great Gojo Satoru.”

In every other situation, Satoru was the extremely powerful and reputable sorcerer in training waiting for his time to be the most powerful person on the planet. Now more than ever he was getting so much better at his infinity and six eyes that no one had any way of competing with him, that is apart from you-with your power over him in bed.

“Fuck, am I really not allowed to touch you?” He’s whiny, his pretty pale lashes batting as if it was going to help him at all, but you weren’t easy to crack. You cock your head, pretending to think about it. You were playing this game with him today only because he came inside you yesterday even though he wasn’t supposed to, it was a part of your little friends with benefits rule-he made up the damn rule yet you knew him to love coming inside, he just couldn’t help himself. You weren’t going to admit to him that you like the feeling of his creamy cum inside of you, warm and dripping down your cunt―you loved when he’d pry your whole open after abusing it to make more leak out. Still, a rule is a rule and you love bringing it up to your advantage.

Satoru would never admit to being a sub, he was more of a switch―a relationship with two switches tends to be a huge act of powerplay, a competition, and at any opportunity that one saw fit it’s easy to use that to make the other one the bottom for the day.

You stick out your tongue, “Nope.”

Fingers deep inside yourself you explored your cavities and ridges skillfully, Satoru was still learning about what makes you shake in such a way. His lips tight between his teeth, blood nearly drawing from how hard he was biting down-his cock pulses and twitches in his pants–he wishes he could touch it, touch you but he couldn’t break the rules, not especially if he did he’d lose raw-dogging rights.

You whimper with your lips parted, throwing your head back as those fingers curled at the right spot. You pull them out, soaked with your arousal, and roll your fingers around your clit, nearing your climax. Eyes nearly rolling to the back of your head you see the reddened cheeks on Satoru’s face and engrossed look, his lips drop and his mind runs-before you came you stopped yourself only edging and making yourself more sensitive.

Snapping your fingers in his face, Satoru finally breaks out of his haze and takes a huge gulp, swallowing up all the drool that threatens to escape his mouth.

“You’re a bitch,” He groans, rolling his eyes annoyed that you didn’t cum in front of him, he loves the way you sound when you cum. His biceps tighten visibly with his hands holding onto his chair brutally.

You purse your lips, wetting them slightly. Dropping your legs, your pussy makes a wet noise against his table as you lean towards him―your wet fingers covered in milky cream near his lips, he parts them easily getting the memo.

He sticks his wet tongue out, the heat of it immediately engulfing your wet fingers. He sucks your fingers into his warm coated mouth, suckling on it-eating you up. Your eyes are heavy-lidded, filled with lust watching such a pretty fucking guy completely clean your fingers of your pussy juices.

“Do you like me, Satoru?”

Your voice sends chills down his spine, he loved the way his name slithered past your painted lips yet he didn’t really understand where you were going with this. “Of course, I wouldn’t be fucking you every day otherwise.”

“No, ‘Toru,” You pop your lips, running them down the side of his cheeks, “Do you like me?”

He gulps, his eyes unable to look dead at you, conflicted yet, there is an answer inside of him that slips out, “Yes.”

“Good,” Your fingers running down his hard chest, going under his shirt, “You’re mine, right?”

He sucks in a breath, his body heating up, “Of course.”

“Say it, Satoru.”

His cheeks are berry pink, he’s beyond shamed, you were making him admit all these things that he’d never say to anyone else, fuck, what are you doing to him?

You’re so damn hot, he loved when you told him what to do-he loved when you bitched and fight with him because he knew you guys would have some rough sex after. He loved putting you in your place after having a bratty attitude. He’s never been in love and doesn’t know what it means but this was the closest he’s felt to it and it made him feel so goddamn weak.

“I’m all yours, I’m all fucking yours, y/n.”

☆.・゜゜・*. * ·✧*. * ·★.・゜゜・✰

He’s loud and uncontrollable, many guys are quiet during sex but not Satoru, god, he was loud and vocal. He knows what he wants, and isn’t afraid to beg for it when he’s desperate.

“Y/n, please. You’re torturing me,” He cries, his hands tightened on your skirt-covered hips practically bruising them with his large hands.

He’s talking about how you were clenching around his length, the cock that is buried deep inside you. “Stop complaining, ‘Toru.”

He scoffs, one of his hands leaving your hips to grip the side of his bedsheets burying you in his bed as his other hand grabs onto your throat. He grunts, feeling how warm and wet you were getting around his raw dick. Satoru wanted to cum already so bad, but he wasn’t going to let you win, no, he had to get back at you too.

“Now, you’re in my room, you’re under me and you’ll be fucked completely undone by me,” He moans, pushing his lips into your own, “I’m gonna fucking fill you up, I’ve been saving it up all day just for you.”

You moan against his plush lips, moulding tightly into his mouth. Your tongues swirled together, feeling the soft muscle against your own. He rolls his hips, slapping them against the underside of your thighs.

He switches angles, lifting his body from yours and yanking your hips up–slipping a loose pillow underneath to angle you more. He flips your skirt over, watching slowly as his cock slides in and out of you–tangling your arousals together, your cunt swallowing him like soft pillowy lips caressing.

“I’m gonna fucking cum,” He whimpers, unable to control himself, “Fuck.”

☆.・゜゜・*. * ·✧*. * ·★.・゜゜・✰

You’ve got him pressed against the worn tatami floor, his hair is sprawled against the straw. His eyes watched you intensely, darkened with lust.

Rolling your hips into him, he moans loudly feeling the way you’re riding him so perfectly. His cock fits perfectly inside of you, curling towards your weakest spot every time you manoeuvre.

He’s got his hands bound over his head, he whined about it a lot but didn’t seem to complain when you swallowed up his cock inside of you–drenching him. He’s only got his trousers down and the bottom half of his top raised, seeing the soft and ripped body of his where your hands rested using them as leverage–his abs would flex under your palms.

Dark uniform covered the rest as well as your own, always riding or getting fucked with your skirt on–Satoru believes he’s probably developed a kink for it.

“Are you sure they’re out in town?”

Satoru hands fist up in his restraints, he nods quickly–drunk with pleasure, “Yea, fuck, I’m sure I saw them leave and the other years are training in the field so, holy fuck, we’re fine.”

He practically drools when you bounce up and down on the thick hot length. Your clit tingles over his short pubes, breathing heavily as you try to reach your high.

“Take those off, quick I need something–”

He knows what that means, using his abilities to burn off his restraints and his fingers flash towards your clit as he worked his magic. “Fuck, are you gonna cum? All over me right?”

“Satoru, more.”

He flips you over without a second thought, throwing you down on your fours. He rubs the head of his cock all over your pussy, allowing you to let out the most-lewd moan. He grabs a fistful of your plump ass, red from all the friction. The bulb of his cock teases your entrance, raw and red, he pushes slowly–wanting to feel each inch enter, slowly and slowly.

You whined loudly, head down into the tatami. Your palm smacks the side of his leg, making him click his tongue, “Fuck, let me play with you.”

“Satoru, I’m not gonna ask again.”

He grunts, “Fine, next time I top.”

His length penetrates you, dragging against your mounds. The ridges of your pussy rolling into him, cunt clenching tightly as pleasure rushes into the pits of your guts.

“Fuck, yea. God, that feels so good.”

Satoru moans back, his voice so pretty, “Yea, you feel so good. All wet and warm for me.”

It only takes him so long, only for so long could he resist not completely being balls deep inside his favourite girl. He loved this position and it was rare you let him take you like this, your ass was his favourite toy.

He toys with his other hole with his thumb, rubbing all the cream he gathered all over it before pushing slightly, “God, I want–I want to destroy all of you.”

“I’ll let you– ‘Toru, you behave and I’ll let you fucking destroy me.” You slobbered with lust, did you drool all over the floor?

His girth stretches you fully, and your cunt pulses around him, “You’re close, huh?”

“Yes, fuck, I’m about to–”

☆.・゜゜・*. * ·✧*. * ·★.・゜゜・✰

Satoru: you mad at me or something?

Satoru: dont u dare ghost me

You weren’t ghosting him. You only saw the screen of your phone lighting up from the corner of your eyes. You groaned, mouth full of cock.

Kento Nanami’s cock, an underclassman.

“Maybe, oh shit, you should answer that?”

You pulled away with a pop, your wrist working its magic on his length–dragging and pulling when you reply, “No, don’t worry about it.”

“It’s Satoru, he seems mad. He’s blowing your phone up.”

You rolled your eyes, knees on the floor lifted yourself up towards his body, and sat on his bed. Your lips reach his, ghosting against it, “Hm, so what?”

“So what–Oh, that feels really good.” Kento can’t help it, he can't even focus, so cute.

You smile, pleased with your wrist work, “Yea, so you want me to stop so I can answer or–”

“No please, don’t stop.”

You hummed pleased, “I wasn’t planning on stopping, cutie.”

Pushing him back down, his back hitting the soft blankets of his dorm room bed. You’re pulling off your clothes, your skirt drops to the floor, and your shirt was thrown over your head–Kento’s eyes feast on the plumpness on your chest and the small fabric covering your pussy, all for him to see.

You’re on your knees, hair down crawling over his body ready to devour him, “You’re so cute, Nanami.” Kissing his lips softly.

His cheeks are red, “Please, call me Kento.”

“Kento,” You purr, opening up your lips and attaching them to his–drinking him in. His soft lips move against yours as the smallest little grovel gathers in his throat.

On the floor was the phone, with a short message you had sent to Satoru as a response.

You: : )

Satoru was definitely not pleased. God, he was fuming.

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ───

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#jjk smut #jjk fanfiction #jjk x reader #jjk x you #gojo satoru #gojo satoru x reader #gojo satoru x you #gojo satoru smut #kento nanami #kento nanami smut #kento nanami x reader #kento nanami x you

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purple-babygirl · 3 years ago

Note

request if open; daddy!bucky had a bad day and little!reader is just trying to comfort him but he accidently lashes out and yells at her/pushes her and immediately feels guilty but she regresses even more into her little space and is scared of him, you can kinda play around w this and figure out how it ends! xx

Pairing: Mafia!Daddy!Bucky Barnes x f!little!reader

Word Count: 3,423 (you know you love me)

Warnings: ddlg dynamics, yelling, harsh treatment, crying, angst turned fluff?

A/N: thank you so much for sending this in, nonnie. i took your request and ran with it to angst land. Hope you enjoy xx💜

~~~~~

signature needed

“Dada,”

She could see Bucky’s frown, the lines on his forehead wrinkling his handsome face up. She knew it meant he was upset and she never wanted Daddy to be upset. She knew he never left her upset.

Bucky’s been looking like that since he walked through the mansion door that morning, barely acknowledging her when she greeted him. He almost forgot to give her her welcome-home kiss even.

“Not now, angel,” Bucky murmured, proceeding to flip through the papers covering his desk, huffing and puffing every now and then at the mess he was stuck trying to fix.

“Wanna show you somethin’,” she whispered, biting back a smile.

“Later, angel. I’m busy right now.”

He regretted telling her to come in. He should’ve known she’d be nothing but a distraction.

“Dada, jus’ take one look,” she bounced on her feet before slipping a neat sheet of paper on top of Bucky’s desk, momentarily blocking his view of the contracts he was angrily staring at. Now that made Bucky mad.

“I said I was busy!” Bucky shouted as his head snapped to her, his hand slamming down on the paper without even seeing it, blindly crumpling it and throwing it on the floor at her feet. She flinched at the sudden outburst, taking a step back.

“Dada,” tears filled her eyes as she looked at her discarded paper. Bucky just broke her heart.

“Why don’t you ever listen!” Bucky grabbed her arm tighter than usual, pulling her back to him, “How many times do I need to repeat the words for you to understand! I said not now, didn’t I?!” He let go of her arm with more force than he’d intended, making her stumble a little.

She was terrified now. Her heart pounded in her chest as she looked at Bucky with wide eyes. He has never lashed out on her like that, not even when she was big. She was scared. As her breath picked up, she wished she’d never left her playroom.

“Get out and don’t step into this office again until I tell you you can, you hear me?” Bucky growled, oblivious to the signs of regression and horror showing on her face.

Her quick nods set off no alarms in his head as he watched her run out of his office.

Bucky felt bad about taking his anger out on her the second she fled the room. He flopped back down with a huff, flipping through the contracts again and again with no focus. He threw them down carelessly, running his fingers through his hair, tugging at the roots in frustration.

Cracking his hurting neck, Bucky regretted raising his voice at her. He couldn’t see the words on the contracts; her teary eyes flashing through his mind every time he tried reading.

Why did he have to yell? He could’ve just looked at her paper. She was likely trying to show him a drawing. Why couldn’t he just go with it? He’s sworn he’d never let anybody hurt his angel and then he goes and does this?

Bucky was ashamed. What kind of Daddy was he if he treated his little like that? It was no excuse that he was still getting used to being a Daddy. Bucky knew that wasn’t how a man should treat his girl.

He bowed forward, picking up the balled paper by his desk. He carefully straightened it, deciding to fix his angel’s damaged drawing and make it up to her.

Only it wasn’t a drawing; the paper was a handwritten Daddy-Angel contract. It even had colourful flowers, bees and butterflies decorating the paper and everything.

She was probably trying to play office with him; probably just wanted Bucky to pretend he was signing her paper too.

A sad smile spread across Bucky’s lips as he read the paper. The contract stated that

- Dada will smile

- Dada will not be angry no more

- Dada will let me sit on his lap (will be quiet pp)

- Dada will play with me after work

Dada: ……………..

The paper ended with a free space for Bucky to sign in case of agreement to the ‘terms’.

There were a lot of moments where Bucky wished he could turn back time, but not being able to do so in this very moment seemed to torture him the most. He was an asshole.

She just wanted him to calm down. She respected that he was working and she wasn’t trying to interrupt, she merely wanted him to smile. She even pinky promised to sit quietly in his lap.

Bucky has messed up and it was for nothing because the damage to his work has already been done. He shouted at her like she was responsible when she was just trying to help him feel better.

Bucky got his pen out of his pocket, signing the empty place by his name, remorsefully sighing at his utter stupidity.

“Angel,” Bucky called, knocking on the door before opening it.

She wasn’t in her playroom, but Bucky could see her round table full of similar papers to the one he had folded in his pocket.

She’s made at least 6 of these ‘contracts’, some of them were written in different colours or had spelling mistakes.

She’d obviously worked hard until she settled on the paper to give him and he ended up throwing it on the floor.

Bucky’s hand rubbed his face, frustrated at himself and his lack of control. An asshole was what he was. An asshole.

“Angel, where are you, baby?” Bucky sighed, opening the bedroom door to see her sitting, hugging her knees on the large bed.

She looked too tiny bundled up like that and her muffled sniffles punched at Bucky’s heart.

“Angel.”

She only lifted her head up when she felt the bed dip under Bucky’s weight and panic flashed over her delicate features.

“Baby, don’t cry,” Bucky said, his hand instinctively moving to wipe her tears only to have her flinch back, squeezing her eyes shut as if she was awaiting a blow.

Bucky’s heart stopped beating for a second when he realized what had just happened.

She was scared of him. His angel had flinched away from his touch. A huge lump formed in Bucky’s throat as she opened her eyes again, “angel?”

“Please don’ hurt me. Won’ come to the office. Won’ leave the room.” She shook her head and sobbed, scurrying back on the bed and away from Bucky.

This pained Bucky more than any punishment he thought he deserved. The look on her face was enough for him to want the walls to open up and swallow him.

“Angel, I would never hurt you. You know that.” Bucky whispered, sniffing back the tears about to spill down his bearded cheeks.

He needed to hear her say she did. He needed to know she knew Bucky could never hurt her.

She looked from Bucky to her left arm where his metal hand had grabbed her earlier. His fingers had left a mark around her arm. The skin was still pulsing as if his hold on her never loosened.

It was too late and it didn’t matter what he said because he’d already hurt her and the evidence was on her body.

Bucky’s mouth opened and closed as he swallowed again. He didn’t know what to say. He was supposed to be the one protecting her, not the one hurting her. How could he do such a thing to his angel?

“Oh, baby,” he breathed, shaking his head regretfully before trying to get closer to her.

Her instant reaction was to crawl back further and Bucky’s heart sank to his stomach. He felt his soul leaving his body when he looked her in the eyes and saw fear.

A tear betrayed him, falling down, gliding by his lips. Bucky wiped it away quickly, sniffing and clearing his throat.

“I signed your contract, angel.” Bucky got the paper out of his pocket, opening it and putting it on the bed for her to see.

Her eyes looked down and more tears left them at the sight of her once fine work now ruined.

“I’m so sorry, angel. Daddy was bad, baby. I’m sorry,” Bucky pleaded, his fingers reaching out for hers.

She pulled her hand away quickly, hiding it behind her back and Bucky knew he had really messed up. It was no use trying.

She was scared of him. His touch frightened her and was no longer a symbol of comfort to her.

He took his hand away, straightening his back and getting off the bed.

“I-I’ll see you at lunch then.” Bucky sniffed again.

“And angel?” he called from the door, getting her attention.

“Thank you for caring for daddy. I love you.” Bucky has never heard his voice as weak as he did in that moment and he felt even worse when she didn’t say it back.

When the table was set and Bucky came out of his office to find her chair empty, another lump was quick to form in his throat.

He wasn’t even hungry. He had no appetite to eat; he just wanted to see her but didn’t have the guts to peek into their bedroom again.

“Angel?” Bucky was ready to knock on the bedroom door but it was already open.

He carefully pushed it and took a look inside to find the bed empty. He tried not to freak out as he knocked the en suite bathroom door and got no answer. When he opened it, she wasn’t there either.

Bucky could hear his own blood pumping in his ears because she was no where to be found in her playroom as well.

She left. She left him and she had every right to. How could he lose her? How could he lose the one good thing in his life?

Tears distorted Bucky’s vision as his hand clutched the side of the door. His heart clenched at the thought of never seeing her again, never hearing her sweet voice call for him again; never getting to smell her on his pillow again.

The sound of her feet padding on the floor behind him pulled Bucky out of his head and he thought he’d imagined it for a second. He turned around and she froze when his eyes fell on her.

She shifted on her feet, hiding one behind the other and internally hoping Bucky wouldn’t notice she was roaming around with bare feet when he’d specifically asked her not to before.

That was the last of Bucky’s concerns at the moment though. He was just relieved she didn’t leave him even if he deserved it.

“Where were you, angel?” the tenderness of Bucky’s tone let her know he wasn’t mad at her for walking around shoeless.

“Couldn’ fin’ PinePine,” she replied softly, referring to the white feline, “’s lunch time.” Her eyes remained fixed on her feet as she avoided Bucky’s.

He was secretly thankful for that, not wanting her to see him in tears twice in the same day.

She was so pure; so caring and loving to everyone around. Bucky found himself slightly jealous of his own cat for a second there.

“Where did you find, PinePine?” He asked calmly, just wanting to hear her speak to him.

“Downstairs,” she answered shortly, leaving Bucky disappointed.

“Let’s go then. The table’s set.” Bucky smiled, hesitantly offering her his hand.

She stood unmoving for a few seconds, eyes still casted down, before she decided to hold onto Bucky’s pointer.

He sighed, knowing she was still scared but didn’t want to reject him. She was so sweet on him even when he least deserved it.

When lunch was over, Bucky let her know she could come to the office whenever she wanted, although he doubted she would. She gave a small nod before running back to the other room as Bucky shouted an “I’ll get back to work then.” behind her.

He didn’t actually get back to work. He couldn’t focus. He couldn’t think of anything but the way she pulled away from his touch every single time he tried to come near her, or the way she forced herself to hold one of his fingers as they walked less than 10 steps together to the dining room. She'd even begged him not to hurt her earlier.

How did he let himself fuck up so bad? When did they get there? What was he going to do now? How does one get forgiven after being this awful?

A lamp lit above the mafia boss’ head and he grabbed a clean sheet of paper before he could lose the idea.

Bucky was going to write his angel a contract. A pardon contract.

His Daddy-Angel 2.0 contract stated that:

- Angel will forgive Daddy

- Angel will not be sad with Daddy no more

- Angel will sit on Daddy’s lap (even if she doesn’t wanna be quiet)

- Angel will play with Daddy after work if she still wants to

Angel: …………….

Bucky sighed as he tried to draw anything other than sloppy hearts in the empty places around the words to decorate the paper but he was terrible at this. He was desperately in need of his angel’s forgiveness though so he scratched his beard and kept working.

Bucky needed to know she wasn’t actually scared of him; not her. Anyone but her. He wouldn’t be able to take it. He wouldn’t be able to ever tolerate himself if she didn’t forgive him.

Bucky’s tongue was hanging outside the side of his mouth as he drew another birdie on the bottom of the contract. It didn’t really look like a bird, unless of course that bird was struck by lightning a hundred times before, but Bucky thought it would do. After all, he was no artist. He didn’t draw. He didn’t deal with colours; he dealt with weapons. His hands were rough for a reason. But he would do anything for his angel. Anything to win her over again.

A knock on his door cut off his focus and Bucky groaned.

“Come in.”

He felt sorry for whoever had the bad luck of interrupting him during his contract-making, ready to yell at someone.

Bucky looked up from his desk when he didn’t hear anyone speaking, and his face has never softened so fast.

It was his girl who’d come into the office. She had her folded contract in her hand and her eyes were looking kind of puffy from crying.

Bucky just stared at her in remorse, pushing his chair back a bit as he watched her walk closer to his seat.

He wanted to tell her he was sorry. He was so sorry. He’s never been sorrier in his life. He wanted nothing more than to take every word and every harsh touch back.

She stood there for a second, waiting to see if Bucky was going to kick her out this time too. When he didn’t, she rounded the desk and stopped by Bucky’s chair.

Bucky remained speechless, not wanting to scare her away again. She came to him. She came on her own. Unless she came to throw the contract in his face and break up with him, that should be a good sign.

Her tongue peeked outside, wetting her lips nervously before she stretched an arm out, ever so carefully nearing it to Bucky’s thigh. Her gaze was glued to Bucky’s face, gauging his reaction. When Bucky’s frown didn’t show up she let her palm touch Bucky’s leg.

Bucky didn’t understand what she was doing but he wouldn’t dream of questioning her. He was just glad she was okay with touching him again at all after what he’d done, even if she was doing it so cautiously it broke his heart to a thousand pieces.

With her stare trained on Bucky, she stepped forward, slotting herself in the small space between Bucky’s chair and his desk, facing him. Her hands moved to grab on Bucky’s strong shoulders, still watching his face. She swallowed before effortlessly climbing on, cozily curling herself on his lap.

Bucky’s heart swelled as he felt her nose nuzzle his shirt. His own emotions overwhelmed him and tears gathered in his eyes.

“Angel?” his voice was barely a whisper as he looked down to her, careful not to startle her.

She looked up at him worriedly, thinking he didn’t want her where she was.

Her eyes showed fear for a short second before she unfolded the scrunched paper in her hand, a finger pointing to the third term.

“Dada signed,” she said, her eyes so innocent and Bucky couldn’t contain himself anymore.

“Oh, angel,” Bucky’s tears uncontrollably rolled down, wetting his beard.

He held her so close, she could hear his heartbeats drumming in his chest.

“Baby, I’m so sorry.” Bucky cried, wetly kissing her forehead over and over.

“I’m sorry, my angel. Forgive me,” he repeated, leaning down to kiss her bruised shoulder before lifting both hands to his lips and kissing them, “I'm sorry. I'm so sorry.”

“Dada,” her smaller hands cupped Bucky’s cheeks as sadness covered her features.

She’s never seen Bucky like that. Not even at his father’s funeral did he sob like that.

She didn’t know it but to Bucky, the thought of losing her hurt more than the actual loss of a family member who never gave two shits about him.

She was Bucky’s everything. His love, his partner, his companion, his baby angel. She was the one who stole his heart and took good care of it. Bucky would give up anything and everything in life and choose her to forever keep, protect and love.

Her short thumbs wiped under Bucky’s eyes, pushing his tears away. She turned to straddle him and wrapped her arms around his neck, laying her cheek on his shoulder.

The smell of her hair calmed Bucky’s heart down as he turned his face to kiss her head, hands settling on her back, “I will never hurt you, angel. Please tell me you know that, my love.”

Bucky’s hoarse voice had her pulling away from the hug. She sat back and looked her man in the eyes, her thumb brushing his chin, “I know,” she whispered and Bucky could see it in her eyes. She did. She believed him. She knew he wouldn’t hurt her.

She stroked Bucky’s cheeks as he sniffled, smiling gratefully at her reply. And his whole world lit up again when she smiled back, timidly pecking the corner of his pink lips.

Oh she was a real angel. No one’s ever been this kind to Bucky before, only her. Bucky kissed her hand one more time, quietly thanking her for forgiving him.

“I made you a contract too,” Bucky told her with a chuckle, pointing to the desk behind her as he wiped his face with the back of his hand.

Her mouth opened in a silent gasp, her smile reaching her wide eyes. She turned around in Bucky’s lap, planting her knees on the chair between Bucky’s open legs and stood on them to take a look.

She took her time reading the words and then she was off Bucky’s lap and bolting out of the room.

The man was about to lose it again, thinking she’d remembered his cruelty towards her and changed her mind when she came running back inside the office.

She climbed back on the chair between Bucky’s thighs, her glitter pen in hand.

Bucky sighed in relief, his lips spreading with an adoring smile as he watched her write her name letter by letter in glittery ink where her signature was needed. Bucky held her waist, kissing her back as he admired how focused she was.

She closed the cap on the pen, placing it on the desk before picking up the contract to show Bucky.

“Angel signed,” she beamed, plopping herself against Bucky’s chest and clinging to him, earning a hearty chuckle from him.

“I love you so much, angel. More than anything in the world.” Bucky gently held her face by the chin, giving her lips a short kiss.

“I love you too, dada.” She smiled, blushing as she hid her face in his chest again.

Bucky wrapped his arms around her, holding her to him and closing his eyes, just enjoying the feel of her body against his once more, silently promising his angel to never hurt her ever again.

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sunsents · 3 years ago

Text

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.”

#fred weasley x y/n #fred weasley angst #fred weasley smut #fred weasley imagine #fred weasley x reader #harry potter fic #fred weasley fluff #fred weasley #fred wealsey fic #hp smut #fluff #angst #hp angst #reader insert #george weasley #ginny weasley #hermione granger #harry potter

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