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sunsents · 3 years ago

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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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dreamerstreamer · 4 years ago

Text

Devil-May-Care

Pairing: demon!Dream / Clay x demon hunter!gn!reader

Summary: [Demon Hunter!AU] When you went in search of the most powerful demon known to mankind, you didn’t expect him to be so charming.

Warnings: a little horror + some violence + tw// weapons (crossbow, gun)

Word Count: 4.2k

A/N: this was requested by a passionate anon! i fell in love with the request at first sight and had loads of fun writing this, although i did take some creative liberty with it. i hope you all enjoy :)

You huffed as you pushed past the branch hanging in your face, wrinkling your nose as you trudged onward. The forest was almost eerily silent around you, the pitch black night doing nothing to ease the tension that had gathered in your shoulders. Above you, the moon and stars twinkled soundlessly, peering down at you with wide, watching eyes.

Where could he possibly be hiding? you thought to yourself with a grimace. Is he even in this forest?

Your mentor had told you that this forest was the last place he’d ever been seen, and that it would be your best bet. But she also told you not to get your hopes too high, since he was known to be a trickster who never stayed in one spot for too long.

You sighed as you stepped over a fallen log, making sure not to trip. Despite how young the night was, you were already getting tired. Tracking was arguably the hardest part of your job, and easily your least favourite part of it.

Then again, no one said being a demon hunter was easy.

With a slight grumble, you squinted through the darkness while walking past another tree. So far, all you’d seen was tree after after tree, and you were getting fed up. Heck, you could have sworn there was a clearing just ahead of you here.

It was at that moment that the trees suddenly parted before you, and you found yourself standing in the middle of a clearing. The soft grass rustled beneath your feet as you took a tentative step forward, your ears perking up for any noise or movement. When nothing came, the muscles in your legs tensed.

This was the first clearing you had found in hours, and something about it just felt off.

“What are you looking for, little hunter?”

You whirled at the sound of the low, curling voice, your gaze frantically darting around the darkness for its source. You kept your lips pursed as your head whipped this way and that, nothing but silence filling the forest air. Even with the light of the moon, all you could make out between the shadows were the silhouettes of trees and their taunting branches looming over you.

There was no way it was who you thought it was... right?

“Not gonna say anything? Hm. Perhaps that’s just because you can’t see me. Here.”

You heard the snap of a finger, and the clearing around you suddenly lit up in a faint, greenish hue. Your eyes widened as the earth you stood upon began to glow, your fingers twitching at your side. Turning again, you quickly searched your surroundings once more for the voice’s owner. Everything seemed to be exactly how it appeared when you first arrived—the trees were just trees and the grass was just grass, even if they were both admittedly glowing.

Just then, there came a whistle from above you.

You lifted your head, and your gaze fell upon a figure sitting atop a tree branch a few feet away. Your breath caught in your throat at the sight.

Piercing, emerald eyes. A green fitted shirt to match. Dark, golden hair. A smattering of freckles. A cold, wicked grin.

The man smiled at you, swinging his legs leisurely as he tilted his head. “Hello there, pet.”

You didn’t wait another second before your arms were reaching up behind you, pulling your crossbow off your back. You slotted the arrow into the flight groove in near record time before aiming it up at him, aiming for but a split second before you pulled the trigger. In a flash, the arrow went flying through the night sky, pointed directly at his face. You could have sworn you caught his eyes turn red before he suddenly vanished, your arrow passing through empty space before pinning itself into the tree trunk he had been leaning against just seconds prior.

You panted, quickly pulling another arrow out of your quiver and reloading your crossbow as you turned in a circle, not a single detail going unnoticed by your watchful eyes. Adrenaline pumped through your veins as you tried to focus on the rustling leaves around you. Your fingers curled around the stock of your bow a fraction tighter, your heartbeat pounding in your ears.

Where is he? Where did he go?

A smooth voice curled around the back of your neck.

“Is this how you greet everyone you meet, or am I just special?”

Whipping around again, you pulled the trigger without even an ounce of hesitation. A twang of satisfaction shot through you as you heard the distinct sound of flesh being pierced, followed by a tumble to the ground. You rushed over at the sight of the man—or demon, as you should be calling him—lying sprawled on the ground, his arms casually tucked under his head as if he hadn’t just been shot.

“Ooh,” he murmured, wrapping his fingers around the arrow sticking out of his chest, “your arrows are made of dreamshade.” He grinned at you. “Smart one, aren’t you?”

Before you could even react, he ripped the arrow out, watching with amusement as crimson slowly dripped onto the front of his shirt. You stared at the hole in his chest, left behind by your arrow, a glimmer of glee expanding in your chest. Yes! you thought, your lips quirking as your hand floated toward the pistol hanging at your side. Now’s my cha—

All of a sudden, you watched in horror as the skin began to reform, the sinew and muscle stitching themselves back together to fill the gap. In an instant, his chest was whole again, the hole having disappeared entirely with nothing to even hint at its existence, were it not for the tear in his shirt.

“Unfortunately for you,” he said, tossing the arrow behind his head with a flick of his fingers, “I’m tougher than most demons out there.”

In a flash, you were standing over him, one foot digging into his chest. You didn’t even give him the chance to blink before you were pointing your crossbow at him once more, this time just barely allowing the arrow tip to hover above his neck. You tried to calm your breaths, pushing back the sick sense of joy you could feel starting to boil over inside you. You were so, so close to just killing hi—

“Don’t you think it’s a little rude to attack me without even asking for my name?” he calmly drawled, looking bored out of his mind.

You blinked in surprise, your thoughts faltering for a moment before your expression hardened once more. “I know who you are.”

He cocked his head at you, something like delight swimming in his viridian eyes. “Do you, now?”

You gulped, hesitating only for a moment before you began to speak. “Y-You’re Dream. Lord of chaos. Progenitor of destruction. Harbinger of nightmares.” You nearly choked on your own words.

“The world’s most powerful demon.”

He grinned at you, clapping his hands together above his head as he let out a small hoot. “Aw, you know all my titles?” He winked. “That’s cute.”

Cute, your brain repeated dumbly, a fuzzy feeling forming in your chest, but you quickly shook the thought from your head with a scowl. You should not be happy that one of the most powerful demon’s known to mankind called you cute.

(Okay, well. Maybe you were a little happy. Not that you would ever admit it.)

With a stony look, your finger wrapped around the crossbow trigger, the cool metal sending a shiver down you spine. “I’m here to kill you, Dream.”

He didn’t look fazed. “Oh? Even though we only just met?”

A snarl ripped itself out of your throat, fury slowly beginning to claw up your insides. Why did he sound so calm? Didn’t he understand that he was about to die to your hand?

“That doesn’t matter,” you said bluntly, trying to ignore your heart ramming away at your ribcage. “You’re a monster that needs to be disposed of.”

He hummed, absentmindedly picking at his nail. “That’s bold of you to say.” His tone was dull and interested, and his eyes seemed to shine even brighter thanks the green glow surrounding his head. “I can’t remember the last time a demon hunter has ever been so upfront with me.”

The string tying your restraint together snapped. That was it. How could he be so nonchalant? So apathetic? Didn’t he care?

“You’ve killed so many people,” you spat, “taken so many innocent lives, and for what?” You narrowed your eyes, nothing but pure disgust running through your veins as you dug the tip of your crossbow into the soft flesh of his neck. “What reason do I have to stop myself from ending your life right here, right now?”

Below you, Dream only stared blankly at you, his eyebrows raised. Then, he let out a sigh, wrapping a hand around the stock of your crossbow. Panic shot through you as he pulled it away from his throat with ease, his fingers curling around the polished wood. “First of all,” he said lowly, “that little thing isn’t going to do anything.”

In a blink of an eye, you heard the snapping of metal and wood, your gaze going wide. He shot you a cocky grin. “Not anymore.”

You leapt back, gritting you teeth and tossing your now useless crossbow onto the earth beside you. Your hand moved in a blur as you reached down and pulled out your pistol from its holster, pointing it toward him. “Each and every one of these bullets is soaked in holy water,” you shouted, your hand cocking back the safety. “Don’t think I won’t shoot.”

Dream rolled over onto his stomach, his grin widening as he rested his chin on his hand. “Tell me,” he drawled, tilting his head, “do you really think you scare me?”

You ignored the shaking of your fingers. “I—I can and will shoot you.”

He laughed, an uncomfortable warmth wrapping around your gut. “Please, darling—I’ve been alive for longer than you can even fathom. As if you’d be the first to pin me down, let alone try to shoot me.” His eyes flashed crimson, and you felt your stomach drop. “I know all your hunter tricks and tactics, and believe me when I say they won’t work.”

Suddenly, he floated up off the ground, not changing his position whatsoever. In only a matter of seconds, he was hovering above you, blinking down at your shocked expression with mirth glimmering in his scarlet gaze.

Of course he could levitate—what were you expecting?

“Second,” he said, “I did a lot of those things a long time ago, especially in human years. How long has it been?” He tapped his chin. “Probably centuries by now, which is like forever for you guys.”

You scowled at him, your pistol still pointed at him. “That doesn’t mean you haven’t caused any chaos recently.”

“That’s true!” he chirped, snapping his fingers. “But my more recent activities have been much more... tame in comparison to my golden years, don’t you think?”

As much as you wanted to shoot him right here and now, you also wanted to punch him in the face before you did. “Lives are lives, Dream!” you shouted. “Any more or less lost doesn’t make you any more redeemable.”

A chuckle slipped from his lips, flipping onto his back as he continued to hover in the cool, night air. “Oh, you humans and your morality. How entertaining you all are.”

There was only one word running through your mind as you glared at him, your jaw clenching tight as your rage only multiplied inside you. Monster, monster, monster.

His eyelids fluttered shut as he allowed himself to drift a fraction lower toward you. “Well, I do believe I should ask—who’s to say that I was the one who killed those people, anyways?”

Your heart stopped in your chest. “...what are you talking about?”

He peeked an eye open at you. “It’s not like I flew down from the sky and shot them all with a rifle, and it’s not like I just snapped my fingers and everyone dropped dead.” He hummed at the thought. “Just what kind of person do you take me for?”

You bit the inside of your cheek, your toes curling in your boots. “Stop distracting me—you’re dodging the question.”

“On the contrary,” he shot back without missing a beat, “I’d argue that you’re dodging mine, pet.” You could hear the laughter threatening to bubble up his throat as he spoke. “Do you really think I was the one purely responsible for all that destruction?”

You tried to ignore the slight tremble of your hands. “A-Aren’t you?” you stammered out. “You’ve started wars, detonated massive bombs, pushed people to their absolute limits. That stuff’s all your fault.” You gulped. “...isn’t it?”

For a second, he simply stared at you. Then, he burst into a fit of giggles. “Oh, how naïve you are, pet. Just what were you taught?” As he clutched his chest, he sunk a little lower toward you. “I didn’t fight on those battlefields. I didn’t press the red button. I didn’t kick men and women to the ground, pointing guns in their faces. But do you know who did?”

The cogs in your head began to turn as you wracked your mind over his words. Then, a wave of understanding slammed into you, and you lowered your pistol, your arm going limp at your side.

He couldn’t possibly mean...

“Ding, ding, ding! You guessed it.” His lips curled up into a delighted smirk. “Humanity did.”

Your eyes widened in horror. Oh, no.

The manic look in his eyes only grew. “Oh, yes.” He cackled at the look on your face, pointing at you. “I didn’t even have to lift a finger for you to all walk straight into your own demise! How pathetic is that?”

You took a shaky step back, your pistol dropping to the ground. “B-B—”

“B-B-B-But what?” he said mockingly, mimicking you in a high-pitched tone. “Did they tell you that I’m the big, bad wolf and that humanity is Little Red? Because they lied, pet. They lied to you.” He pointed his fingers together to form an X, tilting his head at you. “I’ll have you know that I’m not a liar. A trickster, perhaps. But a liar?” He narrowed his eyes. “Never.”

He bent down where he hovered in the air, waggling a finger in your face. “The truth is, darling, is that I didn’t do anything. I just stood in the room and watched. I might have pointed out that that one little duke was in perfect view, or that that one city only had so many people living in it, but I never took any lives myself.” He lightly tapped your nose, and you shrunk back as he crooned, “Humanity did all that, pet. They’re the real monsters to blame here.”

You wanted to sink to your knees and melt into a puddle on the ground. He was wrong. He had to be wrong. Your mentor told you that Dream killed all those people—that he was the one to stab the knife in and twist it while pulling it out. She wouldn’t lie to you, never in a million years.

You wanted to believe him, you really did. But there was something about the freckles scattered across Dream’s face and the way the moonlight bounced off his eyes that made you realize.

He was telling the truth.

A few moments passed in silence as you stared long and hard down at your feet. You could feel Dream’s gaze boring into your figure, eyeing you up and down as you struggled to steady the beating of your heart. You half-expected him to mock you even more, but to your surprise, he didn’t. Maybe he was more human than you thought.

“Why?” you finally whispered after god knows how long.

When you were met with silence, you raised your eyes to meet his once more. “Why did you do it?” you said, louder this time. “Why did you interact with us at all if you wouldn’t even get your own hands dirty? If you knew it would only end like this?”

His eyes flashed, the tiniest hint of carmine swirling in their murky depths. “Isn’t the answer obvious, pet?” He flashed you a wicked grin. “I was bored.”

You blinked, realization slowly setting in. “Bored? Bored?” You were about to lose it, now. “You did all that just because you were bored?”

He shrugged. “Sure did. Chaos makes the world so much more interesting, don’t you think? If only good things happened, you would be bored, too.”

Your stomach churned with disgust. “You’re twisted.”

His smile only widened. “At least I’m having fun.”

All you could do was stare at him in defeat. This wasn’t right. There were more ways to have fun than to toy with humanity’s psyche and drive them to end people’s lives, even for a demon like him. There had to be something you could do. For some inexplicable reason you couldn’t bring yourself to name, a part of you almost wanted to help him.

I must be losing my mind, you thought. What person in their right mind would try to save a demon, let alone the most powerful one of them all?

You, apparently.

The cogs in your head began to churn, your mind bustling as it tried to come up with some alternative, no matter how silly. There had to be something he could do that wasn’t just this.

That was when it hit you.

“Why,” you started slowly, your voice coming out shaky and unsure, “don’t you have fun in a way that doesn’t destroy things... but creates them?”

He blinked lazily at you. “Hm?”

You swallowed, raising your chin. “You—you can have chaos, but it doesn’t need to be destructive.”

He raised his brows. “It doesn’t?”

Your gaze hardened. “Not at all.”

Just then, a flash of memory shot through your skull, and you gasped. “Say, Dream,” you began, “do you—do you know how the Greeks thought the universe came to be?”

You didn’t wait for him to answer. “First,” you said, “there was chaos. And from chaos, life was born. Gods and goddesses, plants and animals.”

“And humans,” he added.

You nodded. “And humans—like me.” You pressed a hand to your chest. “See? Chaos can create things. It doesn’t have to be so full of death and terror.”

While his expression was bemused, there was something sad about it that you couldn’t quite put your finger on. “You do realize that that’s just a story that you human made up?” he hummed. “How the universe came to be is far more different.”

You blinked. “You were alive for that?”

He sent you a blank smile, the look in his eyes betraying nothing. “Maybe, maybe not.” Waving his hand, he flipped over onto his back, floating a fraction higher than before. “Point is, that kind of chaos probably doesn’t exist.”

Your hands clenched into fists at your side. “But it could,” you whispered.

He paused, curiosity flickering in his gaze. “What?”

You dug your heel into the ground, raising your voice. “It could! You don’t know that it doesn’t.” You took a step toward him, throwing your arms out. “Isn’t that fun? Isn’t that exciting? That there’s a whole other form of chaos you’ve never discovered before?!”

Your shout rang out into the quiet forest as Dream stared at you, his lips parted the tiniest bit. Rather than looking amused or arrogant, he almost looked... raw. Real. This might just the most vulnerable look you’d gotten of him all night.

Then, he burst into laughter.

Lowering your arms, you huffed at him, trying and failing to ignore the warmth blossoming between your lungs as you took in his wheezing face. “W-What?”

“Oh,” he gasped between peals of laughter, “what a treat you are, pet.”

Heat flashed across your cheeks as he wiped away a tear from his eye, his chuckles slowly dying down. His laugh should not sound as attractive as it was—he should not be as attractive as he was.

“Tell you what,” he said as he caught his breath once more, sending you a devilish grin. “If you tell me your name, I’ll tell you my real one.”

You stared at him for a moment, then your jaw dropped. “What?”

He stared at you, his emerald eyes glowing in the dim light. “You heard me.”

For a few seconds, you simply gaped, your brain still struggling to process his words. “But... but why?” you finally blurted. “It doesn’t make any sense.”

He hummed at you, flipping upside down. “What about it doesn’t make sense? It seems like a fair trade to me.”

Sputtering, you threw your hands into the air. “A demon’s true name is the source of their power! By handing it over to me, you’re basically putting your life in my hands—in a demon hunter’s hands.” Your face blanched at the mere thought. “A human name and demon name aren’t even remotely comparable.”

He blinked at you, slow and lazy. “I know.”

You didn’t understand—you couldn’t understand. “Then why are you doing this?”

He dipped his down toward you, his face hovering mere inches away from yours. “Isn’t it obvious?” he murmured. “You’re interesting. And rather cute, I suppose.”

You back-pedaled, your eyes wide as you stammered, “I-I could kill you if you told me your real name.”

He hummed, tucking his hand under his chin. “Perhaps, I suppose.” His lips curled upward. “But you won’t.”

Your hand squeezed around nothing. “You don’t know that.”

He chuckled again, and your heart skipped a beat in your chest. “Oh, yes I do, pet. Don’t act as though I can’t see right through you. I know you’re too wishy-washy to kill me off just like that.”

He tilted his head at you, his gaze brimming with mischief. “That’s the thing about humans—you’re all so greedy. You all want something you don’t have, something that fuels you to acquire more. It might be power, or fame, or fortune, or love. It’s quite pathetic, really. But curiosity?”

Lowering himself, he pushed himself up until he was standing flat on the ground again, his hands sliding into his pockets. His tongue darted out to wet his lips, and your mouth went dry. “Why, curiosity is your greatest flaw of all. You humans always want to know more, and I know that you want to know what I do next, whether you’re aware of it or not.”

You felt like your blood was going to tear right out of your veins. You hated how right he was, how well he seemed to know you. “You’re insane,” you said.

His smile was lazy and wide as he took a single step toward you. “Probably. But I’ve been alive for ages now, and you might be the most fun thing I’ve seen in millennia. I want to know your name, pet.”

This was crazy in every sense of the word. Any other demon wouldn’t even dare utter their true name aloud, even to themselves, yet here Dream was, bargaining his for yours.

You’d be an idiot not to tell him your name, now.

Swallowing, you didn’t dare look away from his piercing eyes. “It—my name is [Y/N].”

His lips parted in awe, and he stepped toward you once more. “[Y/N],” he repeated, slowly. Carefully, like a wolf stalking its prey. “Fascinating name. Haven’t met too many of those in my lifetime, shocking as it may be.” He paused for a moment, and you could have sworn his smile looked different. “It’s pretty.”

A rush of heat went shooting down your spine, your stomach doing a flip. Biting the inside of your cheek, you glared at him. “Well, stop dawdling! What’s your real name, Dream?”

For a long, excruciatingly slow minute, he only stared at you, scanning every inch of your face. You could feel anxiety begin to crawl up your throat as he did nothing more than watch the rise and fall of your chest as you breathed.

All of a sudden, he was standing in front of you, his hand tucked underneath your chin and lifting it upward. You barely had the chance to gasp before you felt a soft warmth pressing against your lips, light as a feather and tasting like ash and smoke.

Before you could even register what had just happened, he was gone.

You whirled, your face growing astronomically hot. Your heartbeat was pounding in your ears again, but for an entirely different reason this time. You raised your hand to touch your lips while your cheeks burned furiously.

Did he just... kiss me?

Just then, a whisper ran along the shell of your ear, so soft that you almost missed it.

“My name is Clay.”

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ruffboijuliaburnsides · 3 years ago

Note

Hi! Obviously ignore this if I'm asking something too personal, but you've mentioned that you're in the process of converting to judaism and I've been wondering how did you start? I've done a good bit of research and think it's something I'm interested in, but I have no idea what the actual process of conversion looks like, much less where to begin. Obviously feel free to ignore, or send me towards someone else, but thought I'd ask!

Hey no worries, anon! So, I will preface this by being forthcoming and saying I got partway through the conversion process, was forced to move, and ended up in a different part of the country with only one shul nearby whose rabbi (and community) are… very unfriendly to converts. They don’t SAY they are, but a few months of attendance and a handful of meetings with the rabbi with regards to conversion really hammered home that neither my wife nor I felt even remotely comfortable converting here, considering it’s a very personal and often vulnerable process, and wherein you have to actually like… trust and communicate with the rabbi you’re working with. So my conversion, while I still consider it “in progress”, is in an indefinite stall until we can move somewhere else or can reliably get to the next closest shul, which we currently cannot for various reasons.

ANYWAY. I started by doing a lot of research. Mostly I was just looking into… all kinds of religion, including Islam actually, because I missed the community and the structure and the spiritual anchors of my very conservative evangelical christian upbringing, but I didn’t like or want to return to the actual, y’know…. beliefs and tenets of Christianity. I found Judaism and just… the more I read and researched about the beliefs and the general culture of questioning and grappling with things within it, the more I felt like I’d found a people who I could understand, and a religion that understood me and would allow for me to be uncomfortable and question why things are taught certain ways and so forth. Which was one of many things that drove me away from Christianity, as I was not good at the whole “blind faith” thing. (they insist it’s not blind, but if you’re not supposed to question god then… what else IS it?)

At that point we were living in upstate new york, and the nearest reform shul was very small, did not have a permanent rabbi (there was one for a number of local communities that cycled around every few weeks), and really while they were officially reform they seemed to as a community have a practice and beliefs a lot closer to something like reconstructionist or humanist Judaism. I went to shabbat services on fridays there for a few months, and they were very nice but said they were very much not a usual reform congregation and that I should probably actually convert somewhere with a permanent rabbi and that was a bit more traditional, but that in the meantime they were more than happy to have me attend services and events with them. They were very sweet and I did appreciate that opportunity to accustom myself to the general pacing and content of a friday night shabbat service.

At that point we get to the part that you’re actually asking about, and I’m sorry if you’re just like “OH MY GOSH MAGS PLS JUST GET TO THE POINT” which is when we moved back down to Florida and I actually properly started the conversion process with a rabbi! I started out emailing the local shul and saying that I had just moved to the area, I was not Jewish but was interested in possibly converting and had been attending services at a very small shul up north, and is it all right if I attend a few shabbat services while I consider converting? I will say, I have never been told “no please don’t attend” about going to shabbat services, but especially with the world the way it is, and me being new and not knowing anyone in the community or having anyone to vouch for me, I prefer to ask beforehand so that they know to expect someone new who is reaching out and less likely to be a threat.

Anyway after a couple of weeks at that shul, I already loved the people and could tell I would get on pretty well with the rabbi, so I emailed her again about setting up a meeting to discuss converting. We had the meeting, talked about why I wanted to convert, what would be required of me, etc. She got me set up with a book list and some books from the shul library, gave me a reading assignment and asked me to write down any thoughts or questions I had, along with some other things that were kind of reading comprehension stuff, and told me to email her when I had finished so we could have another meeting. She also stipulated that she would have me live and practice through a full year of the Jewish calendar at minimum before she’d declare me ready to go to the mikvah, and we’d meet regularly, I’d do a lot of reading, I needed to attend a beginning hebrew class for adults that would be starting again over the summer, attend services (both weekly and holiday) as much as possible, and engage as much as possible in the community. (I really loved them. I was a soloist in the Purim spiel that year and I had friends and once I’d finished converting and could join the synagogue I’d already been needled to join their tiny choir and it was just a great group of people.)

Aaaand then we had to move due to things outside our control, and I couldn’t attend as often due to being a heck of a drive away (in a car with no A/C, in Florida, in the summer) so I tried to shift over to a closer shul whose rabbi my old rabbi knew, but it was High Holy Days and then he was travelling for some studies and couldn’t start doing anything like conversion until that was all over, and then we had to move again and now we’re here and have a very unfriendly rabbi and congregation, so we don’t attend services right now.

…………all this to say: you’ve done some research and you think you’re interested. Next step is to find the nearest shul that is of the movement you want to convert in, and call or email them and just let the rabbi know where you’re at and ask if you can attend some services respectfully to see if you still feel drawn to Judaism when engaging with it directly. If so, let the rabbi know, set up a meeting, and go from there. It’ll take time, a year at the LEAST and usually longer even if you DON’T have the sort of issues I’m currently having, but if HaShem is calling you home, it’s worth it.

(and if your rabbi requires to you take any classes or what-not, most organizations that run them that require you to pay some kind of fee offer scholarships or reduced tuition if you’re not financially able to enroll in them initially, so be sure to reach out about stuff like that, too.)

#i use ‘calling you home’ specifically bc #one of the books i read talked about how all jewish souls were at sinai at least metaphorically #it’s just some of them weren’t born into jewish families #and that every convert is just a wandering jewish soul coming home #and i really really liked that #talked about it a lot with rabbi T back when things were on track #but that IS what it’s been like from start to finish #it’s felt without reservation like coming home #in a way nothing else in my life ever has #so y’know #jewish stuff #judaism #conversion stuff #sorry that this got so long and rambly #i’ve been having The Feels lately about my stalled conversion #it’s very frustrating and i think I just needed to get it out a bit heh

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yuuhta · 4 years ago

Text

just once

pairing: gojou satoru/reader

genre: smut

you weren't one to engage in one night stands, especially with strangers and well known fuck boys. heck, you don't even think about it, you just know so damn well that you would never want to get involved with them, dreading the thought that you might get feelings, only to be a check mark on their list.

but when gojou satoru came in the room, and his eyes were fixed on you, and only you, you can't help but think that maybe you can make an exception just this one time.

he hasn't even done or said anything yet, but you already feel so down for whatever he has in store. you aren't one to jump in to conclusions and assume that someone is interested in you, but the way his gorgeous blue eyes focused on you and only you as he walked inside the room, you just know it.

he is only proving your theory to be true when he sat on the chair beside you.

gojou satoru doesn’t count as a stranger since he’s a previous classmate and current workmate, but it has been well-established among your group of friends that he's one hell of a fuck boy. he's literally the no-strings-attached kind of guy, and you can say this is a fact because your mutual friend, which is satoru's best friend, ieri shouko, has told you that a one night stand is really just a one night stand for satoru, just a way to relieve his needs, no love, no romance, no feelings. he simply just doesn't really care. oh and also, he has never fucked a girl twice.

honestly, before today, he was someone in your to-avoid list. although you acknowledge that he’s very attractive, you never really paid much attention to guys who gave off arrogant vibes, so you barely interacted with him. you knew to yourself that you'd rather not get involved with someone like him. hearing the stories about satoru just made you feel nauseous, you've always thought of him as an asshole who only thinks with his dick. he's the strongest jujutsu sorcerer, yeah, but you give absolutely zero shit about that.

he's a heartbreaker... but if you were going to be honest, it's not like he's the only one to blame. he didn't really intentionally make the people he slept with fall in love with him.

you also heard from shouko that satoru always makes sure to tell his one night stand partner about the no strings attached rule. however, some still end up falling in love with him, or on some cases, they're already in love with him even before it happened.

fell in love with satoru?

it's their fault. in satoru's defense, he made sure to tell them to not fall.

it's satoru's fault. in their defense, satoru obviously led them on.

now that you think about it, besides stories about his sexual activity and the number of confessions he turned down, you don't really know much about him.

he always gave off a confident and pompous vibe, but whenever you had your little interactions with him, he actually seemed a bit decent. however, that was probably only because he knew how to separate his personal life from work.

but honestly, he is the strongest jujutsu sorcerer, and on top of that, he has an ethereal face and an excellent body proportion. he has all reasons to be extremely confident.

"hi." the blue-eyed man started, removing his blindfold to change it with his shades.

your theory? so far, he's only proving it to be true. he definitely had his eyes on you.

you were feeling extremely and unusually conscious, but of course you try to hide it by acting like a bitch.

your eyebrows knit slightly as you take a look at him from the corner of your eye. "what?"

okay, now, you're starting to wonder if he's actually trying to flirt with you, or just become all buddy buddy with you. maybe you’re just being a mean bitch for no reason.

his eyes widened subtly at your response, probably not expecting such a dry and a bit rude answer. "you look cute today." he whispers.

his breath didn’t touch your ear, but it still sent shivers down your spine. you don’t let it physically show, but your paranoid ass is thinking he might’ve been able to sense it through cursed energy.

you wanted to roll your eyes to the point of seeing your brain inside your head, but you don't, and obviously, you can't.

"thanks?" you sneered.

you definitely don't want to deal with any bullshit and unnecessary feelings, so you at least try to ward him off while you still can.

"ah, sorry. are you in a bad mood?"

irked, you decided to ignore him, not knowing how to respond to his question. why is he trying to talk to you, in the first place?

your conversations with him were always brief and professional, mostly just to cooperate on a mission. you barely even looked at each other during those times. so you being cold and rude right now was a bit surprising to him. you're not usually like this, but it's the only thing you can do to try not to give in to his flirting.

well, sorry to him, you absolutely hate guys who try to get in your pants. no past bad experience or whatever, but you really don't like them. their style is just not your cup of tea. you’re someone who needs the emotional and wholesome connection before doing some... stuff.

and maybe that’s why you’re still a virgin. suguru is just a friend, ijichi and kusakabe are simply not your style, and nanami, oh, nanami. he’s the one who comes the closest to your type, but he just ain’t it, as well. you wanted someone who can deal with your jokes and occasional sarcastic remarks. you wanted a bit of playfulness.

"okay, i guess it's already obvious and i shouldn't have asked that."

you've never thought about it, but being the one on the receiving end of gojou satoru's attention actually feels different. now you feel a bit of regret for being mean.

you didn’t reply to him in any way, and he didn’t bother prodding anymore after.

you don’t know if you’re pleased or dismayed about this.

honestly though, you badly wanted to indulge him and flirt back. you just don't do so because how were you supposed to do that now, with all that’s been said and done.

glancing at him discreetly, you noticed that it seems like it doesn’t really matter for him, whether you ignored him or not.

good, you think to yourself, sighing in relief about the fact that gojou doesn’t care much about you. at least you feel chill now.

an hour has passed and the meeting has come to an end. not another word has been exchanged between the two of you.

you couldn’t wait to get the fuck out of that room.

you hurriedly stood up and headed to where the door was, but the superiors and older officials were heading out first, so you were just standing there in the middle of the room, somehow stranded.

you were walking in place because of impatience, when suddenly, you felt a large hand wrap around your wrist.

startled, you flinched at the sudden skin contact. your hyperawareness was at its peak since gojou satoru was just standing right behind you, you were very conscious of what the fuck he’s doing.

“oh. sorry, did i startle you?” he immediately pulled his hand away, raising it slightly.

'yes, insect, go away.'

“no. what is it?” you said in a rushed manner.

“are you in a hurry?” he asked. he wasn’t being sarcastic, but you wanted to punch him, nonetheless. why can’t he just let you be?

“can you stay?”

you felt your heart jump to your throat.

'what the fuck.'

all of a sudden, you can be compared to a statue. you were incredibly flustered, feeling all the blood flowing so fast in your body at his question.

now, the sexual tension, for you, has rose to very high levels, to the point that your tongue refuses to move.

you can’t even think straight right now.

“satoru, y/n, aren’t you two going to head out?” principal yaga indifferently asked, his head peeking on the door.

you didn’t know what to say in response, and gojou didn’t say anything either, so the principal only shrugged and closed the door behind him.

sighing, you internally thanked principal yaga for breaking the heavy atmosphere that was rapidly building up for you.

“i’ll get going, then.” you said, roughly pulling your hand away from satoru.

when you were already near the door, he suddenly appeared next to it and opened it for you.

with a small frown on your face, your mouth fell agape, what the fuck does he want?

it’s not like it’s the first time someone has ever showed you this kind of attention. it’s just simple and basic interaction. you were just getting all worked up because it’s gojou satoru. gorgeous fucking shit.

the heck is he opening the door for?

he's someone who you can't even call a gentleman. he always carefully chose the people he'll be nice to. a pretty woman can trip in front of him, and he won't bother giving two shits, he won't help her if he doesn't feel like it. he's the type to not respect old people just because they're old people.

but the thing is, you do know he’s not a bad person. he’s just... rude and annoying, and has his own way in doing stuff, but he’s actually a good person. his intentions are harmless, you know it.

nonetheless, you still don't want any personal involvement with him.

however, your own body is telling you otherwise.

the warmth that was increasingly becoming unbearable down your core is starting to reach its limits, as well as the rational part in you. so, as if you weren’t trying your very best to avoid him just a few seconds ago, you closed the door with your own hand, “what is it?”

you were thinking, maybe he just wants to talk about something in private. maybe it's nothing bed-related. maybe you were just overthinking.

“do you want me to get straight to the point?” he asked with lidded eyes, looking down on you intensely.

actually, at this point, you were sure. your theory is absolutely correct. he’s definitely giving you the bedroom eyes.

holy shit.

he bends down to your level, his face just a few inches away from yours.

“i want you.”

satoru says this with such intensity that you had to pause for a second to swallow the lump that got caught in your throat.

the longer you look into his eyes, the more you want to succumb to the hints of pleasure that was starting to build up down there.

but first of all, you had to at least clear this up. you needed to be sure. maybe it’s just a misunderstanding on your part.

“want me? uh, what exactly do you want from me?”

gojou noticed that your question was completely innocent, it had no underlying meaning.

he pulls away, removing his shades to examine your face carefully, amusement painted on his features.

at the same time, you also get the chance to scan his face. he sure is handsome. his eyes are so fucking beautiful, you could get lost in it.

the man probably has no idea that you have zero experience in these kind of... activities. though, to him, you seemed like someone carefree and wild. it's probably because sometimes, you sounded like a thirsty hoe when talking about crushes with friends. little does he know that all of your knowledge just came from watching and reading.

you were expecting him to get annoyed, to just walk away, and look for someone else out there to indulge him. but to your surprise, he chuckled.

'is he making fun of me right now?'

gojou finds it amusing... and cute, even, that you can make casual talk in a situation like this. he knew that you were trying to reassure yourself.

the sexual tension between the two of you was just so thick, it has been building up so fast ever since you and gojou made eye contact.

it sounds absurd, but it’s true.

"is it alright if i kiss you?" he simply said, giving you the reassurance that you needed.

eyes widening, your mouth dropped slightly at the question.

maybe your heart jumped a little at the request and the gentleness his tone gave off, who knows.

"if you don't want to--"

mind completely going blank, you rudely cut him off, pulling the neckline of his top to press your lips against his abruptly.

feeling him smirk against your mouth, you quickly pulled away in embarrassment, the realness of your actions suddenly sinking inside your brain.

you were about to head straight for the door as the rational part of you has realized that you actually kissed the fucking douchebag gojou satoru.

neither of you were even drunk, you should have known much better.

the plan was for naught, though, when said man’s long fingers wrapped around your face, gently making you look up at him as he bent down to reconnect his lips with yours.

satoru’s lips were softer than expected, and it moved smoothly against yours. the prick definitely knew what he was doing. so, without hesitating, you kiss him back, letting your lips mold together fervently.

he started kissing down your chin and onto your jaw, pausing just at the base below your ear, biting and sucking at the skin firmly.

you knew deep inside your mind that it was definitely going to leave a mark. but you decided to brush it off and just think about it later.

the rational part of you is screaming that you're going to regret this the next day. not even a drop of alcohol is in your system right now. you have absolutely zero excuses to use as to why you're actually giving in to full-of-shit-fuck-boy gojou satoru right now.

“the door is not locked, you know, we might get caught,” satoru whispers just right in front of your ear, his breath sending shivers down your spine as he started to shamelessly grind against you.

right, you both were still at the meeting room.

“yeah. so, get the fuck off of me.” you said in a hushed tone.

despite the words that were coming out of your own mouth, you just stood there, stiff like a statue, feeling his member grow harder. you didn’t know if you wanted to push him away, or pull him closer.

well, at least it means that your self-control is still somehow working.

however, the warmth that was building up down your core was clouding your mind, making your body refuse to move.

you were about to enclose your arms around his neck, when a loud noise was made. you felt your heart drop to your gut, roughly pushing him away as your face started to lose all colors at the thought that there might be someone else at the place, and that you both might get caught.

"don't worry. that was just a rat." he mumbled, looking at you with bedroom eyes.

"h-how can you say for sure?"

with a smirk painted on his annoying face, he bends down once again, but this time, he placed his hands on the backside of your thighs, lifting you up to wrap your legs around his waist. "i'm gojou satoru."

with his smug reassurance, relief washed over you and calmed your panicked state.

this time, you were the one who crashed your mouth against his, successfully circling your arms around his neck this time.

you were incredibly turned on with everything. the position he has put you in is definitely not helping with you trying to resist him. fucking fuck boy.

when you finally noticed the presence of the aching heat that has grown too strong to ignore in between your legs, you grind your hips onto his, sighing at the much needed friction.

gojou groaning at the action has only worsened the situation. again, the rational part of you knows that you will regret this the next day, but at this point, you were already in too deep to even back out. well, maybe you aren't that deep yet, but yeah. you thought that you might as well just finish what you’ve already started, and save the regrets for later.

satoru sat down on the floor with his back on the wall, making it easy for you to move on top of him, with you straddling his hips.

feeling completely lost in how good it felt, your eyes shot open when his tongue went inside your mouth and met yours, sending a powerful wave of electrifying pleasure straight down to your core.

trying to muffle your moans to not stroke his ego was extremely difficult, especially when his hard cock keeps on rubbing your already sensitive clit through your panties and pants.

the friction was driving you mad, making you pull at his hair aggressively, as you grind on him harder and faster to make the most out of the pleasure.

you could say the same for satoru, his hands traveled down your body, landing on your ass to squeeze it firmly. he pushed you down even more, needy, as he thrusts his hips upward to grind his swollen cock on your pussy.

you looked at satoru, his beautiful blue eyes were lidded, and focused only your face—as if he was trying to memorize the face that you were making.

"y/n... shit... more, please..." a deep groan escaped his lips as you roll your hips hard against his. "ngh, please do that again."

"l-let's make this quick, satoru, a-ah... i'm pretty close." you tried to say coherently, genuinely just wanting to reach your own release get this over with.

without hesitation, satoru starts thrusting his hips fast, picking up his pace. "as you wish. i'm close, too." he breathes, letting out a shaky sigh.

taking a close look at satoru, you see that his beautiful eyes were lidded, and focused only your face—as if he was trying to memorize the face that you were making.

the fact that you can make the arrogant and self-centered fuck boy, gojou satoru, beautiful man and strongest jujutsu sorcerer, pleading for pleasure is incredibly satisfying, and he hasn't even entered you yet. you both still have your clothes on, and you were only dry humping him, yet he was so fucking close to coming undone.

you closed your eyes in ecstasy, biting your bottom lip to at least try to muffle an incredibly loud moan, walls squeezing at nothing as you felt yourself come undone, wetness definitely soaking your panties.

satoru rubs himself onto you harder to make sure you ride your high to the fullest, his own thrusts losing rhythm, as he reaches for his own climax.

"you feel s-so good- ahh... fuck..." desperately surging forward rapidly a couple more times, he groans deeply as his seed shot out of his cock, and onto staining his loose white jogging pants.

it takes you a full minute to recover from what just happened. then you untangle your legs from his waist to stand up in front of him. "uh... bye?"

you turn around, heading straight for the door.

satoru follows you with his gaze. "that was great, y/n."

looking back, the two of you only stared at each other. "you didn't even get to put it in yet, satoru." you said, a smug smile tugging at the corner of your lips.

a blush blossomed on his face, embarrassment evident. "shut up, y/n."

"okay. bye."

"wanna do it again?"

"no."

and then you dashed out of the room, sick feeling of regret suddenly starting to bubble over your head.

but at the same time, you also feel sick at the fact that maybe you actually liked it.

#gojou satoru #jjk #jujutsu kaisen x reader #gojou satoru x reader #gojo satoru x reader #gojo x reader #satoru x reader #omg what have i done #pls i might rewrite this #like rlly #literal word vomit #just a spur of the moment..... bcs gojou satoru........... !!!!#this rlly escalated fast LOL #might edit

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ninjago-bingo · 3 years ago

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final month recap

wow, everyone. we’re here. we’ve made it. we’re reached the end of our bingo time, and i’m absolutely floored by the sheer creative output that i’ve seen over these last four months. everyone, take a moment to give yourself a pat on the back!!! no matter if you made 1 piece or 10, there’s now a work of art out there in the world that wasn’t there before. and truly, that’s super heccing rad no matter how you look at it.

so let’s celebrate! for this recap, we have a total of 20 new pieces, bringing the total amount of ninbingo pieces up to 50. in the span of four months, this little event has created 50 individual works (five of them in the last day!) holy cow ya’ll.

i’m putting out this recap now, but don’t worry, it’s not the end yet! any submissions made to the end of the 30th still count and this post will be updated accordingly :D

fic:

all the things i’ve never done by @sa-you-na-ra. tumblr || prompts: competition and teasing

It’s always a funny thing when the ninja realize new things about each other. Even though living with each other meant they had to see each other all day, there were still small habits or actions that amused the others.

(mod comments: all these little interactions made me smile so much :D looking forward to the rest!)

error 404: answer not found by @m-aster-of-spinjitzu. tumblr || prompt: memories

Akita and Zane talk after the battle in ‘Awakenings’. The conversation… doesn’t go as either of them expect.

(mod comments: the nuances in this fic are fantastic! also Akita is always a win :D)

Five times kai was a good brother by @/master-of-fluff. tumblr || ao3 || prompts: nightmare and brother

I'm writing kai centric stuff again.

(mod comments: kai IS the big bro of the team!!! i support him all the way!!)

How Garmadon became a chauffeur by @master-of-fluff. tumblr || ao3 || prompt: driving

"um...Kai? Don't you think we should go Slower?" Garmadon asked nervously trying not to panick as they raced down the road at what had to be over the speed limit.

(mod comments: who let Kai drive? no but honestly this is canon alskdfj)

little things by @/rosiehunterwolf. tumblr || ao3 || ffn.net || prompts: hugs and crying.

"Enjoy the little things in life, for one day you'll look back and realize they were the big things." -Kurt Vonnegut

Lloyd’s tired of being left behind. How is he meant to be the green ninja when he always has to work harder, train better, and wait longer to go on missions with his team? He wants nothing more than to be their equal.

At least, that’s what he thought he wanted.

(mod comments: a post-ep-18 resolution scene? SIGN ME UP!)

Neither Snow Nor Rain by @fangirltakesall. tumblr || ffn.net || prompt: post-fight

After their return from the Never Realm and all its troubles, Zane is quiet and Nya is incredibly worried. A call to action to a peculiar sort of battle might be enough to change both of those things.

(mod comments: the concept of these two on their own mission together is just so good! excited to see how their dynamic plays out!!)

Never Put Off Until Tomorrow by @/rosiehunterwolf. tumblr || ao3 || ffn.net || prompts: video games and chores

…what can be done today, yada, yada, yada, we all know the saying. So do the ninja- when Master Wu is drilling it into their heads every minute of every day, it’s kind of hard to forget.

Naturally, it only takes them a week (and the biggest new video game in Ninjago) to do so.

(mod comments: this is so in character that it’s frustrating lol. also Pixal ftw!!)

oh take me back to the start by @/rosiehunterwolf. tumblr || ao3 || ffn.net || prompts: comfort and 3 am

The past should be left in the past. Or, at least, that’s what Jay keeps telling himself. Nadakhan is gone. It’s not logical to still be afraid. But he is, and now everything that he left behind suddenly feels like it’s never going to be the same again.

Cole isn’t so convinced.

(mod comments: Cole is truly the man we all deserve in our lives.)

On Our Own by @redefine-your-identity. tumblr || prompt: home

It’s been a few weeks since Kai and Nya’s parents disappeared without a trace. Needless to say, they’re struggling.

(mod comments: OU C H no poor babies 😭 the relationship dynamic here is great!)

orange and gold by @/m-aster-of-spinjitzu. tumblr || prompt: cooking

...I just need more Cole and Vania content, they seem like they'd be great friends.

Basically it's just 'Cole goes to visit her there, they almost burn down the kitchen, and make way too many puns', lol.

(mod comments: I also always need more Vania content!! the puns in this were breadful!)

permafrost by @/rosiehunterwolf. tumblr || ao3 || ffn.net || prompts: loss of control and promise

It’s not like this is the first time this has happened. It’s not like none of his teammates have ever suffered this kind of guilt and pain. It’s not like Zane himself hasn’t walked through hell before and come out the other side (mostly) in once piece.

Except, this time, it is. It shouldn’t be different, but it is.

(mod comments: super sweet moment between two ninja who deserve more interaction like seriously!!)

Precautionary Tale by @/fangirltakesall. tumblr || ffn.net || prompt: protective

Fighting is different now, and Zane doesn't know why. Yes, he is titanium now, but why should that change anything? It seems to be changing everything, although is all really as it seems?

(mod comments: a great start to a zane-centric fic! interested to see where it goes next :D)

Star-Ninja! by @rosiehunterwolf. tumblr || ao3 || ffn.net || prompts: siblings and competition

What happens when the loveable gremlin the ninja adopted off of the streets introduces them to Starfarer comics?

Chaos ensues, of course.

stuck with you (through bright and blue) by @/rosiehunterwolf. tumblr || ao3 || ffn.net || prompt: protective

Kai only wants two things: to protect Lloyd, and to give him the best birthday ever. Unfortunately, Lloyd seems hell-bent on making that as difficult as possible. Kai’s always prided himself on achieving the impossible, but dealing with human emotions is much more complicated than beating up Garmadon’s generals or shooting enemies with fire, as he quickly learns. Movie!verse

(mod comments: happy birthday lloyd!! look at him getting the love he deserves uwu)

Take a walk in the rain. by @/master-of-fluff. tumblr || ao3 || prompt: rain

Cole had always loved the rain, the way it smelled, the way it felt on his skin, and especially the mud! Whenever it rained his Mother would put on his rain coat and boots And they'd both go out and splash around in the puddles and make mud cakes and do all sorts of things.

(mod comments: this fic made me smile a lot :D loved the way it was arranged!)

the hues of an empty sky by @/m-aster-of-spinjitzu. tumblr || prompt: crying

Missing memories, or having two of them for one moment - not quite the same, but if there’s one thing Jay’s leant over the last few weeks, it’s that literally nothing makes sense anymore.

Or, some Skybound aftermath, Zane actually expressing emotions about his memory switch being turned off for all those years, and what was supposed to be a ‘they tell everyone about the erased timeline’ fic, but it turned into a 'two characters who barely interact on screen talk at like one am in the morning, and don’t actually tell the other what exactly they’re alluding to the whole time’ fic that I wrote at like one am-

(mod comments: Skybound resolution? SIGN ME THE HECK UP YES)

The Make-Cole-Realize-How-Much-We-Love-Him Competition by @21st-century-ninja. tumblr || ao3 || prompts: bets and competition

Jay and Kai share a horrified look. “He really doesn’t get it,” Jay says.

Kai shakes his head. “We need to show him somehow.”

“Show me what?” Cole asks, exasperated again.

“How much we love you!” Kai exclaims. “Somehow, it’s not getting through your thick skull that we want to sit next to you because you’re you, so I’m gonna have to just prove it to you.”

(mod comments: a silly little movie fic!)

twitter was a mistake by @/21st-century-ninja. tumblr || ao3 || prompts: teasing and birthday

Kai 🔥 @flaminhotninja ☑

so who was gonna tell me that Jay used to be a game show host huh

🌺✨ the Gift of Jay ✨🌺 @zaptrap ☑

Replying to @flaminhotninja

NO WHO SHOWED YOU

(mod comments: twitter was a mistake)

two halves of a broken whole by @/rosiehunterwolf. tumblr || ao3 || ffn.net || prompts: scars and post-fight

The Sons of Garmadon have been defeated. Garmadon is in prison. The city has been saved.

In the aftermath of the battle, Nya is more than ready to take a much-needed break. But the life of a ninja is messy. Recovery is never that simple. Although the wounds may have healed, the scars still remain.

Zane’s scars seem to match up, though. And maybe together, they can begin to heal.

(mod comments: aggressive care is my jam, and this is it!)

wait by @rosiehunterwolf. tumblr || ao3 || ffn.net || prompts: home and memories

Lloyd’s not so great at being patient. It’s not his fault though- maybe he would be better at it if waiting didn’t always end up being so disappointing- if people actually kept their promises. But this time’s going to be different, he knows it. His father will come back for him. And Lloyd’s going to wait.

As long as it takes.

(mod comments: baby. baby boy. baby. protecc him plz.)

#ninbingo #recap #long post #but i don't want to hide anyone's work yk #ninjago #ninjago fic

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rose7420 · 4 years ago

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Hey!! Would I be able to request another Loki story? :) I was thinking about this: A teen (who can shrink) just became a member of the Avengers and adores Loki, but holy heck she's way too scared to just start talking to him, so she shrinks down to like 3 inches and secretly watches him from a shelf in his room as he practices magic at night (when she shrinks, she can't change back to her original size for a few hours, so that's why she only goes to his room at night). She sits on the edge of a shelf (that's where she always sits) and as she gets up to leave, she looks up to see Loki slowly walking over towards her. She ends up losing her balance and falls off the shelf. Loki catches her and sees how shaken up, but she calms down eventually, but now her fangirl side (haha) comes out, and now she starts to stutter A LoT and Loki just finds her shyness adorable. He decides to keep her with him until morning, and he just admires how tiny she is. Loki lets her sleep on a pillow next to him, but she ends up getting scared so she runs over to Loki and climbs up onto his chest. She goes over to the crook in his neck and lays down, and Loki is trying so hard not to go "Aweee" :D (I am so sorry that this is long...I just adore the way you write!!)

A request from @lokiismyhubby ! I loved writing this so I hope you like it!

<><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><>

Y/N has an adoration for a particular god. Tall and lean, dark hair framing angular cheekbones and very mysterious. She finds no romantical interest in his person, but rather a want for companionship.

A few months ago she was introduced to the Avengers, they found her skillset one of importance. Possessing the ability to shrink, she is an excellent choice for stealth missions usually accompanied by none other than the God of Mischief himself.

She finds interest in his magic, his ability to create magnificent illusions, and tricks he occasionally holds up his sleeve. Always at a loss of words when in his presence, looking down at the floor to avoid his gaze, and when they do exchange words she is of course a stuttering mess.

That’s why Y/N finds herself on Loki’s shelf located in his bedroom. She doesn’t hold the courage to begin talking to him in casual conversation when they are not working together on a mission. She figures if she watches him from a distance of his unknowing maybe she can muster the courage to initiate a conversation.

She stands currently at three inches high and will stay like that for a while. The downside part of her ability restricts her from growing back to her original height for hours.

Tonight, Loki paces back and forth practicing another illusion. The green of his magic glowing bright every time the illusion changes. She watches with wonder at how he so easily forms the illusion in his palms. After thirty minutes of staring with infatuation, she decides she should get some sleep.

She carefully walks to the edge of the shelf, cautiously watching where Loki stands in the room. Her toes hang right over the edge ready to jump to the shelf below when Loki starts walking towards her. His steps make the shelf tremble beneath her feet. She tries to squat down creating a more balanced position yet she still ends up falling. A small yelp escapes her lips as she tumbles towards the unforgiving ground.

Certain she is in her last moments of life, she is surprised to land on such a soft surface.

That surface being Loki’s palm. Her eyes go wide with fear and her face red from embarrassment. Loki’s pale face looms above her, his green orbs staring straight into her soul.

“I was wondering when you’d finally decide to leave. I didn’t expect you to be so clumsy, especially when you are at such a small size little one.” His voice vibrates her tiny form. She feels so vulnerable and delicate sitting in his palm like so. She is certain no physical harm will come to her, yet, she is a bit afraid of what Loki will say of her being in his room.

“I’m not usually clumsy b-but y-you’re steps kinda made it hard to keep my b-balance. It kinda felt like a-an earthquake was happening.” Y/N stutters out.

“I see...Are you harmed at all? I imagine such a drop must feel very daunting in this form?’ Loki asks worriedly his eyes flicking over her minute frame. Y/N shakes her head.

“Good, how much longer until you are free of this size?” Y/N is taken aback by the question. She never noticed that he had paid attention to the times she had to spend at this height. Usually, after missions, he would offer a gracious palm to her shrunken self asking if she would like to return to her quarters. She rarely accepted not wanting to seem like a child.

“Um, p-probably several h-hours, but if you could just bring me back to the r-room that would be okay with me,” Y/N says looking up at Loki.

“Nonsense, you can stay with me for the rest of the night. Only if you feel comfortable?” She nodded her little head again and held on to his ring finger when he started towards his bed.

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Loki tried to resist the smile forming on his face. He would never admit it out loud but secretly he found Y/N adorable at this size. He had been aware of her presence in his room for weeks now but never has confronted her. The girl interested him and he longed to know more about her history and her ability. But he also had a protective sense over her, especially when she stood smaller than his thumb. Her quiet, shy nature made him want to keep her in his pocket to shield her from the brutal world. He didn’t doubt her abilities, he was just worried about her wellbeing in this form, in any form.

He felt Y/N hugging his ring finger with a surprisingly strong grip as he began walking. Tiny hands gripping the sensitive skin between his fingers made his digits twitch minutely. Fluffing a pillow, he gently sets her down onto the soft, squishy surface. It barely gives beneath her weight.

“T-thank you.” She says shyly. “Your welcome dear, please tell me if you need anything else,” Loki replies.

As Y/N drifts asleep, Loki watches from above (in a non-creepy way) the gentle ins and outs of her breathing, little snores reaching his ears. He is fascinated by the shrunken human, how something so small can even exist. She looks so tiny on the white surface of the pillow, vulnerable almost. He aches to reach out and hold her in a protective hand, shielding her from the horrible things this world has to offer.

Later on, Loki is on the brink of sleep when he feels a weak bump on the side of his ribcage. He hears pitiful whimpers coming from the sensation near his middle. Before he can sit up to determine the cause he feels something attempting to climb up onto his person. Y/N.

She tries once again to reach his chest, yet, fails falling back with a squeak to the bedsheets. He doesn’t sit up all the way but raises his head off the pillow to gain a better look. She stands up again, ready to attempt another climb when he delicately reaches down circling his fingers around her form, boosting her to the surface of his chest.

“Are you alright little one?” Loki asks. He watches as she nods then says: “I-I didn’t have the best of d-dreams, and I w-was kinda c-cold.” She says wrapping her arms around herself.

“Why didn’t you wake me up before attempting to mountain climb my dear?” Loki asks with a smirk.

“I didn’t w-want to be a bother. And I thought I-I could do it on my own. I didn’t expect you to be so b-big.” She admitted blushing.

His heart drops with sadness at her words. “Oh my little Y/n, you could never be a bother. Please come wake me up next time you have unpleasant dreams or need a hand.”

He watches the smile form on her face warming his heart and soul. She walks towards the center of his chest, her steps so tiny that they are almost imperceptible, and lays down. He brings a hand up to his chest, lightly laying it on top of her form.

“Sleep well little one” Loki whispers. Before he finally drifts off he thinks: “Perhaps there is a life worth living on this horrendous planet.”

#giant/tiny #gt loki #gt #loki oneshot #Loki #tiny #shrunk #marvel g/t #tiny reader

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softyoongiionly · 5 years ago

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Fear and Dumplings: Chapter Sixteen

(GIF does not belong to me, my friend sent it to me over text! If anyone knows who made it, please let me know :) )

Confronting your fears for a final grade sounds unappealing but, with Yoongi as your partner, things might not be so bad.

Summary: You’re in your final semester at University when your Abnormal Psychology professor assigns you a partnered project surrounding your greatest fears. Lucky for you, your partner just so happens to be a cute boy named Min Yoongi.

Pairing: Min Yoongi x Reader

Genre: Underground Rapper! Yoongi, Soft!!! Yoongi, Fluff!!!, College! Yoongi, Sub! Yoongi

Word Count: 8.5k

A/N: the love I have for this man is absolutely ridiculous. I have missed this series so much. I hope you love what I’ve done with the place ;) This is such an important chapter that I’ve been planning for the longest time. I hope you like it and, if you do: please please let me know!

NOTE: ALL BOLDED WORDS INDICATE WHEN CHARACTERS ARE SPEAKING KOREAN

Warnings for this Chapter: ok here we go...(TRIGGER WARNING)

minor angst, mentions of anxiety, mentions of criminal activity, mentions of bad parenting and abuse, mentions of trauma and related consequences, language, drug use, smut (holy heck the smut is ALOT).

Chapter Sixteen: The Past and The Present

You’ve never seen Yoongi angry before

Frustrated? Yes.

Annoyed? Often.

Stressed? Aren’t we all?

But, never angry.

He is pissed and, he has a perfectly good reason to be.

A short phone call from his dear friend Sejin left him flushed and furious.

The reason being? Sejin has just informed Yoongi that due to a recent rent increase, Sejin can no longer afford to keep SoundCrowd open.

“We’re going to figure this out ok? This isn’t over. I’ll talk to you later...”

The two of you had been watching a movie when he called and, your finger finally moves from the pause button as he hangs up his call.

You don’t think you’re going to be finishing it tonight.

“Yoongi-“

“What the fuck?” His voice is sharp, the fury clear in his rhetorical question as he turns to you, “What the fuck?”

Your hand twitches with the urge to touch him, to soothe him in some way but, Yoongi pushes himself off the couch by the time you try.

“I- I’ve been going to that building for 10 years. Sejin always pays his rent on time, he won’t even eat sometimes just to make sure his bills are paid and, this?? This is how they repay him? Are they serious? How can they just kick him to the side like this? What is he supposed to do? Fu- fuck what am I supposed to do?” Yoongi exhales, raking a hand through his hair as he seems to search helplessly around the room for answers.

Yoongi was supposed to work for Sejin after he graduated.

“Babe, I’m so sorry I- his landlord can’t just do that right? That doesn’t make any sense.” You offer, biting your lip as a humorless laugh leaves Yoongi’s lips.

“Of course he can, that’s what people like him do right? They gotta make their money. Who gives a shit about this guy and his livelihood? As long as he’s filling his pockets and, collecting his checks- he doesn’t give a single fuck about people like Seijin.”

Yoongi is blistering.

He isn't raising his voice at you but, the intensity of his emotions is getting the better of him.

“This isn’t right. There’s gotta be something we can do to help him, we can talk to Jin maybe? His dad’s a lawyer and-”

“I have to go. I’m gonna go down there and, see if I can talk to the landlord. I have money in savings, I don’t know- maybe he’ll take a bribe or something.” Yoongi interrupts you, completely disregarding your presence all together as he starts to grab his keys.

You don’t want to admit it but, his behavior is hurting your feelings.

You know he’s upset and, you want to respect that but, he’s closing himself off.

Just like he used to...

“Well, let me get my shoes on and I’ll come. You shouldn’t go alone and you shouldn’t have to pay this asshole off. We just need to-”

“I don’t need your help Y/N.” Yoongi’s tone is final, leaving no room for negotiation as his words hit you right in the gut, “I’ll text you later. I’m sorry about the movie.”

With your mouth parted in shock, all you can do is nod as your boyfriend disappears through your front door.

You can honestly say it’s the first time that Yoongi’s ever hurt your feelings.

Like, really really hurt your feelings.

Like, now you’re crying on the couch thinking about why you just became the scapegoat for his frustration.

It’s normal for people to get short when they are upset but, you can’t seem to understand why he treated you that way.

You thought you were passed all of this but apparently, you were wrong.

Part of you is telling yourself not to take it personally.

Whilst the other part of you is wondering why he’s still shutting you out.

Even after everything you’ve been through...

You decide to give him some space.

He’s only human.

Sometimes, we need time to process things on our own.

The sinking feeling in your stomach doesn’t leave you though and, you try and busy yourself with a few household chores before eventually succumbing to the sadness you feel and crying again.

It be like that.

You sent him a text shortly after he left that read:

You: I’m sorry if I pushed a little too hard. Please let me know if/when you need anything. I love you.

He still hasn’t responded.

In an effort to thwart the flurry of emotions in your heart, you end up falling asleep on the couch, hoping that he would respond by the time you wake up.

Instead, you are awoken by him calling you.

“Hello?” You can hear the grogginess in your voice and, Yoongi picks up on it immediately.

“Did I wake you?”

“Yeah, sorry I took a little nap after I cleaned up.”

Your hand is over your mouth as you cover up the sound of your yawn whilst Yoongi rushes out his reply.

“I’m the one who should be apologizing. I can’t believe I talked to you like that. I’m r-really sorry. I was so angry and I shouldn’t have snapped at you.” His voice is tighter as if he’s staving off his emotions and, it makes you wanna cry a little bit, “Then I just left? I feel like such a dick...I just didn’t know what to do. I just wanted to go and, I wasn’t thinking.”

“I get it, you just found out some really shitty news. I don’t blame you for being angry at all but, it-” You take a deep breath, attempting to reign in your hurt a little bit before continuing, “it did hurt that you just left like that. I would have given you space if you needed it, I just wish you would have told me instead of shutting me out.”

You can hear him sniffle on the other end of the line.

He’s a little devasted that he hurt you but, he isn’t going to make that the focal point of this conversation.

He just wants to make it right.

“You’re right. I’m so sorry jagiya. I just freaked out...”He sniffles again, the rawness in his voice apparent, “I’m still freaking out and instead of letting you support me, I left and now I feel like an idiot.”

You wipe your eyes, nodding throughout the duration of his sentence, “You're not an idiot at all. I’m still here and, I’m willing to figure this out with you. I just need you to let me ok? I want to help. Where are you right now?”

“I’m at my house. I talked to Sejin for awhile and, I guess he said the landlord is coming by next week to discuss the contract with him. He asked me to be there as a witness and, if you’re alright with it, I would really like it if you came too...”

“Of course.” You smile softly, “Do you want-”

“Can you come over?” Yoongi’s voice cracks finally as you hear him break down on the other end of the line.

Your heart follows suit as you immediately stand up and, head to your bedroom.

“I’m on my way.”

----------------

“Come here.” You whisper as your boyfriend opens his bedroom door, pulling him against your chest.

He’s dressed in a hoodie and his boxers, his hair completely disorganized due to the amount of time he’s probably messed with it.

“Jagi, I’m really sorry.” He’s all choked up when he buries his face in your neck and, you’re quick to rub tenderly at his lower back.

“Hey- I forgive you ok? Everyone has their moments baby, don’t be so hard on yourself.” You kiss the side of his face, kicking the door shut before ushering him towards the bed.

“I’m so scared...” He’s whispering now, his voice barely audible as he seems to cling onto the material of your t-shirt, “I don’t know what I’m gonna do. I don’t know how I’m gonna help him.”

Tilting his chin, you level with him, “We’re going to go there next week and, talk to this guy and, see what we can work out. The city instituted a law three months ago stating that rent increases have to be preapproved by the tenant, the landlord and, the property association. That’s what I was trying to tell you before you left.”

Yoongi winces, sighing as he shakes his head, “I can’t tell you how sorry I am. I just-” He glances towards you, a bit of apprehension in his eyes, “I’m not used to having someone around when shit like this goes down. I’m still really bad at relying on people and trusting them with my feelings. All I wanted to do was cry and, I didn’t want you to see that.”

Placing a hand on his, you attempt to lock eyes with him, “Yoongi, I’m your girlfriend. I love you and, I’m not just in this for the good times. I’m in this for the bad times too. I get that it’s your instinct to close yourself off and handle things yourself but, if you want support I’m always here for you.”

Yoongi pulls you in for a hug then, tucking his face into your neck. He takes a deep breath but, he says nothing.

He just holds you.

The silence is natural and holds no expectation.

You’d hug him all night if he needed you to.

Finally, Yoongi does speak and although he could pour his heart out to you right now, he decides to stick with the words that mean the most.

“I love you too.”

The two of you end up falling asleep together shortly after that.

Yoongi’s head is on your chest and the sensation of running your fingers through his hair is enough to lull you into a comfortable slumber.

Despite the stress of the day, you both sleep through the night.

Sleeping next to Yoongi brings you an immense amount of comfort.

It just feels right.

You wish you could sleep next to him every night.

The next morning when you awake, you realize very quickly that you’re alone.

Yoongi doesn’t appear to be anywhere in sight and in your slightly worried state, you decide to stumble out of bed to look for him.

“I can pick up for you if you want, you look like shit.”

“Thanks, that’s exactly what I wanna hear right now.”

“You know what I mean. Hyung, she’s not gonna care, I don’t know why you’re freaking out about this.”

“You don’t know that.”

“No I don’t but, it’s Y/N. She’s doesn’t come across as the judgmental type. I do think it’s kinda weird you haven’t told her yet though, that might be the only thing she’ll have an issue with...”

“That’s why I’m worried. I feel like after everything we’ve been through, I should have been able to tell her this by now...”

“Why haven’t you?”

“I don’t like talking about it.”

“The weed or your parents?”

“Both. I mean, I don’t know- the weed isn't that bad I guess but, I don’t want her to feel like I lied to her you know?”

“You didn’t lie. You guys just started dating. I’m sure there are plenty of things that you don’t know about her.”

“That’s what I’m afraid of- I feel like everything is always about me. I feel like I never ask about her...”

You know it’s wrong to eavesdrop but, you feel frozen in place, compelled by your own curiosity.

You have a million questions running through your head.

“I have to think about Sejin right now. I’ll smoke later on after I’ve had a chance to talk with her or something. I don’t know. She’s probably up right now, I should go check on her.”

“Take care Hyung, let me know if you need anything.”

Yoongi makes good on his plans to check on you and, thankfully you make it back to the bedroom before he realizes that you were listening in on his conversation.

The rest of the morning goes as planned.

After grabbing coffee, Yoongi heads to SoundCrowd to ensure that Sejin doesn’t have an eviction notice on his door.

He doesn’t say much on the drive there; he merely holds your hand tightly on the center console, occasionally brushing his thumb over the back of your knuckles.

It’s a little unnerving and the confrontational part of you wishes to break the silence but, you decide that now isn't really the time to bring up Yoongi’s conversation with Hoseok.

Thankfully, Sejin’s door remains free of an eviction notice and, Yoongi visibly lets out a sigh of relief at the sight.

You’re assuming the text he begins sending is to Sejin but, you don’t allow your gaze to linger long enough to find out.

Upon pulling away from the studio, he lets out a breathy sigh before finally speaking up

“What are you doing this weekend?”

You cock your head, “This weekend as in tomorrow? Or this weekend as in next weekend?”

Yoongi’s lips twitch at your question, “This weekend as in tomorrow.”

“I was just planning on getting everything ready for graduation. I have a tenant coming to look at my apartment in three weeks so I figured I should probably attempt to scrub the spaghetti stain off the back of the fridge...”

He chuckles warmly and shakes his head, “Aside from explaining how you managed to get spaghetti on the back of the fridge, I was wondering if you wanted to uh- go somewhere with me.”

“Somewhere as in?”

“Daegu.”

Your heart skips a beat then, wondering exactly what brought on his sudden invitation.

With parted lips, you attempt to answer him immediately but, your words fail you.

Yoongi’s teeth find a spot on his lower lip whilst he pulls out of his parking spot.

He can sense your confusion and he knows he can’t get away with asking you back to his hometown without an explanation.

“I need to go see my brother. He-” Yoongi sighs, glancing toward you, “He might be able to help Sejin if I let him know what’s going on.”

This only adds to your list of questions but, thankfully your brain hones in on the key part of this conversation:

“You want me to meet your brother?”

Yoongi hears the sincerity in your tone and it pulls his attention towards you.

“I do. If you’re comfortable with it, of course.”

Squeezing his hand a little tighter, you nod, a small smile forming on your lips, “I’m more than comfortable with it. I would love to meet your brother. When were you planning on leaving?”

Yoongi’s heart sings with your acceptance but, the only evidence of this is a small smile that emerges on his lips.

“I was gonna leave tomorrow. My brother has uh- he has miles on this airline I can use and, theres more than enough for you too. I know it’s last minute but-”

“I love last minute.” You cut him off, clasping your hands together, “I just need to go back to my apartment to pack and feed Marizpan. I’ll text Jimin and let him know that I’ll be gone this weekend. Does your brother like anything from our area? Should we bring him something?”

Yoongi’s raspy laughter fills the confines of the car as he shakes his head, “I should have known that you’d be down for this kind of thing. If I was in your position, I’d be having a heart attack right now.”

You smile at the sound of his laugh, “Oh I’m sure the panic will set in shortly. But honestly, I’m more focused on the fact that you want me to meet your brother. It means a lot to me that you want me there.”

He squeezes your hand again and, you take a moment to admire the way he looks while he’s driving. Messy black hair, eyes slightly puffy from all the emotion, lips in desperate need of chapstick (and a kiss) and, his long spindly fingers carefully handling the wheel.

He’s truly out of this world.

“It means a lot that you want to be there.” He retorts but, there is something amiss within his gaze and you can’t help but remember the conversation you overheard earlier.

There is a beat or two of silence before the two of you break it at the exact same time.

“There’s something I-”

“Hey I-”

“Wait you go first.”

“No, I’m sorry. You go...” You insist, your heartrate picking up uncomfortably in your chest.

Yoongi sighs, dark eyes flitting over to you once or twice before he seems to hyperfocus on the road in front of him.

“There’s something, well- there are a few things I need to tell you before we go.”

Upon glancing away from him and back towards the streets in front of you, you notice that he’s heading towards your apartment.

Part of you is glad that the two of you don’t have to separate for the duration of the weekend but, another (larger) part is very nervous about the information Yoongi has yet to share.

Yoongi takes your silence as an invitation to continue but, he doesn’t exactly know where to start.

“There’s kind of a lot that you don’t know about me. It’s nothing I’ve hid intentionally but, I was waiting until it made sense to tell you I guess...” He rakes a free hand through his hair before a rather noticeable tightness arrests his features, “My brother is the only member of my family I still talk to but, it’s not just because they don’t approve of my music.”

You keep your hand firmly entangled with his and with the slight shift in his tone, you reassuringly thumb over his knuckles.

“Uh it’s kind of a lot to explain but- um...” His mouth hangs open as he hesitates between words. Despite the fact that you’re 2 minutes from your apartment, Yoongi looks eagerly at an alleyway, “I’m sorry, do you care if I pull over? I don’t think I can talk about this while I’m driving and, I just really need to get this out because, I’m kind of scared that you’re going to be mad at me and I-”

“Hey- hey...Yoongi it’s ok.You can pull over baby, there’s an alley right here.” You turn in your seat so you can get a proper look at him as he quickly zooms between the ramen shop and the liquor store.

You’ve never seen him look so nervous before and, it’s starting to freak you out a little bit.

He attempts to draw in a shaky breath through his nose as he hastily puts his car in park. For a moment, he seems to gather his thoughts, lips pursing in contemplation whilst he wipes a hand over his face.

At last, he turns slightly to unbuckle his seatbelt before he finally allows his eyes to flit to your face.

You shift again so you’re mostly turned towards him and squeeze his hand once more to encourage him to continue.

“My parents didn’t just kick me out because they found out I was doing music. They kicked me out because I refused to join the family business-” He gathers the courage to look you dead in the eye because, despite his fear, he knows you deserve that level of respect, “and the family business is the within the largest criminal empire Daegu has ever seen.”

Your heart seems to stall in your chest then, your throat drying up with shock as you attempt to take in what he’s saying.

He brings your hand closer to him, wishing desperately that he could guarantee your presence after his explanation.

But he knows he can’t.

“My parents run a counterfeit operation that basically operates as a gang. They don’t call themselves that but that’s what it is. They produce fake currency, participate in insider trading, they steal, they lie, they’ve-” He swallows, subconciously bringing your hand closer to him once again, “-killed. When I turned 15, my father told me that I’d have to start training to take over but, after everything I had seen. I knew I didn’t want to.”

“When I told you my parents kicked me out, I wasn’t lying but, I didn’t exactly tell you the whole story. I told you that when they found my lyrics, they freaked out on me, which they did but, it was only after they had spent 6 months trying to bribe me into training.” He licks his lips, his eyes still trained on you as they try and decipher the thoughts running through your head. The truth is, your mind is completely blank at the moment.

“They bought me everything I wanted: cars, clothes, jewelry, they had another wing added to our house for me; they tried everything. I was considering it for a while, my parents didn’t start their operations until I was 9 or 10. I spent the first decade of my life in poverty until things began to turn around. At the time, I didn’t know why but, I figured it out when I was starting high school. My parents had gone insane with power. They got my entire family involved, even my brother. I didn’t blame them at the time; we were so poor our whole life and then suddenly we were rich. I didn’t want it to end but, then I realized- what the cost of our wealth really was.” Yoongi’s a bit breathless as the words just seem to tumble off of his tongue but, he’s unsure how coherent he really sounds.

Nevertheless, he continues.

He wants to get it over with already.

“One night, when I was sneaking back in through the front gates, I heard something that would solidify my choice.” Yoongi swallows, his hand tightening almost painfully within yours, “My parents must have been on the phone with one of their allies or something but all I heard was a direct order coming from my father ‘kill them all’ he said, ‘every single one of them.’ The next day when I woke up, my brother was shoving his phone in my face. It was a news article about a homicide in another district. I wanted to throw up. I knew it was them. He knew too. We shared this pain between us but, unlike my brother. I couldn’t keep quiet anymore. I had to say something.” His voice is growing unsteady with every passing word and although you have a million questions, all you want him to know is that you’re still here.

“When I confronted my father, he went crazy on me. He had been up for a few days, probably strung out on something and, he beat the shit out of me. That’s when he destroyed my lyrics. He left everything else untouched but my laptop and my pages. He wanted to hurt me in any way he could because, he knew that I wasn’t going to follow in his footsteps. He told me I should be ashamed of myself for accusing them of being involved with the murder but, Y/N-” He’s voice his hoarse now, his sad eyes lined red with emotion as he shoots a desperate look towards you, “It had to be them. It’s the only thing that made sense. After he was finished with me, he told me I had a choice. He said ‘Yoongi, you can either stay here and start contributing to this family or you can disappear with nothing but the clothes on your back.’ So I made my choice. I lived on the streets for awhile until my brother found me one night, he told me about Sejin and tried to set me up with some money but, I wouldn’t take anything from him. Every bit of money my family has, has blood on it. I accepted his offer to live at Sejin’s place and, every thing else I already told you that night at my studio but, I didn’t know how to tell you all of this...I tried to put it all behind me for so long but, now that Sejin is in trouble- I have to go back. My brother left the business too but, he took money with him. He’s loaded and, I know if he knew about Sejin, he’d want to help out. I don’t know- fuck please just tell me what you’re thinking. I know you’re probably mad at me and that’s completely ok- I just didn’t know how to tell you...”

You are honestly shocked by Yoongi’s confession but, you can’t say that you’re mad at him.

You understand that this extremely complicated.

You don’t think you’d necessarily want to share it either.

Looking at your boyfriend now, your heart breaks.

His expression is akin to a man completely torn apart. He looks lost, broken, frightened: everything you don’t want him to be.

You do what comes naturally because, words are not appropriate right now.

Dropping his hand intially alarms him but, when you lean across the center console to pull him against your chest, he can’t help but break down.

He cries.

No, he doesn’t cry- he sobs.

His hands come up to cling to you, the tension in his grip signifying that he’s desperately afraid of letting you go.

With each rigged intake of breath, Yoongi seems to cry harder into your neck, staining the color of your shirt with his tears.

“My life was so miserable Y/N. I didn’t know how to tell you how bad it was- my whole life. I’m sorry I was such a coward. I’m so sorry I- I didn’t know how to say it. I just wanted you to think I was normal.” He cries and with every word, you hold him tighter.

With every word, your heart breaks.

“You are not a coward Min Yoongi. You are the strongest person I know.” You whisper into his ear, teary eyed yourself as you do your best to hold it together.

“I’m so sorry jagiya...” Yoongi cries, his voice nearly dropping to a whisper, the nape of his neck slick with sweat due to the anxiety he feels.

He is still so terrified of losing you.

“You have nothing to be sorry for- look at me...” You command softly, guiding his face out of your neck and cupping it between your palms, “None of this is your fault. I understand why you wouldn’t want to tell me. This is a lot to take in but, baby this isn’t your burden to bear. You aren’t responsible for the choices your parents have made...”

“I don’t come from a good life Y/N. I come from such a horrible family. My family never showed me love, they never showed eachother love. They are bad people and, you deserve more than a man who comes from that. You deserve someone who has a normal family. You deserve more than me...”

“Yoongi, listen to me right now. You are the most incredible man I have ever met. You are smart and brave and selfless and clever and kind and so so special and, I’m not going to sit here and listen to you punish yourself for your parent’s mistakes. They had a beautiful son that they neglected. They created this warped version of yourself that apparently doesn’t deserve love and happiness but that’s bullshit ok?” You’re crying too now because, you want to drive this point home, you want him to know the truth, and believe it.

Everything starts to make sense now.

Yoongi resists affection because he doesn’t think he deserves it.

He’s denied himself happiness so long because, he doesn’t think he’s worth the trouble.

You need him to know that he is.

He’s worth so much more than he realizes.

“It’s such bullshit...” You repeat, kissing between his eyes which still flow steadily with tears, his breathing is still so uneven but, he’s hanging on every word you say, “You deserve everything you want. You deserve to be loved. I’m so sorry you had to live like that. I’m so sorry that they never told you how incredible you are but, that doesn’t make it any less true.”

His face crumbles under the weight of your words, his hands coming up to brush against the outside of yours, “I’m so sorry I didn’t tell you. It wasn’t intentional, you just made me forget how things used to be. I just wanted to pretend like it never happened.”

You understand that.

There are things in your life that you wish you could forget.

Yoongi eases so much of your troubles that you could empathize with his decision to brush all of this under the rug.

You’ve both been basking in the warm glow of your first love that it was easy to forget what life was like before one another.

But it doesn’t mean it never happened.

“The last I heard, my parents had slowed down a bit. They told my brother that they were starting to liquify their assets. I guess he’s getting quite a bit of money from that. It seemed less important when he told me that. I felt like maybe I could just move on but, I realized when I started dating you how much of it really stuck with me. Plus, I felt like I was lying to you. I never want to make you feel like I’m hiding things from you. The only other people that know about this are Namjoon and Hoseok and, Hoseok found out cause he overheard Namjoon and I talking about it.”

You lean forward once again to place a kiss between his eyes before pulling him back into your arms.

“I hear you. You’re not wrong for waiting to tell me. I’m just sorry you had to deal with all of this internal struggle. I think we forget that we’ve only been dating a few months because of how quickly we fell for eachother. There are things you don’t know about me too you know? Nothing as intense as being the offspring of two criminal masterminds buuuuut you know, still...”

Your attempt to slowly lighten the mood works as a small chuckle is felt within the crook of your neck along with the pinching of your hips.

“I want to know everything about you.” He murmurs, wrapping his arms around your waist.

Kissing the side of his head, you smile, “It’s a good thing we have so much time then.”

This finally prompts a smile to appear on his face and, although you can’t see it, you can feel it.

“I love you so much.” Yoongi whispers, placing a kiss on the side of your neck

----------------------------------------

The two of you head back to Yoongi’s house shortly after you pack your things.

Yoongi doesn’t leave your side the entire time, other than to use your bathroom to wash his face and even then, he leaves the door open the whole time.

After your bags are ready to go, the two of you decide that staying at Yoongi’s place is best since he leaves a little closer to the airport.

Yoongi booked your flight whilst you were packing and managed to find a flight leaving at 1:20pm the next day.

He didn’t even look at earlier flights because, there is no way he’s getting up before 9am tomorrow, especially not after everything that’s happened today.

It’s not long before Yoongi is unlocking his front door and as he does, something new graces your senses.

It’s an unmistakeable smell and, immediately Yoongi’s eyes widen as he takes his first breath.

“Yah Hoseok?? Why does it smell like shit in my house?” Yoongi calls and leads you toward the living room.

“I told you I was picking up, and that smell is the sign I got the good shit! Come hit this hyung, its fucking gooood.” Hoseok calls back and immediately you start giggling

“Yeah Yoongi, go hit that.” You tease, his earlier conversation with Hoseok making a lot more sense now, “I didn’t know you smoked weed...”

“Did you tell your girlfriend yet or what?” Hoseok calls again and Yoongi’s cheeks are practically on fire at this point as he braves a glance towards you.

“No but you just did pabo...” Yoongi grumbles as he finally leads the two of you into the living room.

Hoseok and Namjoon are spread out on the couch, there eyes completely bloodshot, heavy with the evidence that they had been smoking for awhile. Namjoon chuckles lowly and shakes his head, “Yah, you’re so fucking loud. How do you have the energy to yell after how much we just smoked?” Namjoon smiles pleasantly at you, raising a hand politely, “Hi, Y/N. How are you?”

You smirk, putting your arm around Yoongi’s shoulders, “Hi guys. I’m good, I’d ask how the two of you were doing but, I think I have my answer.”

Yoongi groans before turning towards you quickly, tugging you so your body is pressed against his, “I was gonna tell you too but-”

“Before he starts groveling at your feet,” Namjoon interrupts, “He stopped smoking when he realized he liked you. He hasn’t done anything since because, he was worried that you wouldn’t like it. He was planning on telling you when he asked you to be his girlfriend, which was literally like a week ago so, I’m sure he was gonna tell you soon. But to answer your question, yes your boyfriend smokes weed. A lot of weed.”

Yoongi anxiously scans your face for any sign of disapproval but, all he gets is a tilted chin a kiss on his lips.

“Wow, you’re cute.”

He furrows his brows, “You’re not mad?”

You giggle as you shake your head, gesturing to the couch, “Yoongi, you’ve met my friends. Taehyung and Jungkook might as well change their names to Jay and Silent Bob...”

“Yooo that’s what I always say about Yoongi and I!” Hoseok cackles, as he points at you, the sound of his voice causing Namjoon to wince.

“Hoseok-ah, lower your voice, you’re ruining my high.” He chuckles before nodding to the table, “See? There you go Hyung, now come over here and smoke this shit with us, you look like you need it.”

Yoongi looks relieved but, he’s still apprehensive, “You promise you’re cool with it? I don’t want to make you uncomfortable...”

Another giggle leaves you lips as you start tugging him towards the couch, setting your bag on the kitchen counter, “It’s really sweet that you’ve considered my feelings in all of this but, smoking weed isn’t a big deal to me. My family smokes all the time. It’s just not for me because, I have baby lungs but, I have no issue with you smoking it.”

“Yahhh that’s good shit right there, see hyung? I told you she’d be chill with it. Now come sit down, I’ll pack a bowl for you.” Hoseok smiles, finally heeding Namjoon’s request and lowering his voice.

A small smile is on your boyfriend’s lips then as he looks towards you once again, “Love you...” He mumbles before pressing a kiss to your cheek.

You nestle into the corner of their couch whilst Hoseok thoughtfully packs the clusters of weed into a solid black, glass pipe.

“Is that my piece?” Yoongi asks with an arched brow and Hoseok merely shrugs

“You havent been using it and this shit was expensive so Joon and I snagged it from you. You can have it back if you’re gonna start smoking again but other than that, I’m keeping it.”

“You can’t keep it, that was his birthday present.” Namjoon grumbles, playfully hitting Hoseok’s thigh.

Yoongi licks his lips as takes a spot next you, mindlessly rubbing his hand over your bended knee, “I want it either way. Don’t take my shit.” He smirks before jerking his head to the pipe, “Let me see it, you’re not packing it right.”

“Right? That’s what I’m saying, he packs it too thin!” Namjoon exclaims, his hand resting on his stomach

“Fuck off, if I pack it so thin, why are you stoned out of your mind right now?”

Namjoon chuckles again, tilting his head in agreement, “Because I haven’t smoked in awhile either, med school fucked my tolerance up.”

Namjoon and Hoseok’s dialogue seems to fade in the background as your attentions hones in on Yoongi.

His black hair is falling in his face while he tries to save the “poor” job Hoseok was doing. He has his tongue poking between his lips whilst he concentrates, his fingers delicately working the weed where he feels it belongs.

He keeps twitching his nose and jerking his head to the side, trying to get his hair out of his face until finally you reach out and tuck the strand behind his ear.

Yoongi instantly grins as you do and turns to the side and playfully snaps his teeth at your fingers.

“Heyyy, I’m trying to help you...” You giggle, “I don’t want you to smoke your hair.”

“I got this.” He assures you before timid eyes land on you once more, “Are you sure you’re good with this?”

“I promise.” You assure him for the millionth time before reaching towards the coffee table to hand him a lighter, “Here.”

Yoongi smirks shyly as he mumbles a thank you before raising the pipe to his lips.

He raises the lighter to the nest of green positioned to his liking before using his thumb to set it on fire. As he inhales deeply, his eyes flutter shut while his chest puffs out with the force of his breath.

Within 10 seconds or so, he’s pulling away, pausing for a second before exhaling a thick cloud of smoke.

“Fuck me...” He chuckle deeply, smoke still rushing out of his lips, “That is good shit. Who did you pick up from?”

“Right?” Hoseok laughs, flopping back against the couch, “It’s one of Jin’s friends, he started growing recently so, I wanted to help him get started. I need to tell him to keep doing what he’s doing.”

Yoongi just nods before using the butt of the lighter to press the bud down. Within a few seconds, he’s lighting up again, the hair you tucked behind his ear quickly falling in his face again.

You really can’t help yourself.

You feel like a such a cliché right now but, there is something so hot about watching Yoongi smoke.

He looks like every bad boy in every single shitty romance novel and, god you can’t help but press your thighs together at the sight.

Yoongi tilts his head back, exposing the long column of his throat as he exhales another hit, a smirk hanging on the end of lips.

His adams apple bobs as he swallows back a cough before slumping against the cushions.

“Here-” He hands the pipe back to Hoseok, “I think I’m good right now, it’s already kicking in.”

You’re practically drooling at the sight of your boyfriend right now but, you don’t want to be too obvious.

Between Namjoon’s observation skills and Hoseok’s bluntness, you’re doomed to be called out if you don’t reign it in.

“I told you hyung, this guy is the new plug. Y/N...” Hoseok holds the pipe up, “Are you sure you don’t want any?”

“No I-” Your voice comes out awfully squeaky and it immediately causes Yoongi to turn his head towards you. Clearing your throat, you continue, “No, I’m good thank you. Can I have some water though? My throat is really dry.”

Yoongi shoots up immediately, “Shit jagi, I’m sorry. I didn’t offer you anything. I’ll get it right now. You sure you want water? I can make you a drink or we have gatorade and some sprite too.”

His eyes are definitely heavier with the slightest tint of red but, they still hold the same bit of attentiveness they always do.

“Water is good babe, thank you.”

Hoseok grins, “Whiiiippppeeeddddd.” He slurs and Namjoon chuckles but, otherwise keeps quiet.

Yoongi merely smirks before heading over to the kitchen to get you a bottle of water.

“You’re being too informal.” He admonishes, still smirking as his face is illuminated by the light from the fridge, “Just one jagi?”

He holds up a bottle of water, his eyes holding a bit more sweetness as he directs his attention towards you.

“One is perfect.” You giggle at their banter, tucking yourself further into the couch, already wishing for Yoongi to be back beside you.

“One is perfect babyyyy...” Hoseok cackles again, the effects of the weed likely increasing his usual nature.

“Shut up.” You laugh again, smacking his shoulder lightly.

“Yah hyung! Your girlfriend is over here smacking me around!” Hoseok yells again despite the fact that Yoongi is literally in the same room.

“Hoseok-ahhhhhh...” Namjoon whines, putting a pillow over his face, “Stop yelling bro, it’s too fucking loud.”

Hoseok is still giggling, despite his hyung’s warnings as Yoongi finally returns from the kitchen.

“Seriously...” He mumbles in agreement as he hands you the water but, as you reach out to take it, he slumps beside you and takes your wrist in his hand,lowering his tone, “Yah, I’m the only one you should be smacking around yeah?”

His eyes are hooded, his lips still upturned in a smirk as he unscrews the cap for you, holding it out to your lips, “Here’s your water jagiya...”

For once, you’re a little speechless but, you take his offer anyway, securing your lips around the water bottle.

His eyes linger as you take a few sips from it before he screws the cap back on for you, setting back on the coffee table.

“You’re bad.” You giggle, impressed by Yoongi’s boldness

He just grins, cat-like as ever, and lays his head in your lap, subtly nuzzling against your thigh.

“This shit is going to put your boyfriend to sleep, Y/N so be prepared to carry his ass off to bed in a bit.” Namjoon comments, smirking almost fondly at his hyung.

“I’m prepared.” You snicker and, just like Yoongi, you lower your voice to a volume just for him, “I thought putting you to sleep was my job?”

With your teasing question, you run your fingers through his hair and much to your delight, a shiver runs down his spine.

He nuzzles further into your thigh, his hand gripping the outside of it whilst he replies, “It still is.”

It’s all he can muster up for now but, you don’t miss the glint in his eyes before they flutter shut.

The TV has been on since you’ve arrived but Hoseok finally changes the channel and, you continue you running your digits through your boyfriends silky locks.

This goes on for quite some time until your touch begins to have an unexpected effect on your boyfriend’s resolve.

Having you play with his hair when he’s sober is amazing/comforting but, it’s intensified due to his intoxication and the sensations are turning him on.

It’s not long until you both end up in his bedroom and as soon as he shuts the door, he’s pressing you up against it.

With a dark chuckle, he’s kissing at your mouth, taking a deep breath as he allows his hands to explore your body.

“God you really know how to get my dick hard don’t you?”

You laugh into his lips, kissing him back eagerly as your hands push his jacket off of his shoulders, “Is your dick hard right now?”

It’s a bullshit question.

You already know he’s hard.

You could tell by the way he walked you awkwardly into his room.

“I don’t know-” He teases, pressing his hips against yours, allowing you to feel the tightness in his jeans, “What do you think?”

Your mouth waters at the feeling of him, your hand quickly travelling down to rub over his dick.

“Fuck-” Yoongi hisses, his head falling forward onto your shoulder.

“You feel hard to me.” You whisper in his ear, nibbling on the shell of it, enjoying the way he trembles for you.

“I’m so sensitive right now- jesus christ.” He mutters, mostly to himself before kissing up your neck.

With his hips pressed to your hand, he brings his heavy gaze to yours, a smirk crawling it’s way onto his lips, “Is this ready for me right now?” He practically coos, sliding his hand from your hip to the ache between your legs, cupping your pussy.

After the past few days he’s had, you don’t have the urge to tease him.

All you want to do is fuck his brains out.

“Mhm...” You hum, kissing at his lips as you slowly begin to back him up towards the bed. “Right now.”

“Yeah?” He chuckles again, his eyes heavier due to the lust and the weed coursing through his body, “Will you come ride this dick for me then?”

Whilst the two of you are talking, you’re tugging at one another’s clothes and, the next thing you know it; you’re both laying naked on Yoongi’s bed.

He’s big hands slide up the outside of your thighs, squeezing roughly once they get to your ask before he continues his verbal assault on your sanity.

“I’m so fucking hard right now. I’m gonna give you so much baby. I’m gonna fill it up until it drips all over my sheets...”

This shit is hitting different.

Yoongi’s never spoken like this before and you’d be lying if you said it set you on fire.

When his head hits the pillow, the onyx tendrils on his head splay messily across the pillowcase.

Licking your lips, you slide your hands up your body, caressing your breasts, brushing your sex along Yoongi’s twitching dick.

“Oh my god, look at you. You’re so fucking pretty c’mere...” He groans, ushering you back down to his lips, kissing you tenderly, “You gon’ ride this dick for me baby? Let me into this pretty pussy of yours?”

“Uh-huh...” You grunt, sucking on his bottom lip, bracing your hands on either side of his head, “I wanna make you cum so hard...”

“Oh jagiyaaa...” He laughs and its that rickety, almost evil kind of laughter that you find so attractive, “That’s the only way you’ve ever made me cum. Your baby is sensitive when he’s high though, so you gotta be careful or I’m gonna cum before you’ve even started...”

Jesus christ.

“You want it gentle then?”

“Nah. I want you to ride it how you want to. It’s your dick isn’t it? You take care of it how you see fit. I just wanna watch and cum inside you.”

His words snap something inside of you and, before you know it, you’re sinking down on his throbbing dick.

Yoongi grins as soon as he feels you, his hands immediately taking purchase on your hips.

“Oh shit, that’s it...” Yoongi’s whimpering but its low and slow and, it fills you with more motivation.

You lean down, brushing your mouth against his, nibbling on the plump flesh of his bottom lip.

“Good?” You whisper as your hands dig into the pillow beside his head.

His dick is made for you, you’re certain of it.

It curves perfectly against the spot inside of you that immediately seems to make you sick with pleasure.

Yoongi's lopsided smirk has yet to fade but he eagerly presses his lips to yours, his hands coming up to secure your face.

He just nods before sliding his tongue into your mouth, brushing slowly against the side of your own, his hips pumping up along with the rhythm you’ve set.

Throughout your lust-driven haze, you feel him pull away, his hand still cupping your cheek.

“This pussy is good. I swear to god, it’s gonna make me lose my shit. Fu-fuck me...” He stutters when you bottom out on him again, your walls fluttering around him sinfully,

He shoots a pleading look your way but, he’s rendered speechless as you increase your pace on him.

“I love when you’re inside of me.” You say because its’ the truth and you never get tired of telling him, “I love when you cum inside of me. You’re the only one who makes me feel this way.”

Yoongi’s mouth parts in awe, his moan getting caught at the back of his throat as his gaze flits eagerly between your thighs.

“Mine...” Yoongi croons in Korean, unable to conjure up a coherent thought.

You know this word though and, you’re prepared with a reponse.

“Yours.” You kiss him again, locking eyes with him once more, “Forever.”

That’s enough to break him.

He’s cumming hard inside of you now, rope after rope of his release painting every inch he can reach, his body tightening with the force of his orgasm.

In spite of his current state, he still manages to rub your clit whilst you chase your own high, confessing his love for you over and over again until the two of you are completely spent.

---------------------------------------

Later on that evening, the two of you decide to sit in the backyard around the fire pit and snuggle up under one of Yoongi’s many throw blankets, relishing in one another.

Pressing a kiss to the backs of your knuckles, Yoongi murmurs some of the things he’s always too afraid to say.

“I hope you know how much you mean to me. I know that things aren’t always easy with me and, I hope that after today, you can understand why. But, I still hope you know...how much I love you.”

His words send butterflies into your stomach as you snuggle closer to him, “I’ve never felt more loved than when I’m with you, Yoongi, even if you don’t say anything. I know.” You kiss his check before tilting his face towards yours, “And I hope, even when you’re having a tough day or a tough week, you know that I have your back. I hope you never have to feel alone or unloved ever again. Because I’ll always be here for you and, I’ll always love you.”

He smiles, gums and all before surging forward to kiss you, his hands delicately brushing against your cheeks.

“Angel.”

It’s all he whispers before kissing you again, pouring his love into each of his movements.

You want to argue with him; you want to tell him that he’s the angel but, instead you smile into his lips as you always do, and just kiss him.

Yoongi decides in that moment that he doesn’t have to do life alone anymore.

He decides that he’s found his team member.

His partner.

His lover.

His soulmate.

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butwhatifidothis · 3 years ago

Text

I did it! Finally fucking did it! I 100% the support log for 3H….Holy shit, that took longer than I was expecting, lol.

(Long rant, so heads up.)

I came in thinking “Oh they finally time-locked the supports, so I don’t have to have the damn cursor mocking me every time I open the menu like in Awakening and Fates, hurr hurr”. No no no no no. At least for Awakening and Fates, it was on my dumb ass for pressing the S-support and saving when I knew I shouldn’t. First off, if they wanted us to regain supports for Byleth in NG+, why the heck are supports for characters like Edelgard, Rhea, Dorothea and Lindhart locked? I don’t mean time-locked like the post-TS supports in a regular playthrough, I mean deadass “you can’t buy this, period” locked. “Oh it’s because you haven’t advanced that far in the story yet”. I can buy post-TS supports for the other characters, what makes El and Rhea exceptions?! The only thing that would be lost is that I don’t have to replay their entire route to get their S-support twice. It’s not like there’s enough differences between Bylad and Bylass to warrant the supports being locked, none of the characters specify a specific gender in their dialogue, and as far as different models go, changing models during a cutscene is coded into the game, so that should be no issue.

After going through the monastery option enough times, the hubworld is in this weird limbo state where it feels like it was made specifically for Byleth’s benefit (faculty training, recruiting party members, etc,) but the rest of the party seems to benefit from it instead (Instructions, Motivation points, etc). The Explore vs Battle options just don’t mix well, which feels like poor design choice. You can focus on auxiliary battles to raise your party’s level, but at the cost of potentially missing out on more party members. You can instead focus on the monastery to recruit party members, but at the cost of Byleth falling behind due to splitting activity points between recruiting and faculty training, and being in the monastery means less time grinding for levels. This isn’t as much of a problem in NG+, but if a game needs NG+ to lessen a design problem, then that’s more of a sign to me that the idea itself needed more ironing out.

As far as using the monastery to raise support points goes, the hubworld definitely needs a revamp. The only (good) options available are Meal Time and Choir Practice, with the latter being limited to once per week and the former making me think that the monastery must eat their own weapons to survive due to how fucking scarce food ingredients are. Getting meat and fish isn’t too big of an issue so long as you have enough money, but produce might as well be an urban legend. There were too many times where I had 60+ fish/meat, but produce was at fucking 1. I get that they wanted to be “realistic” in having seeds grow once per week, but if it’s at the cost of a gameplay element being nigh unplayable, then some more thought needs to be put into it. Sothis is a goddess of life and time, maybe her powers allow Byleth to make plants grow faster. Just something to make this section actually playable.

The final thing I wanted to talk about when it comes to the monastery is that, for some baffling reason, it is entirely possible to lock yourself out of key events like S-supports or being able to choose CF, simply by skipping to the end of the month. I’m not sure why this is a thing. It’s not like the game was designed with speedruns in mind (I mean, it is possible to beat a route in an hour, but fuck me if I ever succeeded in that), and nothing happens like a prompt popping up that you have to explore the monastery during that month or even limiting your options to just Explore (which the game has done before). This is especially weird for the quest in getting Jeralt’s ring (how to access S-supports), since Byleth is supposed to be sad in this month, so not being able to do seminars or Byleth being undeployable during auxiliary battles would make sense.

The option to choose CF is even worse though, because at least for Jeralt’s ring it’s a Red Quest that doesn’t allow you to finish exploring unless you complete it. For Edelgard, however? A dime-a-dozen quest prompt you can entirely look over and skip. No prompt by the game, no indication to talk to Edelgard, nothing. FFS, Rhea’s tea time quest was given more thought. At least her quest marker is a unique color.

(End of rant…sort of)

…So anyways, that was my experience with the game, lmao. Now you or someone else may be thinking, “nonnie, if you had this many problems completing the game, why did you bother?”, and the answer to that good question is…I’m not completely sure, lol. I know there’s more than one reason why, so bear with me here. I know part of it is due to sunk-cost fallacy (“I’m already this far into the game, I might as well fully complete it”), but I think a bigger reason is because I knew ahead of time that the routes were so similar to each other that there was little point in having a route split to begin with (except for CF, but who gives a fuck about that?). Despite all of my bitching, I do really like 3H even if I admit that it’s my least favorite FE game that I’ve played so far. I guess a part of me just wanted to like the game more despite my issues with it.

Now that I think about it, maybe the main reason was for fear of future mainline games. People are fear to like whatever part of a game that they wish, but I do think that 3H introduced some fundamental storytelling flaws that I’d rather not see repeated in the future, with me focusing on 3 in particular: 1) The Monastery, 2) Route Splits and 3) Byleth.

Aside from what I already talked about in regards to the monastery, if we are going to get another hubworld in the new FE title, have it to where it doesn’t conflict with how the rest of the story is presented. Is it better to simply tell us that the Western Church is xenophobic in an easily skippable side quest early on, or is it better to show us? Enemy Western Church NPCs going after foreign party members like Dedue or Petra more aggressively and calling them “animals” or the like, the map having Duscari NPCs locking themselves indoors for fear that the Western Church will persecute them, things of that nature. Is it better to tell us that there has been civil unrest in the Empire and the citizens revolting against Edelgard, or is it better to show us? Enemy Adrestian Civilian NPCs, assassins specifically going after Edelgard in a map, maybe one where a large farmland has been stripped bare. Things like that.

I’d rather do away with the Persona-calendar/Monastery hubworld, but if they are here to stay then they need enough content in it to keep the player engaged for 20-odd chapters, because there isn’t enough content in Garreg Mach to even hold up 12 chapters. Speaking of more content, if there’s going to be another route split in the next title, then there needs to be enough differences in the routes that actually warrants having a route split. Fates already did this well in having the route split be early in the game, along with the plot and story maps of each route being different, you could even skip to the route split moment on subsequent playthroughs, so 3H’s approach in having to play the same 12 chapters 3-4 times just felt like a massive downgrade. Playing multiple routes should feel rewarding rather than tedious, is what I’m trying to say.

Finally, and most importantly, I know that no one at IS is reading this but on the off chance that someone is - please, for the love of God, do not make another blank-slate/self insert main character like Byleth. Or at the very least, don’t have them be the focal point of the story, it’s a big reason why AM just works better than the other routes. For a game like FE, “self-insert” and “protagonist” goes as well as oil and water. Now, out of those three flaws listed, the Byleth one is what I’m hard set on. The monastery and route split flaws, my opinion might be flexible within reason, but the Byleth one…not so much, lol. If we really do get another self-insert doll for a main character, that alone is going to make the next game a hard sell for me, because seeing all the praise Byleth got (and has been getting) makes me fear that IS is going to take the wrong lesson from this and think they don’t have to put effort in making their protagonist anything resembling an actual person and their audience will still lap it up. It would be one thing if I just hated the character, but I don’t. I’m disappointed, which is even worse.

…With that said, it’s still better than whatever the heck Cap’n’Crunch is doing. Okay, rant over. For real this time.

—

I agree with a lot said here! But I do have a few disagreements, though they’re mostly my opinion than anything else lol

And this first one is probably like, extremely unpopular given how much shit I’ve seen flung at this aspect of 3H, but like… I actually really like the Monastery? Like yes, absolutely, it should have done more to not shelter the player from how bad the war is and it should change more with the world instead of being in this mostly limbo state where apparently seasons don’t real. I definitely also have those complaints, but to me, the Monastery was fine for the most part. A lot of the issues you brought up, like supports and Faculty Training and supplies for eating, weren’t a problem for me almost at all. My only real gripe is with how hard it is for Byleth to get training in Flying, Mounted and especially Heavy Armor without NG+ unlocking weapons ranks, since they don’t have access to Weekly Chores. I do believe I still managed to recruit everyone while only unlocking C in Faith on my Maddening playthrough of GD, but it certainly wasn’t easy. But I feel a lot of the problem people have with it are on subsequent playthroughs where they’re trying to do things like 100% any aspect of 3H, which yeah is gonna exacerbate the issues tenfold. Cuz like, while those three weapons ranks I mentioned are hard for Byleth to raise, on Normal mode you have unlimited auxiliary battles to help with all the other ones.

Like, I wanted to get Claude’s Dex to the max amount right? Just cuz I felt like it. And in doing that I found out just how tedious it is to get levels once a unit gets to a certain point, just cuz while Normal Mode gives you the Retreat option that lets you keep exp so you can drop a unit down on a yellow spot and get a decent boost in exp… you can do that like, twice or thrice on a story chapter. Once if it’s auxiliary (and not the freebie one). And that’s if you even have internet. And using the greenhouse to get Ailiell Pomegranates was a pain because they weren’t really guaranteed even if I used nothing but the right seed - doing that is more consistent, but not always, and I usually only got one anyway. It was annoying! But I was also doing a specific thing that’s gonna heighten the flaws in the system that I never would have noticed - didn’t even notice - unless I did that. The flaws are still there, don’t get me wrong! The Monastery definitely still needs improvement, battles still need to be a little more streamlined for future playthrough, but the flaws can seem a bit bigger than they are once you do certain things outside of a casual playthrough, know what I mean?

But, for example, when replaying 3H on hard mode and looking to recruit everyone after my no recruitment run, I didn’t come across any dilemma over “recruitment or Byleth being good, pick one.” That was the run my Byleth was usable, in fact - my first blind run that was no recruitment (save for Shamir) had my Byleth be pretty much completely useless while literally everyone else was fine. Also never came across problems with supplies for cooking (or at least not any big enough to comment on). So like, while these (and the above stuff) can certainly be problems for players trying to do everything everything in 3H, at least from my experience I just haven’t come across them. The monastery itself definitely needed a better story implementation, but yeah. I could’ve just been lucky tho lmao

I don’t mind how they implemented trying to get on CF at all tho lol. If you’ve been playing the game like it suggests you do - supporting characters and exploring the monastery there’s no reason for players to have missed getting on CF. If players wanted to ignore one of the biggest aspects of the game I don’t really feel that bad for them when they miss out on very achievable things. Plus, CF’s requirements are nothing in terms of FE’s madness when it comes to getting on a route. It may be more specific than any other route, but like I said, playing the game as the game tells you to would naturally land you in it (the only thing that might be a bit unfair is that I think if you talk with Edelgard at all that month you have to decide right then and there, and then the whole month is lost. Kinda ass).

Binding Blade, for example, requires you to do specific things that few first time players would think to do in multiple, random chapters in order for you to get the best ending. With absolutely no warning as to when these chapters happen and what to do in them. And some of these requirements are not fun lmao, I’d prefer how they did it with CF than with how they’ve handled ~secret~ stuff before personally

Pretty much agree with everything else though! While 3H is actually one of my more favored games in the series, I’ll be the first to admit that its storytelling is in dire need of improvement. Having the story and lore of the game just be spat out in lore dumps and this or that NPC just isn’t that good. Or if they are going to do that, at the very least give some visuals to go along with it! Imagine how much impactful Rhea’s story would have been if it was in a visual format, like CGs and/or a cutscene. It still would be an info dump, but at least we can see for ourselves how horrific the Red Canyon was for her! And I do not want another avatar in whatever next mainline game we get, personality or not. We’ve evolved past the need for self-inserts that all the characters Just Like lmao

But thanks for sharing your thoughts!! And sorry that it took so long for me to get to answering ;w;

#submission #anon #exqueuese me princess #but hey I found the og submission at least!! for some reason it got thrown in like the middle of my drafts?? weird lmao #but yeah overall I do think 3H could've done with some refinement for later more intensive playthroughs #and on the other hand I get why they didn't immediately think of them if that makes sense #also lol yeah the base game is infinitely more fun that whatever Cap'n'n doin' lmao

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drxwsyni · 5 years ago

Text

Petrified (pt.4)

Yandere Erasermic x f!Reader

SERIES MASTERLIST

a/n: oooooh boy this took a hot minute to write, but i finally forced myself to finish it. and we reached 600 followers recently too!!!! i can’t believe there’s so many of you guys like holy heck. i hope you continue to enjoy what i have to offer :)

4.8k words

Warnings: reader experiences mild anxiety

As much as every ounce of your being begged to escape the confines of your small apartment and return to work, there were certain...motivators, holding you back.

For one, you presumed it’d be safest to heed the words of a medical professional―at least for the time being. Your condition had greatly improved since Friday, disregarding some lingering head pain, and now your self-preservation and common sense seemed to be functioning properly at the moment. In that regard, resting was likely the better idea.

As for the other thing keeping you home...perhaps it would be healthier not to think about it.

You felt ashamed, having been so undeniably intimidated by a couple of men who were simply being kind enough to drive you home last night. However the sensation didn’t come as a shock once you had taken the time to think the ordeal over.

It’s just what came naturally―your brain internalizing experiences, shaping them into something that should scare you.

Any rational person would laugh at your behaviour.

They’re heroes. Clearly what happened was just them expressing harmless concern.

And yet the more you tried to convince yourself of their innocent intentions, the harder it became to ignore the gut feeling that still lingered the morning after.

However, you knew how your brain could be sometimes―refusing to move on from initial impressions despite having rationalized the topic as a whole.

Hizashi was just naturally drawn to affection as a way of showing distress. There was no other meaning behind his lingering touches or endearing nicknames―just concern.

As for Shouta, well he always seemed to be a stern man. It was likely that it just manifests a bit more when he’s worried, it’s just the professionalism in him.

There was no need to stay so fixated on the subject when you could be using your time to catch up on hobbies that you’d greatly neglected as a result of your occupation. Having no reason for doing anything else, a little self-indulgence was practically your only choice.

It was still early, at least for your standards―knowing full well that your lifestyle kept you in bed longer than the average human.

You kept searching for things to do here and there, never staying on one task for too long. First it was cleaning the kitchen, then attempting to read a long abandoned novel. You tried finding something on t.v to watch, but everything only offered you the same empty feeling of boredom. Nothing could pique your interest long enough to hold you to one pastime―and for good reason.

There was a message from Hizashi that remained unopened on your phone since you woke up.

It felt ridiculous, being so hesitant to look at the damned message. Even after telling yourself that there was nothing to worry about, you couldn’t bring yourself to read it. So when you heard the familiar ping not once, but twice in succession while organizing your magazine collection, the feeling of your heart sinking into your stomach did not come as a surprise.

The device was still on your nightstand where you disregarded it last night, and subsequently neglected it this morning. Even through the walls of your bedroom you could still hear the notifications go off.

Inwardly cursing, you had a faint idea that continuing to block out the intrusion would likely lead to more issues between you and the two men. Not that it should, everyone forgets to answer their phone here and there. But you weren’t an idiot―even if it was just paranoia, the consequences of ignoring the messages weren’t something you particularly wanted to think about given the recent behaviour of the heroes.

As expected, the screen was lit up in wait for your return.

From: Hizashi

morning sunshine! just checking up on ya, how r u feeling?

9:17 am

ya doing okay? didn’t pass out again i hope ;)

12:53 pm

if ya keep leaving me hangin i’m gonna get worried songbird…

12:54 pm

Ah yes, you thought, he’s as coddling as normal it seems.

You figured it’d be wise to send a reply before he bust down your door to make sure you were still alive in person.

You:

I’m alright! Just slept in a little :)

12: 54 pm

The response that came instantly was almost a little inhumanly fast.

From: Hizashi

oh thank god, don’t need a repeat of last friday

12:54 pm

You:

Yeah, definitely not. Thanks for checking up on me though!

12:56 pm

From: Hizashi

lemme know if ya need anything picked up, probably not a good idea for you to be going out rn

12:56 pm

Naturally, you wouldn’t let him do that even if you did need anything. God knows how much trouble you’ve been so far―no need to cause more.

You:

Sounds good, I’ll let you know if I do.

I’m actually in the middle of cleaning right now so how bout we talk later :)

12:57 pm

The more you conversed with him, the harder it became to think about anything other than the embarrassing experiences you had with the man. It was probably best if you gave up the conversation, knowing you’d have more than enough time to chat when you regrettably were forced to eat dinner with him and his partner.

Thankfully, he seemed to be okay with the proposition as well.

From: Hizashi

aww alright, don’t work urself too hard sunshine!

12:58 pm

Too bothered to give a proper farewell, you turned your phone off, leaving it on do not disturb to avoid further distress.

_____

You’d spent the rest of the day tidying up here and there. It turns out focusing solely on going to work only to come home for rest had left your apartment shamefully messy. Every now and again your thoughts would drift back to the two intrusions in your life as of lately. It was invasive―not being able to leave well enough alone. You weren’t physically near them they still plagued you with anxiety, even if it was just barely recognizable.

Dinnertime came soon enough, and you’d spent it mindlessly scrolling through social media. The feeling of wanting to chuck your phone across the room was fleeting―but present―as you momentarily laid eyes on a post having to do with Present Mic and his radio show. It would seem not even in your perceived distraction could you distance yourself from the thoughts and feelings related to him and his somber counterpart.

The night went on, slowly but surely. For better or for worse you let yourself get lost in the endless play-through of television. Some shows you’d seen before, others you hadn’t. It didn’t really matter when the only purpose they served was to keep your mind on something that didn’t have your hair falling out from stress.

Eventually you felt your mind become foggy with exhaustion once again―and you couldn’t be more thankful.

_____

Wednesday was spent doing many of the same things as the day before. Cleaning―so much cleaning. Turns out you’d missed a lot yesterday, and the lighting of the somewhat early morning sun was more than enough to highlight all the dirt and grime that had yet to be scrubbed away.

So you got to work, feeling rejuvenated with a good night’s sleep.

By the time you made it to six o’clock you felt thoroughly beat, and in the best way. You spent your time eating thinking about the work day you would have tomorrow. Sure, you were aware that it’d only bring the all too familiar sluggishness to your body. But you were a people pleaser, so really that sensation didn’t matter at the end of the day. What mattered was the motivation you felt that spurred you to work―both the verbal and nonverbal praise those who purchased the fruits of your labour gave.

Expectedly, when you woke up Thursday morning, although it was closer to the afternoon at that point, there was a spring in your step as you readied yourself for the day.

As always the comforting smell of fresh greenery in the air was much appreciated as you stepped into the floral boutique. Your coworker greeted you with open arms, regarding your seemingly healthy recovery. It was nearing the end of their shift, and therefore soon to be the beginning of yours, so you headed to the employee designated portion of the building to make the few preparations for the start of your night.

Naturally, you were quickly subjected to the whims and demands of customers when you took your place at the front counter. Given the monotonous time you spent away from any meaningful stimulation, the activity was appreciated.

You were assorting foliage left right and center, the company you worked for obtaining quite the substantial amount of earnings in the process. The time went by steadily, you working diligently alongside of it. Request after request was met, not even the few unsavoury interactions phased you all the much amidst the bustling atmosphere. A few familiar faces entered the shop, to which you greeted with a comforting warmth only good service could provide.

It felt good to be caught up in routine, making the nearing end of it only the more bitter. But it still came, and you were going through the motions of tending to the final arrangement with somewhat slowed movements as a result of your quirk usage.

The awaiting customer hastily took the finished product before paying and exiting the establishment. People tended to be in a bit of a rush at this hour, likely due to the lateness of the night. You disregarded the occurrence and settled for cleaning up for the rest of your shift.

There was sweeping and disinfecting to be done, along with tidying up the assembly station and checking on the greenery room one last time. You went through the tasks absentmindedly, having done them countless times before. The routine was like second nature, allowing your thoughts to go over the events of the workday.

You were giving a final once over of the plant life when the high pitched jingle of the front door bell rang out through the shop.

Really? At this hour you’re trying to buy flowers even though it’s literally closing time?

Giving a sigh of frustration you stepped out of the room and headed to the front. But low and behold, it was not in fact an incompetent customer waiting to be served.

“Did you even consider staying home for the whole week?” The erasure hero was leaning against the front counter when you entered the room. He was smirking ever so slightly, almost as if he knew that both of you were aware that you wouldn’t stay away from work. His tone was even teasing, making your frustrations go away only to be replaced by a slight feeling of flusteredness under his intense gaze. You didn’t know whether you preferred this side of him or the side that made you want to curl into a ball after being berated by unyielding lecturing mixed with interrogation.

“Hello to you too. I’m sorry if you're here for flowers cause it’s pretty much closing time.”

Just then Hizashi walked out from behind a display stand, making his way next to Shouta. “Not quite listener! Just wanted to make sure you were still up for that repayment we talked about.”

Ah yes, like you could forget that any time soon.

“Of course. Still not sure how it makes up for things but since you insist...who am I to say no?” You were behind the counter, taking stock of today's earnings as Shouta continued.

“I suppose it’s not really a traditional form of repayment, but we promise you’ll enjoy it. To be honest we don’t have company over often, so it’ll be a nice change of pace for us too.”

It was a relief to see that their behaviour wasn’t nearly as hostile as it was a few nights ago. Frankly, you just barely got out of that situation without breaking down from your highly anxious nerves.

“Ya finishing up there songbird? We’ll give you a ride home.” Joyous as ever, Hizashi was all too eager to put you further in debt.

Expectedly, his partner was quick to agree to the proposition. “That’s not a bad idea. Not to sound patronizing, but it really is dangerous to be out by yourself at this hour.”

You wrapped up the assessment of the register’s contents, closing the drawer and locking it up. “Thanks for the offer, but I refuse to impose on you two anymore. Besides, walking home can be kinda therapeutic―at least when I’m not tired out of my mind.” You gave a slight chuckle at the end of your statement, having long gotten used to that recurring condition at the end of the day.

“We weren’t asking, (y/n). You're still recovering, even though you probably won’t admit it. And I won’t beat around the bush―you’re too vulnerable in this state.”

It would seem Shouta’s previous attitude was just for show. Does he ever get tired of being so serious all the time?

It was like second nature at this point―direct confrontation leading to an initially mild panic that would soon snowball into a full blown breakdown if the occurrence persists.

You kept up the friendly appearance nonetheless.“I just think I’d prefer―”

“It’s no problem, sweetheart. You know we don’t mind helpin’ ya out. Besides we still gotta work out when you’re comin over, yeah?” The blond’s smile did little to calm the growing apprehension you felt.

Just be a little more stubborn. Some people need that extra reminder.

“It’s fine, really. I’ll just message you for the details and―”

“(Y/n).” It made your stomach churn―the lowness in the erasure hero's voice. He wasn’t having it. For a moment you pondered whether he’d ever really care about what you had to say.

“Just finish closing up, ‘kay hun? We’ll wait right here until you’re done.” Hizashi kept his eyes on you in wait for a response, or even an action that would show you’d comprehended what they said. And of course you had―you just desperately wished they’d never said it in the first place.

You felt ashamed, and it was becoming an all too familiar feeling when you were around the two men. But it was just who you were, met with compassion but only getting dejected by it. You were uncomfortable, there was no denying that. Backed into a corner that shouldn’t exist, but does because you didn’t have the will to change the situation into your favour.

Despite your distress, the part of you that put others before yourself prevailed.

“Okay, I guess. Just―um...gimme a few minutes please.” You wondered if they could even hear your reply, given that even to yourself it sounded almost non existent. It didn’t matter. You were fleeing to the employee room without bothering to find out.

You stood in front of your locker, hands shaking in the slightest as you got changed―apron off, jacket on, backpack slung over your shoulder. The coolness of the thin metal offered some relief, you keeping your hands atop the closed door for a moment to calm your rapidly beating heart.

At least you’d get home quickly, you thought.

As they promised, the two were waiting in the seating area at the front of the shop, quietly making conversation with each other. The sound of your footsteps alerted them to your presence.

“Ready to rock and roll?” Hizashi stood up from his seat, his partner following suit.

You gave the room a quick once over, making sure everything was where it needed to be. “I think so.” A quiet ride back home was what you hoped for, but there was more to be discussed, much to your dismay.

Shouta held the door open for the two of you, letting you pause to lock up when you had all exited. “How was work today?”

The closeness of his voice as you turned the lock into place made you jump slightly, but you did your best to ignore the temporary fear. “Fine, I suppose. Like any other Thursday night…” You tried to hide the underlying anxiety with a smile, but you couldn’t tell whether or not it did the trick. Giving the front door an experimental tug to make sure it was locked, you turned back to let the two lead you to their car.

You felt a hand settle on the small of your back―Shouta’s hand―as he walked with you while Hizashi remained on your other side, slightly ahead of you. “How’s your head doing, is the medication working?”

The two walked at a casual pace, but to you it felt unbearably slow―what you wouldn’t give to just walk home without the admittedly unwelcomed company. “It still hurts a bit every now and then, but the pills keep the pain at bay for the most part.”

By now you were approaching their car which was parked on the side of the road, the blond opening it for you to step in. Shouta took up the responsibility of driving once again, Hizashi in the passenger's seat.

“Ya gettin’ enough sleep?” You were sitting behind the driver's seat, letting Hizashi have the opportunity to comfortably look back at you while he talked.

“Probably more than enough.”

You heard Shouta start the car before he responded. “That’s good to hear. It’s unfortunate that your work keeps you out so late though.” The car started forward, and you were thankful that at this rate it’d only take a few minutes to reach your apartment. You kept your eyes trained on the passing scenery to avoid any awkward eye contact.

“So when do ya think would be a good day to come over. I’ve got my radio show on Fridays and weekdays don’t always sit too well with teaching ‘n stuff.”

“Yeah...Fridays definitely won’t work for me either. Honestly I don’t really get much time for myself outside of work.” Not that you weren’t used to this reality by now, but every so often you wished your life allowed for just a little more free time. If anything, the horrid state you found your apartment to be in when you were forced to stay home would surely attest to that.

It would seem that Shouta agreed with his partner’s statement, “How about this Saturday? I can come pick you up at around 5:30.”

You contemplated whether it was even worth arguing over letting him give you a ride to their place. And then you remembered exactly what landed you in their car in the present.

You probably wouldn’t get very far with that fight.

“That should be fine.” It was only in your nature to want to offer some form of compensation. You knew that this whole ordeal was meant to be you repaying them, so you should at least try to cater to that reality. “I can make something to bring so you guys don’t have to do all the work. Cooking isn’t really my strong suit but I’m a pretty decent baker―maybe I could put something together for dessert?”

“Nah don’t bother with that babe. We’re supposed to be treating you, remember?”

“Exactly, and I doubt any of us will have room for desert. Another time maybe.”

“Yep! Besides, you being there’s all the sweetness we need.” You didn’t have to look at Hizashi to know the grin he had on his face as he threw around careless sentiments like his literal partner wasn’t sitting right next to him.

The car was pulling into the parking lot of your apartment complex. To be honest you didn’t know how to respond to the nonchalant compliment, “Ah...yeah. Just let me know if there’s any change in plan I guess.” The vehicle came to a stop, you pulling your backpack into your lap while unbuckling the seatbelt.

“Don’t stay up too late, okay?” This time you didn’t make the mistake of looking at Shouta as he talked, for fear that his glare would burn holes through your skull. Instead you pretended to fiddle with something on your bag while responding.

“Yeah, thanks for the ride.”

The car door unlocked, letting you step outside into the brisk fresh air. Before you could close the door you heard Hizashi calling out to you, hand placed behind the headrest of his partner’s seat as he turned to speak to you. “We can give you a ride home tomorrow after work if ya’d like. Shouta’s got nothin’ going on―it’d be no trouble.”

“No,” that was definitely not something you needed, “I’ve got something I need to do after work actually, but thanks for the offer.” There was nothing to attend to after your shift, but they didn’t need to know that. Lying was never something you were the best at, and you hoped the shakiness in your voice didn’t give too much away.

“Alrighty then songbird, just thought I’d ask.”

“Have a good night (y/n).”

You smiled at the blond facing you, “Thanks, you too.” Before they could get another word out, as at this point you felt they would take up more of your time if possible, you shut the car door. Once again giving a small wave before you entered the building, you found it all too hard to contemplate how you’d politely weasel your way out of this newly developed relationship after the ensuing Saturday night.

_____

Friday came and went as expected. Waking up with the familiar sluggishness plaguing your body, moving past the sensation to go about your duties―everything falling into place as routine. Meeting the demands of love-stricken individuals was as taxing as normal, but it was all you had to make you feel like you were contributing something valuable to society. At the end of the day it was worth doing questionable things to your health.

The slightly less honourable motivation in the form of decent tips was always an added bonus. Your co-workers mentioned a few times that somehow you always ended up with a higher profit than the rest of them. It made you feel slightly guilty, but the usage of your quirk was likely the reasoning behind the occurrence.

Nights like these always ended with more earnings than normal―given the sheer volume of customers compared to the typical weekday traffic. Right now you took solace in the reward as you usually do at the end of your shift, thumbing through the few generous bills you received.

Satisfied with the haul, you completed your mental checklist that you’d formed over time to ensure that all tasks were completed by the end of the day. Your keys felt heavy in your wearied hands as you locked up, turning on the heels of your feet in the direction of your awaiting apartment.

You’d be lying if you said you were surprised to see that the two mildly invasive heroes hadn’t checked in to see that you were actually busy after work. Not that you wanted them to―having to lie once again wasn’t in your best interest. Still, the phenomenon that was their recurring presence had not gone unnoticed. More often than not you found your thoughts drifting to past experiences with them, and therefore regrettably resurfacing some unpleasant feelings.

For now however, you did your best to fixate on other, less mentally damaging things. In light of recent events you chose to take the long way home, inwardly shuddering as you passed the alleyway which you ever so carelessly ventured into exactly a week ago.

Maybe you were just hyperaware due to some lingering paranoia, but you could’ve sworn you could make out rustling in certain places around you―places that shouldn’t exactly be making that much noise.

Behind you. No...above you? Or was it both―the sounds distinct but lacking just enough to throw off your comprehension to make a full analysis of their origin.

Forget about it for God’s sake. You’re tired. It’s been a long day and you’re anxious because you got jumped just seven days ago in the same area.

But you could hear it.

Shifting in the shadows. Muffled but there all the same.

Footsteps?

The possibility had your heart rate growing faster by the second.

Not footsteps, just your mind playing tricks on you. You’re okay.

Unconsciously, your pace grew quicker, the patter of your shoes hitting the pavement sounding off below you. In the midst of your panic riddled thoughts you failed to register that you’d reached your destination.

An audible sigh escaped your lips as you observed the towering building with gratitude.

You kept up the hastened strides, reaching your apartment in good time. The time between stepping through the threshold of the abode and when your head hit your pillow was a blur―but really those monotonous details weren’t all that imperative.

As much as you wanted to get a good night's sleep, your subconscious had other plans. You reached the state of deep slumber that you desired, but it was riddled with offending nightmares.

Dark looming figures in the corner of your eyes, disappearing when you tried to get a good look at them. Running from something that placed a deep set fear into your very being, despite not having even seen what the atrocity was.

It left you to wake in a cold, sticky feeling sweat. Disheveled and disoriented, the time didn’t quite matter―wanting only for the feeling of trepidation to dissipate so you can return to a hopefully more peaceful sleep.

_____

Keys clattered loudly on the glass countertop of the side table in the entryway as Shouta haphazardly emptied his pocket’s contents. The sound of a running shower could be heard on the floor above him, making the presence of his boisterous partner known. He removed the heavy combat boots of his hero costume and lazily sauntered to the shared bedroom.

By the time he got there the shower had turned off, and he occupied himself with changing out of his attire for something less restricting in wait for the blond to make an appearance.

He’d just finished getting settled when Hizashi exited the attached washroom to their bedroom, hair still damp and lightly soaking the t-shirt he’d thrown on. “Well, don’t keep me waiting’”

The voice hero leaned against the headboard of their bed, “She didn’t have any plans, I watched her walk straight home after her shift and she never left the apartment either.”

Hizashi’s usually persistently bright smile faltered, “Ah...she probably forgot about them or something.”

“Do you really believe that?”

The disappointment was evident in the blond’s face, “Would she really just lie to us like that, even though we’re tryin’ to help her?”

The erasure hero sighed, “She’s self-destructive, it wouldn’t be the first time we’ve seen her put herself in danger without second thought.”

“God, Shou’―and she’s always shakin’ like a leaf. I don’t even think the poor thing realizes she’s doin’ it either.”

Shouta looked to the ceiling for a moment as if searching for an answer that would please his partner, “We can try and bring it up with her―see if there’s a reason behind all this.”

“And what if she lies to us again, huh? I can’t keep watching her hurt herself babe.”

At that the erasure hero stood up from his position on the bed, making his way over to the washroom in hopes of a shower relaxing his nerves. “We’ll cross that bridge when we get to it. Let’s just see how dinner goes first, okay?”

“But what if she never tells us what’s goin’ on? I mean she’s already avoiding us for christ’s sake, what’s to stop her from―”

“If anything happens we’ll deal with it ‘Zashi. I don’t want to hear anything more of it until after we sit down with her, got it?” He paused at the doorway as emphasis, waiting for his partner's agreement on the matter.

“Yeah okay, sorry.”

“Don’t be, I care about her too, remember?” With that he closed the door before his partner could add to the conversation.

_____

When you did finally wake up from that hellish night, almost entirely riddled with disturbing dreams, you were left with a lingering feeling of dread. A pit in your stomach that remained persistent no matter how much you tried to think of something other than the incomprehensible yet sickening scenarios that unwillingly played out inside your head.

Looking at your phone didn’t help you settle into a more agreeable state either.

It was just past midday―giving you roughly five hours until you had to pull yourself together to sit through what was hopefully the last encounter with the two heroes.

For now however, you listened to the sound of the birds chirping outside your window―it was always easier to get lost in your surroundings than actively trying to solve your own issues.

Maybe by the time you had to leave you’d feel better. But even if you didn’t, the dull ache of ailment was always persistent in your life in one way or another―so what was one more problem?

End of Part 4

_____

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