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lizard-shifter-noms · 1 year ago

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Wayward Waters Chapter 2

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Hello everyone! Chapter 2!

time to have them explore more of the world!

this Story contains Vore, Dont like dont read.

have fun reading!

and as always reblogs are appreciated! (Also ASK’s are open so feel free to bother me!)

AO3 Link for those that prefer the layout there;

AO3 Wayward waters

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My first assumption upon getting properly on the boat was that I would indeed fit on the deck as an Ardua, three times even.

The second was that the ground wasn't as steady anymore.

The waves that gently swapped against the boat made it rock back and forth slightly, Arthur would probably have thrown up by now already.

I walked over the deck with Robin in tow, taking a closer look at the middle mast and the deck itself.

There were crates strewn about and some crewmates were tying them down to the ship with rope or lowering them into the ship itself through a hole.

Robin leaned so far over one that he almost fell in but I managed to snatch the back of his shirt before he did.

Having him on the deck properly again we went to search for Rikaad, if he was on board already he could tell us what to do.

I could shift into a giant, maybe I could help with the cargo somehow?

Thought that might scare people so maybe not,

not to mention i was still hauling Robin's bag around with me while he had mine slung over his shoulder.

“Do you see Rikaad? Or even the captain? I want to now where to put our stuff”

The ginger shook his head.

“No, I don't even know who the Captain is! Ohh do you think he has an eyepatch? Like a pirate? Or a wooden leg?”

“No idea, I guess look for someone with the fanciest gear? Or like someone with medals on their uniform?”

I kinda doubted the captain would look like one of the pirates from stories, but then again I had no idea what to look for.

Continuing to look around we walked up a set of stairs, where we did find Rikaad talking to a man who wore a big dark red coat that had yellow accents and golden buttons.

Considering he was talking to Rikaad, that was probably the captain.

Rikkad suddenly turned around to face us, as weird as it was that he knew we were there.

“There you are! Come here for a moment i'm going to introduce you to the captain of this vessel”

We walked over as instructed and he introduced the captain, who apparently was named Nemas.

Judging by his appearance, while still human, he wasn't native to Kamerasca and he had a face tattoo in the shape of a thorny rose stalk.

No wonder the ship was called Victory Rose.

“Welcome onboard! I hope none of you are prone to get seasick as we will spend a few days on the sea!”

Without missing a beat Robin replied.

“No, we left the one that gets sick back at home!”

the captain roared with guttural laughter.

“AHAHAHA good one! One less thing to worry about then, last time I had a seasick guy onboard he fell in the water! Now then I'll have one of my crewmates show you your cabins later! We only need to tow the last crate and get all of the crew!”

He jumped over a railing to the lower part of the big deck and I could see from up here he was filling his lungs with air.

“GUYS! GET YOUR SHIP WIVES AND GET READY! WERE ABOUT TO LEAVE HARBOR!”

That guy could yell loud, I should have held a hand over my ears, and what the hell were ship wives?

Whatever, I followed Rikaad and Robin down again to the deck where a sailor with a scarred throat mentioned for us to follow.

We did as instructed and the man led us to a bunch of cabins in the back of the ship, Rikaad got the biggest seeing as he was king.

Robin and I got one somewhat close and tossed our bags inside before going back on deck to watch the city get smaller and smaller behind us.

How weird, my entire life I had spent scared of being murdered in the city, and now I was on a ship to the trader islands with the king himself.

To Make sure I REALLY wasn't dreaming I pinched myself, yeah no, wide awake.

But still crazy to think about, so I just sat there for a while and watched Kamerasca get smaller and smaller.

But I still made sure to keep an eye on Robin who clambered all over the place, ready to sprint after him should he even get close to falling in the water.

After a few minutes of that he joined me and we watched as Kamerasca slowly disappeared, talking about what details we could still make out.

At some point nothing of Kamerasca was visible anymore, not even the Castle and I had to admit this was a very fast boat despite its size.

Not that I knew anything about sailing though.

Since it was midday when we left it was only a few hours till dinnertime, I wondered what that would be like on the ship, did they also have a big table? Did that even fit in here?

Though maybe they would just hand out rations to the people and leave them to eat them on their own.

I did see a table in the captains quarter, though that one had been full of maps and other stuff I couldn't even name, Oakley would have had a blast with that I'm sure.

I decided to look around the deck a bit while Robin went and talked the ears of some sailor off about the boat and whatnot.

What I did find weird was that none of the sailors even batted an eye at me, considering my bastard status and pointy ears that was a tad strange.

I decided to talk to a few of the sailors out of curiosity.

As it turned out they just didn't care, and had seen way weirder things on their journeys, they even pointed out the various injuries they had gotten from unusual creatures.

For example a missing finger from a horned wolf who had looked pettable for way too short and a chunk bitten out of someone's leg by a seadrake, as well as the sailor from before with the scarred throat.

The other ones told me he was mute which made sense given he hadn't made a single sound and the reason for that and the scars was that he got into a bar brawl with a tall and bumpy skinned guy that had possessed tusks.

Apparently the being aimed to rip out his throat with said tusks and I winced in sympathy, that must have hurt as hell!

But he obviously survived, and when I asked how they told me their Captain had fought the attacker and cut his head off with the tusks still embedded in the mute man's throat.

They brought him to a doc like that to prevent him from bleeding out.

What a wild story! And it was nice to know that according to them it was one of the least freaky things they came across.

They also told me they kept the tusks and they were somewhere in the captain's quarters.

These guys had quite the wild stories! And scars to match!

Suddenly a three legged gray cat with a blue bandana tied to its neck jumped up next to me and startled me.

The sailors laughed and told me the cat was named Smokey and supposed to catch rats and mice on the boat.

They had fished him out of the ocean in a bag and suspected someone tried to get rid of him like that.

The cat suddenly meowed with the most scratchy voice I could imagine, not even some of the hardcore smokers in the taverns of Kamerasca sounded like that!

No wonder he was called Smokey, not only did he have gray fur he also had a voice like he had gargled gravel.

“Mrechechech!”

The furball looked at me for a moment with weirdly yellow eyes before sprinting away to some crates.

“He's got good ears! Probably sensed a rat or something!”

For something with three legs he was pretty fast I had to admit.

Before anyone could say anything else a loud gong sounded from who knew where and the sailors all stood up and walked towards some carts that had been brought out by what I assumed were the cooks.

Suddenly I got tackled by Robin, who squealed in joy.

“They have a cat on board! And he has a job! Have you seen it? I wanna see it!”

I took a few seconds to recover from that, so he was aware of Smokey but hadn't seen him huh?

“Uh yeah i have, Smokey if i recall correctly? I think he went to hunt some mice? Maybe if you wait you'll see him?”

He pouted for a second before noticing the carts as well.

“Is that food on the carts? Do you think we are allowed to have some?”

Good question.

“Uhh lets ask someone first, they may have made extra somewhere for us so we don't intrude over there”

He nodded and we went to look for anyone who looked like they knew about such stuff.

Not finding one we decided to just knock on the captain's door to ask him.

He opened it with a sandwich in his hand that smelled strongly of fish.

“Ah hello there, can I help you with anything?”

He seemed confused, probably thinking someone had already told us what to do.

Robin answered him faster than I could.

“Hi! Do you know where we are supposed to eat? We can't find our group!”

His brain was all over the place once again it seemed, but at least Nemas didn't seem bothered by the blunt question.

“Ah, I knew I forgot something! Sorry about that, I was busy with the maps! I think you can just go to the kitchen and ask, no wait you don't know where that is, eh, let me show you”

With hat he stepped out of his room and winked us to follow him, fishy smelling sandwich still in hand.

I just shrugged and went after him with Robin right behind me.

He led us down some stairs not far from his door and showed us how to get to the kitchen.

It looked pretty much like a normal kitchen, aside from the fact things were bolted extra secure to the ground, like the tables and other working spaces.

Made sense, if bigger waves hit they would just slide around.

He organized us some bread and marmalade and then led us back to the deck.

I silently thought next time we should just look for Rikaad.

We still thanked him and he went back into his own room, half eaten fish sandwich in hand.

How he could stand to eat something that smelled like that was beyond me though.

Deciding not to put crumbs all over the place we ate near the railing, only to have to flee to our cabins as seagulls appeared.

So we ended up eating in our shared cabin instead, picking a feather out of my shirt.

The thing was still completely intact so I put it in the wooden box I took with me.

No idea what for but maybe someone would want it as a souvenir?

After eating we decided to unpack what we needed and I saw that the room had a bed and a hammock so we would have to choose who got what.

“Which one do you want? Bed or hammock? I'm fine with either as long as i don't fall on my face”

Robin shrugged.

“Uhh can I have the bed? Last time i went in a hammock i managed to get trapped in the fabric somehow”

Why did that not surprise me?

“Sure, take the bed, but make sure that when we leave to check under it for your stuff”

He nodded and started searching for something in his bag while I hung my own on a hook on the wall and climbed into the hammock to test it out.

It was alright, it swayed with the motion of the sea which had a strangely soothing effect.

Grabbing my bag I fished out the medication Oakley gave me against the nightmares and took what he prescribed from it.

It was late and running all over the boat today had been exhausting, especially as I had to balance myself a lot on the unusually swaying ground.

Yawning and wishing Robin a goodnight I fell asleep pretty quickly.

I got woken up by Robin this time, which was worlds better than Nea as the only thing he did was poke my shoulder.

“Mhm?”

I blinked blearily at him.

“It's breakfast time! And this time I know where to go!”

Oh right, that was good, how long had he been awake for?

At least half an hour if he found that out already.

“Really? Good, gimme a minute i'll be right out”

“Okay! I'll try to find the cat! I really wanna see it!”

He nodded excitedly and weaseled out of the room, probably to go onto the deck.

Yawning, I stretched and then awkwardly climbed out of the hammock.

I really wasn't used to that huh.

Whatever, this arrangement wasn't for terribly long anyway.

I grabbed my shoes and slipped them on before following Robin up to the deck.

He was there staring up the middle mast with curiosity.

I went next to him and looked up as well to try and see what had captured his attention.

“There's a guy up there! What do you think he's doing?”

Looking up I could indeed see a leg stick out from a platform at the top.

Ohh what was that called again? Something Nest or so?

“i think that's the lookout, like the guy that informs people if there's land nearby or other ships”

He tilted his head like an inquisitive dog.

“Really? You think we could go up there?”

What? Up there? Quite frankly as interesting as that was, it seemed dangerous, especially for people that had never done this.

“I'm not sure if we are allowed to, besides that doesn't look very safe so id rather not, what if i fall? Or fall on top of someone?”

Falling itself was bad enough, falling on top of someone else was even worse as then I wouldn't even be the only one injured.

“Oh, you're right, and that does look pretty high up, so maybe not”

I nodded and he dragged me to where he last saw Rikaad, which turned out to be the same spot where he introduced the captain to us.

He was still there even, as well as the captain who apparently told some tale that happened to him sometime.

Man these sailors loved telling stories huh?

He was just about done with the story when we walked up the stairs though.

“Ah hello there boys! Hope sleeping with the waves moving the boat wasn't too bad for you!”

In my opinion it had been fine actually.

“Yeah it was pretty okay”

He saluted and then jumped over the railing onto the main deck again.

Rikaad looked after him.

“I do not think that man likes stairs”

Then he turned to us and before he could say anything Robin had tackled him in a hug.

To Rikaads credit he didn't even flinch, or even move a millimeter.

Instead of doing the normal thing and telling him to let go Robin was hoisted over his shoulder like a sack of flour.

Right, Rikaad was strong, so it was no wonder that he just carried Robin like that while he led us to an empty but pretty big cabin that had tables haphazardly bolted to its floor.

On the tables itself which had strange indents so the plates wouldn't slide off was some food, half of which I did not recognize.

And most of what i did not recognize was some sort of fish anyway, well it probably was the cheapest and most efficient thing to do.

Remembering the not so good smelling sandwich of the captain I'd probably leave that alone though.

While I tried to choose what to eat, Robin had already run around the tables and grabbed random things, Rikaad was nowhere to be found once again.

I went to a table that was in the corner away from the other tables which had some strange brown blocks stacked onto it.

One of the sailors was sawing a piece with a serrated bread knife.

Deciding to be bold i asked the man what that was.

“What is that? Some type of bread?”

He turned to me while stacking some of the crumbly stuff on his plate.

“Hardtack! It's basically made from flour and water and some salt”

The entire thing only had three ingredients? No wonder it looked so strange, but then what was the white stuff? Wait did it move?

“Uhh why is it moving? What is that?”

“Oh that's maggots!”

Replied the sailor in a cheerful voice and scooped some of them onto his plate with the Hardtack before walking away.

I tried my best not to gag and instead went outside, As an Ardua I didn't need to eat as long as I had sunlight and I've never been more glad for that than now.

I really regretted asking now but there was nothing to be done about that.

No wonder that table was away from the other ones, but why the FUCK would a maggot infested salty flour block even be a meal option?

No, I didn't want to know, but considering it was made from only three easy to get ingredients it was probably meant for longer journeys where they couldn't stock up on fresh things.

Still, eew.

I didn't really want to go back inside so I walked over the large deck again, looking into the grid covered holes into the holding room of the ship.

Through the sparse light I could make out lots of crates tied to the ship and I wondered what was inside of it.

Maybe I could ask someone? Or would that be rude?

As far as i knew the cargo might as well be classified or whatever.

That and most of the people were still eating, at least the ones that weren't needed to keep the ship going where it was supposed to.

Looking up at the sunlight I kinda wished I could just turn into my Ardua form and take a nap on the deck.

But I didn't know if the ship would hold me or not, but maybe I could ask the captain? He did call the shots here after all.

Where was he anyway? Back in his cabin?

Since that was where he was last time I decided to check there, politely knocking on the door.

I heard footsteps on the wood and after a moment he opened the door, this time holding an entire smoked fish, who at least didn't smell bad.

“Ah hello! Do you need help with anything?”

He seemed quite confused, which honestly was fair.

“Uh, I just wanted to ask some things about the ship? If I'm allowed to?”

He winked me inside, waving his smoked fish around and I followed him inside.

“Of course! I always love talking about my ship!

It used to belong to my grandfather but I inherited it because my father would rather work a sawmill for whatever reason, but hey if something here gets broken he's the best man to fix it!”

I felt like I was in for a not that factual rambling.

“Oh that's nice, I just wanted to ask some basic things really, like how much cargo can this vessel hold?”

He motioned for me to sit on a chair that was covered in maps,

which I politely set on the ground.

As I sat down I spotted a weird set of coat hangers screwed into the wall and it took me a second to recognize them as tusks, probably the same ones from that one sailors story.

So they weren't kidding huh?

“How much can it hold? Well if you're smart about weight distribution that can be multiple tons! Of course that does depend on the crate sizes and how heavy the things we transport actually are!

For example if we transport cotton that's a whole lot lighter and easier to distribute than like Marble blocks!”

He stopped gesticulating with the fish for a second, biting a chunk out of it.

“Oh wait, I think I get why you ask that!”

He did? What?

“You do? What?” He slapped the fish loudly onto a random plate.

“Your king has already informed you of the thing with the enemy ships and since my dear Victory Rose here has a very large and flat deck that can hold multiple tons he asked me to bring you guys there!

He also informed me that one of his men could shapeshift, which is why they needed my boat and didn't take the Royal fleet!

So by that I'm assuming you're the shapeshifter? Do you really turn into a giant green lion?“

I was taken aback by that information, Rikaad had just told him that? Then again he did say he'd like me for the intimidation factor and doing that one a normal boat would just make it sink.

And informing the captain that I would eventually do that was probably the only option to not randomly get harpooned, so it did make sense.

I just wish he told me that.

“Uh, yeah, yeah I do turn into a giant ‘green lion’ though it's called an Ardua sooo…

Uh the thing i was here for was to actually ask if i could shift on the deck?

Like if i do that i can just use sunlight instead of food and also showing what it looks like in a calm environment might be a good idea instead of suddenly having a giant being appear while in conflict with other ships?”

He clapped his hands loudly and I flinched back.

“Brilliant! What a good idea to demonstrate so my sailors don't get a heart attack! Having them distracted during a fight would be a bad thing! Especially since a ship requires a lot of things at once to sail properly!”

Huh, I was just rambling out of nervousness but he thought it was a good idea? Well I wasn't complaining.

He stood up abruptly and walked to the door, I followed behind him still a bit taken back by the waterfall of words he'd used.

He turned to me as he opened the door and strolled out backwards.

“Got any more questions? Oh since you don't really need to eat as long as you can shift have you even tried the food on the ship? If so, how'd you like it? The cooks I have onboard are from all over the known trade routes!”

That guy could talk a lot, even more so than Robin who at least tried to stay on topic.

“Uhh, i did look at the tables? But I did go outside again after I was offered what one of your men called ‘Hardtack’.

I'm not a fan of eating live bugs and the stuff was teeming with maggots sooo…”

Alone the memory made me suppress a shudder, i didn't want to be rude but maggot infested flour block was not something i wanted on my plate.

“Ah the good ol’ Hardtack, it's for the longer journeys! And since it's only flour and a little bit of salt with water there aren't many nutrients in it!

Maggots on the other hand are full of em’! So like half the sailors started eating them with the hardtack when there wasn't much else!

I guess some of them came to like it and now they are eating them even when we got other stuff!

Also one of the cooks figured out how to fry them so they taste even better!

Though i guess to a landrat like you that seem rather unappealing”

Ah, that made some sense? Probably?

If they got used to it they were not as squicked by it as others i guess.

And the captain really did talk a LOT, which i didn't find always necessary but whatever, as long as i understood what he was saying it was fine.

I started to regret asking as he led me to the front side of the large deck but there was nothing to be done about that now.

Ughhh and only because a bunch of maggots squicked me out!

To be fair the sight had briefly reminded me of what I had seen in the forest so long ago.

I had basically kidnapped Robin back then and walked aimlessly through the forest where some weird multi eyed fox deer with tusks rammed a maggot infested tree only to have magpies swarm down and eat them.

Not a fond memory, and I still had no idea what that even was about.

I didn't want to anyway.

Captain Nemas led me to the front of the deck where there was enough space and told me to just hang out here while he informed the crewmantes.

Oh, that would mean they would stare at me, Now I really regretted asking.

But my rambly assessment that it was better to show them beforehand what the Ardua looked like was still valid.

I wasn't keen on having someone aim the ships cannons at me because they got scared or confused me for an enemy.

Also it was a little funny seeing him run around in his captain's coat and hat and tell his sailors not to freak out when a Giant ‘Green lion’ appeared today.

He was talking as unrelenting as the waves crashing against the boat and chatted to everyone about whatever they were doing.

That took quite a lot of time, during which Rikaad actually appeared, which made me wonder where the fuck he was staying on the ship.

“I have to say, informing them beforehand what an Ardua looks like is a good idea, less chance of anyone freaking out and losing focus should we clash with the Maringand Boats”

I numbly nodded at him, while it was the smart thing to do I still wasn't really comfortable having people stare at me.

I didn't even want to talk about that as I was sure I'd lose my nerves beforehand.

So I talked about the first thing that came to mind, which was still the Hardtack thing.

“I guess so, did you see that they have some sort of maggot flour block called hardtack? After i saw that i just went outside again”

His usually rather emotionless face cracked for a moment, and it was safe to assume by the face he made for a split second that he did indeed see it.

“I have, regrettably so, seen it and then left the room just like you did”

Glad to know I wasn't the only one who had a negative reaction to it.

“Well someone did explain why that was there, but a warning would have been nice still”

He nodded in agreement and I had a feeling neither of us would go back there today.

Looking past Rikaad I could see captain Nemas still running around, which on the ever swaying boat was impressive as he'd not once fallen over.

By now he had informed the majority of the sailors, some of which just continued working,

apparently not thinking anything much of it.

Hoo fuck, but at least there were barely any people gawking as i was sure my nerves wouldn’t have been able to handle that.

As i thought Nemas was done taking his mouth off at the sailors and came back over, waving at us as he did so.

“Well! Now nobody should freak out! If you're sure there's enough space you can show what your other form looks like!

I do wonder though why it's green? An animal isn't a plant after all,

then again I rarely see either of those out on the ship anyway!”

Tuning out the captain talking on and on I stood a few paces away and turned the gem on the bracelet that let me shift.

In barely a moment I changed into the familiar giant form of the Ardua.

For a second i expected someone to scream or otherwise be terrified but as it was no one gave really a fuck.

These guys were weird, well so was i.

The only one gawking at me with curiosity was the captain, but he was mainly staring at my back, saying in the most confused voice I had ever heard.

“Are those plants? On your back I mean, and are those dandelions? aren't you a mammal? Not a plant?”

I loafed like a cat on the deck to get more stability on the swaying wood before answering him.

“Well, yes that's plants, but I'm still a mammal, they just grow there like hair, I think they are meant to help me absorb sunlight? Not sure though”

He came a little closer to examine it in more detail, an almost childlike wonder in his eyes.

Well, he did imply to have lived on the ship for most of his life, so who knew when he'd gotten to see field flowers closeup last time?

Just then Robin walked out of the ship, a gray colored cat in his arms.

When he noticed me in my Ardua form his face visibly brightened and he walked over as fast as he could without tripping or dropping the cat.

Strangely enough the cat didn't seem to mind as Robin put him on the ground in front of me, instead opting to brush up against my elbow and upper arm.

It was weird that cats weren't scared of me, they had every reason to.

Maybe it was because I somewhat looked like a big version of them?

“I think there's catnip growing on your shoulder and elbow”

Catnip? Why that? And how did Robin even know what that looked like?

Oh wait nevermind that last question, but still, catnip? No wonder the tiny Felines still came up to a giant plant lion thing like the Ardua.

It wasn't that they weren't scared, they just wanted catnip.

I felt kinda disappointed by that, I had hoped that I wasn't so scary even in that form but as it turned out they just wanted one of the plants that grew on me.

But that was still better than them being scared so there was at least that.

I stayed as an Ardua for the rest of the day, with Robin sitting next to me or using me as a pillow while cuddling with the three legged cat.

The cat himself purred at the attention, Which considering his voice sounded terribly scratchy and stopped at random intervals to pick back up stutteringly a moment later.

The sailors for the most part were only mildly distracted, not really caring somehow about the, who even knew how tall, Ardua next to them on the deck.

The only one that complained was someone that needed to move a heavier crate where I was in the way.

That was solved by standing up for a bit and letting me shove it through under myself.

While sunning myself I heard some of the sailors tell more stories, some of them even about sea monsters.

Huh, i wondered if there were any sea monsters in these waters, I hoped not.

Though it was really strange that no one batted an eye at me unless I was in the way, so I decided to ask Nemas the next time he came within earshot.

“Nemas! I have a question, could you come over here for a second?” He walked over to me at a brisk pace and tugged at his coat when it got snagged by the corner of a crate.

“What is it? Don't tell me you got seasick! That would be bad! Or is-”

I interrupted him before he talked even more again.

“No, I'm fine! Really! I just wanted to ask how you and your men are so indifferent? I guess? About a literary Giant with claws on your boat, i mean anyone else would be pretty afraid”

He tilted his head for a moment and I could see his tattoo in great detail.

“Well, we aren't afraid of you because you really can't do anything to us without also dooming yourself.

You don't know much about ships, and a big one like this needs many people to keep going, on top of that if you even where to destroy it then you'd be stuck in the middle of the ocean and drown.

So we don't really have any reason to be afraid, if you fuck us over then you're also absolutely screwed!”

Oh, well, he was right about that, if anything happened to the boat I'd just go down with it, and that would suck.

So really, they didn't have reason to believe I would do that, I didn't know shit about boats anyway.

Then Nemas pointed at the cat who was laying on top of a sleepy Robin.

“Also Smokey doesn't seem to have anything against you! And thus far he's always hissed at shady people!”

Huh, id better not mention the catnip then?

Probably better if I didn't.

Though if their bar was, cant fuck us over without dooming themselves and the judgement of a three legged cat they might run into big trouble someday.

Though they also agreed to let us on board to fight other ships.

These guys were weird, though I had not much room to talk in that regard.

It wasn't too long after that the sun went down so I shifted back to the human sized one much to the dismay of Robin and the cat who now had no more catnip.

To be fair he had chewed a good chunk off my elbow so there was bound to be some on the ground.

I gave him a friendly pat on the head and then left for my quarters with a tired Robin behind me.

How he was tired after doing basically nothing was a mystery to me, though maybe he'd run around the inside of the ship while I had shifted.

Whatever, I went to my hammock and used the rest of the daylight to try and read something Rikaad had lent me to help me get better at reading.

It was a book about how to write neatly and legibly, of course he'd pick something like that for me.

The book itself was incredibly boring, so much so that I fell asleep before it got properly dark.

The next time I woke up was because I got flung out of the hammock and face first onto the floor.

What the fuck?-

“Ouch!”

The book that was previously on my lap landed on my head.

I tossed the thing to the side before standing up with a pounding head.

Only to fall over immediately again.

Getting my senses back in order I noticed that the entire floor was tilting left and right like mad, making balancing a nightmare.

Then I heard it, loud waves crashing against wood and the heavy pitter of rain.

A storm!

The ship tilted heavily to the left and I slid on the wooden floor into the table.

Ugh, good thing it was bolted down to the floor.

I looked over to where Robin's bed was only to find it empty.

What? Where was he?

I fell over again to the other side into the wall, the book I had tossed earlier colliding with my leg.

Grabbing at the wall i stood back up again, trying to see if Robin was anywhere else in the small room.

He wasn't there.

Why? It had been late, He should be here sleeping?

Wait, his bed was anchored to the floor, and thus would have noticed the crazy waves sooner than me!

He must have gone out to ask what was going on!

Oh no, oh no OH NO

I stumbled out the door and went along the little walkspace that led to the cabins, trying to get to the outside door without falling over too much.

At one point shortly before I reached the door the entire ship went sideways, making me slam into what was previously the wall.

That would leave bruises for sure.

Then the gravity went back again, and this time I slammed into the actual floor.

I was now VERY glad they kept everything bolted down.

I managed to get to the stairs only to slam into them as the ship dipped forward, but I managed to catch myself with my shoulder instead of face.

Not bothering to stand up here as I would just fall again I crawled up on all fours, only stumbling twice.

When I reached the top I grabbed the doorknob, holding on for dear life as another wave hit the ship, making the door slam open and me into the adjacent wall while holding on like mad.

Swinging around I could actually look outside, well look was a bit much.

There was a LOT of rain, so much so that I could only make out what was there up to the middle mast of the ship.

Fuck, i hoped Robin was only on the other side somewhere and not in the ocean.

Maybe he was lucky and managed to shelter in the dining room.

I heard a strange strangled and scratchy yowl then, something that definitely wasn't human.

Looking around I saw nothing at first, and over the tosing water it was hard to make out where the noise came from.

Then I heard it again and managed to somewhat pinpoint where it Originated from.

It was the gray cat! He was tangled in a spare rope that had tied itself around the first mast!

Oh fuck! The poor thing!

Against better judgment and survival instincts I went out to the deck to try and get him.

I grabbed another rope that was used to tether a crate that was long since gone now and used it to not fall overboard when the ship tilted.

I slid around horribly and sometimes the waves crashed over the railing, dousing me and making it extremely hard to get to the cat.

I reached him eventually after a big wave drenched us both even more.

I untied him as best as I could in the ever shifting environment while I tried not to slide around too much while also holding onto the rope I had picked up.

I managed to untie him after fumbling around and he still clung to a part of the rope.

I grabbed him with one arm and held him against my chest where he immediately dug the claws of his remaining front leg in.

That was fine, as long as I got him to safety.

I was thrown over on my ass as another wave hit the ship, making it jerk suddenly.

While falling over I could see a bit more of the latter half of the ship as I was now closer than before.

My heart stopped for a second as I saw a familiar redhead hold onto another familiar form that was tethered by a rope to who knew what.

Why were Rikaad and Robin out here???

I couldn't go over though, I still held the cat, so I got as close to the open door as I could and tried to stay steady, which was an incredibly hard task.

I grabbed the cat that was clinging onto me for dear life and then, as mean as it was, tossed him down the stairs into the ship so he wouldn't fall off the boat into the ocean in this storm.

I looked back again to where I last saw the other two, noticing there were some sailors as well struggling to close the main sail.

Oh, that's why there were people out, they needed to close the sail!

Another wave hit the ship, making me stumble.

I watched in horror as the rope Rikaad was tied to while holding Robin suddenly snapped, making them slide over the deck.

To my great relief Rikaad managed to hold onto the railing and Robin at the same time, now they just had to get away from there!

They tried to make their way inside, using the rail as an anchor to try and stay upright while they walked as water sloshed heavily over the boat, threatening to make them slip with each step if they weren’t careful.

The floor lurched beneath them for a moment as another wave hit the side of the ship, but thankfully they were able to keep their grip on the rail while the sailors continued to try and pull the sail.

Then another wave hit and I was flushed over the railing in a rush of water, banging against the side of the ship as I dangled from the rope.

Only to be hit by another wave that transported me back onto the ship barely a second later.

that was terrifying as fuck, never again please.

There was a loud boom and lightning hit the middle mast, breaking it and making it tip over.

Right to where Rikaad and Robin were!

Oh no!

Without thinking I let go of the rope and sprinted over the deck towards them, not caring about the slickness of the wood.

While I ran as fast as I could I twisted the gem on the bracelet to turn into the Ardua form and dashed forward to stop the heavy wooden pole from falling on top of them.

Instead the thing crashed on top of me.

I slid from the sudden weight and when another big wave hit the boat I was swept over the side into the cold water.

I resurfaced only to have the broken mast hit me square on the head, dragging me under from the force.

At that point my body decided it had taken enough damage to warrant blacking out, which I promptly did as I sank under the waves.

NEXT / PREVIOUS / OVERSIGHT

#sstc #lizards writing #vore story #g/t vore #g/t story #giant/tiny #extreme cuddling #original characters #original character #original story #Ardua #Kamerasca #Maringand #Barmea #Ship #still subject to change #nsx vore

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feitanxo · 1 year ago

Text

Introduction posttttt

WHATS UP ITS MEEEE

ok i’ll start by saying that i am one of the most chaotic people in the world jus ask my best friends.

i love reading like really really really really love it. if i dont read i will die.

this introduction will probably be long-

ok.

my favorite fandom is shadowhunters. I LOVE THE MORTAL INSTRUMENTS SO MUCH

mangos.

Im so in love with Jace, he’s so perfection.

I also really love music, BUT THE ONLY MUSIC I LISTEN TO IS ABEL’S.

HERE ARE SOME OF MY FAVORITE ABEL’S SONGS:

Or nah, king of the fall, reminder, call out my name, less than zero, curve, earned it, double fantasy, after hours, how do i make you love me, shameless, angel, scared to live, six feet under, hurricane, love me harder, wicked games, valerie, coming out strong, smile, snowchild, party monster, i feel it coming, thursday, over now, one right now, starboy, popular, die for you, creepin’, save your tears, out of time, K-POP, heartless, unfazed, dark times, in your eyes, power is power, can’t feel my face, sacrifice, i heard you’re married, moth to a flame, lust for life, one of the girls, the hills, false alarm, and more.

My favorite thing is to read while listen to his music.

well, its already obvious, but my favorite game is genshin impact. i play on asia server with the UID 870141767, pls add me i have no friends :(

CHILDE IS LOVE CHILDE IS LIFE IF I CAN’T HAVE CHILDE THERE’S NOTHING LEFT. MY LOVE, MY DARLING, MY HEART, MY EVERYTHING!!! WORDS CANNOT EXPRESS HOW MUCH LOVE I FEEL FOR YOU!! I ADORE, AM IN LOVE, AM SMITTEN, HAVE A CRUSH ON, WANT YOU SO BAD IT PHYSICALLY HURTS, ADMIRE, APPRECIATE, AM CRAZY ABOUT, HARDCORE SIMP FOR, AM FOND OF, HOLD AFFECTIONS FOR, FEEL PASSION FOR, HAS A DEEP FEELING OF CLOSENESS FOR, AM ATTACHED TO, CHERISH THE MOST, DOTE ON THE MOST, CARE FOR, LUST FOR, AM DEVOTED TO, WORSHIP FOR, YEARN FOR, HAS A WEAKNESS FOR, IDOLIZE, TREASURE, AM ABSOLUTELY CRAZY FOR YOU!!!!! CHILDE, I LOVE YOU SO MUCH IT HURTS. I WANT YOU SO BAD. YOURE MINE, AND ALWAYS HAS BEEN. I WANNA HAUL YOU ONTO MY BED AND CUDDLE YOU FOR HOURS AND HOURS AND HOURS AND WEEKS AND MONTHS AND YEARS. WHEN I GROW UP I AM DEFINITELY GONNA MARRY YOU. YOU HAVE ALWAYS BEEN THE LIGHT OF MY LIFE, THE ONLY FLAME OF BRIGHTNESS IN MY DARKEST HOURS. YOU ARE PURE PERFECTION. THAT SILKY GINGER HAIR, TWINKLING BLUE EYES, AND THAT MISCHIEVOUS SMIRK..GOD, HOW COULD ANYONE NOT FALL FOR YOU?? I LOVE YOU SO MUCH TO THE POINT THAT ITS NOT EVEN CALLED SIMPING ANYMORE. IF YOU WERE REAL, I’D DEFINITELY MARRY YOU IN A HEARTBEAT. I HAVE A SOFT SPOT FOR YOU SO MUCH..IF I DONT HAVE A SIMPING SESSION OF YOU EVERYDAY I WOULD LITERALLY DIE. I HONESTLY JUST WISH YOU WERE A REAL PERSON IN THIS WORLD..SO THAT I COULD KISS YOU EVERYDAY. YOU HAVE ALWAYS BEEN MY FAVORITE, MY MAIN. NOBODY WILL STEAL YOU FROM ME. I JUST LOVE YOU SO MUCH HIODNVIWNHFVWINVJIEFVHUIFSWHNUIEFVNHEVF..JUST LOOK AT THE PARAGRAPH I WROTE YOU FOR YOUR BIRTHDAY, YOU ARE THE MOST HANDSOME, ETHEREAL, PERFECT, FLAWLESS, EXCELLENT, BEAUTIFUL, ATTRACTIVE, PRETTY, LOVELY, WONDERFUL, CUTE, FANTASTIC, CHARMING, STUNNING, RAVISHING, DAZZLING, STRIKING, GLAMOROUS, AMAZING, ALLURING, OUTSTANDING, AWESOME, BRAVE, MAGNIFICENT, MIND-BLOWING, GOOD-LOOKING, EXQUISITE, FABULOUS, SWEET, THOUGHTFUL, PERSON I KNOW. PLEASE, JUST BE A REAL PERSON.

was that a bit much..? nah

i have more than 1000 fictional crushes but childe’s my lifelong favorite

i also play pjsk (ISTG MY SISTER TOLD ME TO PLAY) and my darling is toya <3

idk if it seems obvious but im oddly attracted to fictional males with blonde/red/ginger hair. (fuji, cale, jace, childe, etc)

i like reADING AO3!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

i spend 25 hours on ao3 a day lmao

my otp is zhongchi, capichi, malace, chiscara, and more

IM BI BTW IF YOU GUYS WANNA KNOW

aND I HAVE A HOPELESS CRUSH ON THIS DUDE WHO HAS LIKE 500.8K SUBS ON TIKTOK WHO IS IN MY SCHOOL AND IN THE GRADE ABOVE MINE. ITS COMPLICATED. AND IM ALSO IN LOVE WITH MY BEST FRIEND. IDK WHY

there’s so much drama (“trauma”) in my life (do yall get it?????)

i love creating chaos.

and i also love watching animee

my favorite anime is hunter x hunter cause feitan is hawt as hell (which is also my name btw)

im a FANBOY. IDC WHAT YOU GUYS SAY IM A FANBOY

my pronouns are he/him yeah

UhhHhHhBBYUGSYBGUX anyone wanna be friends???????????????

#intro post #childe #genshin impact #im going insane #idk what else to tag #idk what im doing #idk lmao

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adridoot · 2 years ago

Note

Have anymore hcs or ideas around our favorite ginger lad?

So many that my mind went blank

Fireheart had to be dragged into the medicine cat den to rest a few times while trying to keep Thunderclan together, at first it was Sandstorm scruffing him and dragging him. Now when Graystripe joined, the big fluffy lad could put Fireheart on his back and skip all the way there. This still happens when he's leader.

Kits!! My man loves kits. He has a softspot for kittens. They can bite at his tail and he'll just let them. He plays with them constantly, even when he's basically an elder.

He is so, tired of being called a kittypet constantly. It comes to the point where he's just 'call me something original ffs'. Not to mention he just hates that no matter what he does, he'll always be just a kittypet. It's kinda a sore spot, so his close friends dont use it on him and also almost slap others when they use it.

Going back to kits, when Leaf and Squirrel were still babies he would lay with them while Sandstorm went out. He is a living toaster so a lot of kittens tend to crowd around him. He does spend a lot of time watching over the kits to give the queens a break.

He did this while also a warrior, so all the queens ended up with a soft spot for him. They still do, even if they want to throttle him when he apprentices them without warning

Big cuddler!! He loves to cuddle. He will not sleep alone in the leader's den, he doesnt like sleeping alone!!

Since I see him as being quite small, he gets mistaken for an apprentice a lot. The mentors of the cats who think he's a kit usually make them apologise but he just laughs it off. Harmless fun after all!

He mourns every cat he has lost, every one. He will sit at every vigil until its time for burial, and he will sit with those mourning.

He wakes up from nightmares a lot, he doesn't like to talk about it.

#warrior cats #firestar #wc #warrior cat headcannons #doritopaw101 #all i could come up with off the top of my head oop #i love him a whole lot

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kittykatwrittingxoxo1 · 2 months ago

Text

Harry Potter/The Magnus Archive crossover fic

Harry Potter and The Archivist: Chapter 3

Rated: M

(Tags: Tim stoker/Jonathan Sims, Harry is raised by others, Good Hermione Granger, Good Ron Wesley, Bad Dumbledore, The mechanisms were jons old band, trans Jon, mentioned child abuse, fears)

[ Chapter 3 ]

............

The woman's nails clacking against her keyboard was the only sound in the waiting room, her brows drawn together and her dark blue eyes hard as she focused on her typing, the ginger haired woman looks at Jon and Tim before her eyes settle on Harry.

“Are you the one that needs to talk to the police, young man?” She asked in a gentle voice.

Harry's nods, staying quiet, his shoulders drawn up almost to his ears.

She nods and types something on the computer, “Can you tell me your name?” The woman asked.

“H-Harry Potter.” Harry stuttered out, his grip on Jon's hand tightening so much Jon was afraid the boy might pop one of his fingers out of the socket.

The woman nods again, “Harry Potter,” she sounds out as she types in into the document, “When's your birthday?”

Harry looks at the woman and looks at Jon, his eyes full of confusion before he looks back at the woman.

“I dont know.” Harry mutters, his small voice full of shame, like it was his fault that he didn't know his own birthday.

The woman's typing pauses for a second before continuing, she turns her gaze to Jon, “Do you know his birthday?” she asked.

Jon nods, “Yes, it's the thirty-first of July.” Jon says, and looks down at Harry, the small boy looking up at him with shock written on his face.

The woman types Harry's birthday into the computer, “Why do you suspect child abuse?” She asked.

“Because my aunt who was raising him called me to take him in before seven thirty or else she'd leave him at the firehouse.” Jon explained.

The ginger woman's blue eyes widened a bit before nodding and continuing to type, “So you are related to Mr.Potter?” The woman asked.

“Yes, he's my cousin.”

The woman nods again and doesn't ask anymore questions, his typing fast. She hits send on the document and picks up the phone that's on the desk, she pushes a button and waits as it rings.

“Officer Scott, I have three people here who are wanting to file a case and I need three officers to take their statements.” The woman said, her voice still light.

She hums a bit in agreement at whatever Officer Scott was saying.

“It's a child abuse case.” She said.

A few more minutes of silence before she nods.

“Exactly, thank you Officer Scott.” She says and hangs up the phone before turning her gaze on the trio in front of her.

“Officer Scott will be out in a moment to take you three to the back where three other Officers will separate you and take your statements.” The woman says.

Harry starts hugging Jon's leg with his empty hand, he buries his face into Jon's slacks and shakes his head.

“I don't want you to leave.” Harry whimpers, hears now soaking through the fabric of Jon's slacks.

Jon kneels down and moves Harry around so he can hug the boy properly.

“I'm not leaving you,” Jon said, his arms tightening around the boy, “I'll just be in another room talking to another cop while you talk with one.”

Harry just shakes his head that's now buried in Jon's shoulder.

Tim puts a comforting hand on Harry's head and runs his fingers through the messy curls.

“We won't leave you, I promise you that.” Tim says gently.

Harry pulls his face off of Jon's shoulder to look at Tim, tears in his bright green eyes.

Harry sniffs wetly, “Pinky promise?” Harry asked, the tall man as he raised his small delicate hand out, his hand in a fist but with his pinky finger held out.

Tim's eyes widened a touch as Harry's words echoed words of someone who was no longer alive. Tim's eyes watered a bit and he held out his pinky and wrapped it around Harry's much smaller one.

“I pinky promise me and Jon won't leave you.” Tim promises, his voice brittle and a ball in his throat, Tim makes a promise to himself he'll never let Harry believe that he'd ever leave him by himself.

Harry smiled, tears still in his eyes as he wrapped his pinky around Tim's, happy the older man promised. The sound of a door opening had the three turning their head to look and saw a tall man in a police uniform, his postur tense, his gray eyes hard as he looked at the trio.

“I'm officer Hamish Scott and I'm here to take you three into the back.” The man said, his voice husky from what Jon recognizes as a smoker's voice since his own voice started getting husky when he smoked.

Jon and Tim stood up, Jon kept a hold on Harry's hand and Tim made sure to stay close beside the boy and let officer Scott lead them into the back. They passed by other cops, some were sitting at desks, some were talking and one looked a bit familiar to Jon but before he could do a double take he was led away from Tim and Harry. Jon turns his head as a female officer leads Harry to a room beside Tim's.

Officer Scott closes the door to the interrogation room and has Jon sit in a chair. Jon sits down on the chair, Jon looks at the officer and really looks at his appearance. Officer Scott has tan skin, his hair black and slick back making Jon think about how Elias styles his hair. Officer Scott sits in the chair across from Jon and in his hand is a clipboard that Jon didn't realize he's been holding.

Officer Scott clears his throat and flips through some of the papers before looking at Jon.

“How are you related to Mr. Potter?” He asked in his gruff voice.

“I'm his cousin, we share a great, great grandfather.” Jon said as he crossed his arms to keep warm, the room was chilly and was making the tips of his fingers feel like they were freezing.

Officer Scott nodded as he wrote that down, “Do you know why Mr. Potter was put in Mrs. Dursley’s custody?” Officer Scott asked.

Jon nods with a heavy heart, “Yes, his mother Lilly died of a gas explosion around Halloween,” Jon said, his throat feeling like a ball was stuck in it, “I knew he was place in Petunia’s custody but I didn't know she still hated her sister to such a degree.”

Officer Scott nods again and writes on the paper on his clipboard, “When did you notice that Mr. Potter was being abused bad enough to take him from her?” The older man asked.

“I didn't,” Jon said “Petunia wouldn't let me visit him, the only reason I found out about the abuse is because I was buying him some new clothes and I saw…” Jon's words trailing off as he remembers the dark bruises on Harry's stomach and the scars.

“You saw?”

Jon sucked in a shaky breath, “I saw a big bruise on his stomach like he was punched or kicked in the stomach,” Jon said, his grip on his own arms tightening as he described Harry's wounds, “He has scars on his back and shoulders.”

The hazel eyed officer’s hand tightens around the pen he was writing with as he writes down what Jon was saying.

“Did you ever suspect Mr. Potter would be abused by Mrs. Dursley?”

“I honestly didn't think that Petunia would sink so low to take her anger out on her dead sister’s son.” Jon said honestly, he knew she probably still held bitterness but never thought she'd abuse the boy or would let her husband hurt her only nephew.

The Officer continues to write, “Why did Mrs. Dursley have such anger towards her sister?” The man asked.

Jon tells the officer the same story he told Tim, how Lilly got into a fancy school, how she got higher grades than Petunia and how Lilly married a young Lord. The officer nods as he writes and writes and writes.

The questions keep going, Jon can feel himself getting tired as the clock on the wall to the right of ticks loudly in the mostly empty room, Jon's hands now rubbing up and down his arms trying to warm himself up in the chilly room. Officer Scott is quiet now, he's reading what he wrote down making sure he wrote everything correctly. The older man sighs and rubs his eyes.

“Hate working abuse cases,” The gray eyed man said tiredly as he shifted through the papers, “Kids shouldn't be hurt like that.”

Jon nods, “Yeah… Harry is so small and I can't even imagine how anyone could raise a hand to the kid.” Jon said quietly, he remembers looking in Harry's eyes, how the child had the look of someone that is forcing themselves not to hope because the last time they did it landed in heartbreak.

The officer stands from his seat.

“Thank you for answering my questions Mr. Sims.” Officer Scott said, signaling for Jon to also stand.

Jon stands and follows the officer as he opens the door and walks out, Jon sees Tim sitting in a chair next to a closed door. Tim's leaned back, his eyes closed and his leg bouncing with nerves. Tim's eyes snapped open at the sound of Jon's footsteps coming closer to him.

Tim sits up looking at Jon with a worried expression, “You ok?” He asked as Jon sat in the chair next to the asian man.

Jon nods with a sigh, feeling more tired than he was when he got the dreaded phone call from his aunt Petunia.

“Yeah, just stressed from everything.” Jon admitted, his voice defeated, the emotional rollercoaster of a day is getting to the long haired man.

Tim pats Jon's back gently with a face full of understanding, his eyes holding a bit of sympathy as he looks at how tired his boss looked. The tired look, the graying hair and the dark green sweater Jon was wearing makes him look older than he is so he probably looks ancient to Tim right now.

“I get it, boss man,” Tim said as he pulled his hand away and leaned back in his chair again. “It's been a long day.”

“Yeah,” Jon sighs, he pulls out his phone and checks the time and sees how late it is, “Jesus, it's almost eleven.” Jon said as he leaned back into his out chair.

Tim let out a small groan and stretched a bit, “No wonder I'm so tired, God damn.” Tim said with a yawn.

The two men sit in the stiff seats next to the room that Harry was in, they watch the clock tick on by, Tim starts pacing and Jon gets a cup of water before they sit back down. When the clock hits twelve thirty the door of the room finally opens showing a brown haired female officer and a tired eight year old.

Harry looked tired and looked like he cried but as soon as his eyes saw Tim and Jon still there, his eyes brightened and a smile grew on his little face.

“You're still here!” Harry exclaimed, running up to Jon and giving him a hug as the older man stood up.

Tim let out a chuckle and patted the boy's messy dark hair, “Of course we're still here, I pinky promised.” Tim said gently.

Harry looked up at Tim with a grin as he hugged Jon's legs tighter.

The female officer cleared her throat causing Jon and Tim to look at her, her brown eyes gentle but stern as she looked at Jon.

“From Mr. Potters statement we can confidently say that Mr and Mrs. Dursley will be brought in and booked,” the officer said as she walks the trio to the door to the waiting room, “Mr. Sims, you are now the guardian of Mr. Potter and you can call anytime to check on how the case is progressing.” She said as she opened the waiting room door.

Jon nods with a thankful look on his face, “Thank you officer.” Jon said as he shook her hand.

“Just doing what's right,” She said with a smile and gestures to the waiting room, “Now get going, Mr. Potter looks like he's about to fall asleep standing.”

At the officers' words, Tim and Jon looked down at Harry and saw him sway on his feet, a hand under his glasses rubbing at his eyes and letting out a big yawn.

Jon feels a swell of warmth fill his heart as he sees the tired boy's actions, he leans down and gently picks up Harry. Harry instantly wraps his arms and legs around Jon and tucks his face into the older man's neck, his breathing soft and his glasses cold against Jon's neck.

Jon gives the female officer a nod and walks into the waiting room with Tim, giving the receptionist a thankful look before walking out of the police station. The two men walk to the car, Jon gently setting Harry in the back and buckling him up before getting in the front, Tim starts the car and starts driving to Jon's apartment.

……..

Tim pulls into Jon's apartment's parking lot, Jon gets out, opening up the back door and getting Harry out, he holds the child as Tim grabs some of Harry's new things.

Tim follows Jon to his apartment, he's curious about how the other lives. Was it messy, did he only have a couch and no TV? Or is he a neat freak? The questions were swirling around in Tims mind as they got closer and closer to Jon's apartment.

Jon struggled a bit to find his keys in his pockets but he got them in his hand, unlocked the door and opened it and walked in.

Tim looks around at a perfectly normal apartment. A small TV, a couch, some pictures on the wall of a smaller Jon and an older woman. Tim could see some statements that Jon brought home on the coffee table next to an empty mug. Tim didn't know what he was expecting but him now knowing what Jon's apartment looks like was kinda anticlimactic.

Jon goes down a small hallway and walks into his room, he pulls back the dark blue cotton blankets, gently laying Harry down, covering him up and taking the boys glasses off, folding them gently and placing them on the bedside table before giving his hair a gentle stroke and leaves the room.

Jon walks back into his living room to see Tim opening up random drawers and cabinets.

“Being nosey?” Jon joked with a chuckle as he saw Tim jump at the sound of his voice.

“Oh- hey boss!” Tim said, stumbling over his words, “I was just… being nosey.” Tim admitted, with a sheepish grin on his face as he rubbed the back of his neck.

Jon shakes his head with a chuckle as he walks into his kitchen and starts making a pot of coffee. Jon can hear Tim follow him into the kitchen, he doesn't say anything, just watches Jon scoop out some coffee grounds, putting them into the filter and closing the top of the coffee maker. The kitchen is quiet as Jon walks around, putting up some sippy cups and plastic cups with the same blue cartoon dog that Harry has taken a shine too.

Tim watches Jon put Harry's stuff away in the kitchen, he watches as Jon washes and drys the small plastic dishes and puts them away next to his porcelain dishes, proof that Harry is now living here in the graying haired man's apartment.

Jon pores two cups of coffee, he sweetens Tim's coffees to the intense sweetness he normally likes and Jon just scoops two teaspoons of sugar into his own mug. Jon hands Tim his mug and blows on his coffee till it was the perfect temperature to sip from.

Tim sips his coffee, his thoughts all over the place, from Harry's abuse to Jon's coming out and to how much Harry reminds him of his little brother when he was that age.

Tim sighs, the night finally catching up to him.

“Why did you call Harry your nephew when he's your cousin?” Tim asked, he's been thinking about that question since he heard Jon call himself Harry's cousin.

Jon shrugged, “it started with Lilly calling me uncle Jon when she was pregnant with Harry,” Jon said “She would talk about how much Harry would love his ‘uncle Jon’ and how much he'll love me reading to him.” Jon's voice trailed off, his voice thick with emotion.

Jon sucked in a shaky breath, “She was like my sister and I feel horrible about not forcing Petunia to let me see him.” Jon said with a dry sob.

Jon places his mug on the kitchen counter, not wanting to spill any of the hot liquid as his hands start to shake.

Tim places his mug beside Jon's and pulls the shorter man into his arms, Jon's head tucked under the taller man's chin, face buried in his chest. Jon's shoulders shake with his silent crying and Tim keeps him wrapped tightly in his arms, whispering ‘It wasn't your fault.’ and ‘He has you now’ into Jon's hair.

Jon pulls back after a few minutes, wiping his eyes with a wet sniffle.

“I'm sorr-” Jon was cut off.

“No,” Tim shakes his head “Don't say you're sorry for crying, it's been a stressful day and if Harry was my cousin, I'd also be crying.” Tim says as he places his hands on Jon's shoulders.

“But I-” Jon was once again cut off by Tim.

“But nothing,” Tim said, his brown eyes holding so much compassion in them, “What your aunt did wasn't your fault and it wasn't your fault for not knowing.”

Jon looks at Tim, his own brown eyes red rimmed and teary still.

“You respected her design to not have you in Harry's life and she broke that little trust by being an abusive cunt.” Tim said, the taller man's words caused Jon to let out a snort.

Tim smiled at Jon's snort, “There you go,” Tim said as he gives Jon's shoulders a gentle squeeze and pulls his hands away, “Just remember that Harry's here with you now and he now has a chance to heal.”

Jon nods, “Yes, thank you Tim,” Jon said, his voice still a bit shaky, “I truly mean that.”

Tim gives Jon a grin and picks up his now slightly warm coffee.

Jon looked at the clock on his microwave and saw that it was two fifteen in the morning.

“It's two in the morning.” Jon said with a groan, feeling the exhaustion seep into his joints and making them ache.

Tim sighs, feeling exhausted from the stressful and emotional day.

“I should head out.” Tim said as he walked to Jon's kitchen sink, pouring out the rest of his cooled coffee.

“You can't dive while you're exhausted, Tim.” Jon said. He walked quickly to the closet next to his front door and pulled out some blankets, “You can sleep on the couch.”

Tim watches as Jon makes up the couch without hearing if the asian man even wanted to stay the night.

Jon pulls out two pillows from the closet before shutting the door and places them on the couch.

“Guess I can stay the night.” Tim said with a laugh, taking his jean jacket off and laying it on the coffee table, being careful to not cover any of the papers on the table.

Jon sees that and starts picking up the loose papers and putting them into a drawer.

“Sorry about the papers, I was reading some statements and checking out some leads when I couldn't sleep.” Jon admitted.

Tim was in the middle of unbuttoning his bright colored shirt, his white undershirt now exposed when Jon admitted following leads when he couldn't sleep.

“Double boss lets you do that?” Tim asked as he finishes unbuttoning his shirt and lays it on his jacket.

“Elias knows,” Jon said as he walks down the hall and walks into his room. Jon picks up some pajama pants that were a bit too big and walks back into the living room, “He even told me Gertrude even went off on her own when she was head archivist.” Jon tells Tim and hands the pajama pants to the older man.

Tim's nose curls a bit, “doesn't sound safe,” Tim says as he takes the pajamas, “Especially at night.”

Jon just shrugs his shoulders, “Bathroom is the door on the left before you get to my bedroom.” Jon directs Tim.

Tim nods and walks to the bathroom, closing the door Tim looks around a bit. Jon has a shower, the shower curtain is a simple white, the walls are a cream color, he has dark blue bathroom mats next to the shower and sink, on the sink is a cup with a toothbrush and razor. It wasn't decorated with pictures like the living room but it was very Jon.

Quickly changing into the gray pajama bottoms and washing his face, Tim carries his jeans in his hands as he leaves the bathroom and heads back into the living room and sees Jon in his pajamas.

Jon's wearing a gray shirt that was definitely too big for the lanky man, it had a ghost cat on it with the acronym ‘WTG’ next to the cat, the pajama bottoms were black and purple plaid.

“Nice shirt.” Tim said, startling Jon.

“Thanks, my friend gave it to me.”

“You have friends?” Tim jokes making Jon roll his eyes.

“Yes Tim, I do in fact have friends.” Jon snarks at Tim with a smile on his face.

Tim snickers as he sits on the couch that he's going to be sleeping on.

Jon walks into the kitchen and grabs two cups, one glass and one in a Bluey themed sippy cup and fills them with water, Jon walks back into the living room and sees Tim laying down and texting on his phone, the older man looks from his phone when he hears Jon walk into the room.

“I'm just letting you know I'm going to bed and that you're welcome to anything in the kitchen.” Jon says gently.

Tim grins, “I'll keep that in mind, boss.” Tim said with a thumbs up before going back to his phone, probably letting Sasha know what's going on.

“Goodnight Tim.”

“Night Jon.

Jon walks down the hall and into his room, the long haired man looks at the small body in his bed and sees that Harry has rolled around a bit, putting down the cups in the bedside table, Jon gently untangled Harry from the blankets and covered him back before laying on the foot of the bed and getting ready to sleep.

“Jon?” Small voice has Jon opening his eyes again, he looks over and sees Harry sitting up.

“Can you…” Harry's quiet voice trailed off.

“Can I?” Jon questioned as he sat up, “You can ask me anything, I won't be mad.”

“Can you… hold me?” Harry asked, his face flushing a dark red, “I had a dream.”

Jon rearranges himself so he's laying next to Harry and pulls him into his chest, the small boy snuggles into Jon.

“What dream did you have?” Jon asked gently, “Was it a good dream?”

Harry's head shook, his face buried in the older man's chest.

“A bad dream?” Jon asked, now concerned since Harry wasn't making any noise when he was asleep.

Harry's head nods.

Jon hums gently, “Oh, bad dreams aren't fun,” Jon says “Do you want to tell me about the dream?”

Harry was silent and still, so still that Jon thought the boy fell back asleep till a muffled voice was heard.

“There was a woman, she had red hair and green eyes like mine.” Harry said, his face still buried in Jon's chest.

Jon's eyes widened as Harry described the woman in his dream. Jon knew who the woman was, it was Lilly, Harry's mother.

“She screamed and there was a green light,” Harry said, his voice a bit shaky, “She said she loved me.”

“Oh, Harry.” Jon croaked out, his arms tightening around the small boy. Harry's body starts to gently shake, tears start to seep through Jon's shirt.

“Why did that woman say she loved me?” Harry asked, his voice so small, so confused and so, so sad.

“Because she was your mom,” Jon said, his own voice shaky and full of sadness, “She loved you so much.”

“If she loved me, why was she a whore?” asked Harry as he pulled his face out of Jon's chest, his eyes full of tears.

Jon eyes almost bulged out from how shocked he was, what the fuck did Petunia tell Harry? Jon thought.

“She wasn't a whore, Harry. She was studying to be a teacher.” Jon explained, his voice brittle from the thought that his beloved aunt's child thought she didn't love him.

“She was?” Harry asked, “What about my dad? Was he a drunk?”

Jon shook his head, “He was training to be a cop.” Jon's voice a bit stronger, remembering how excited Lilly and James were to study and train in the field they wanted to work in.

Harry's eyes were wide, tears still in them, “Uncle Vernon lied?” Harry asked.

Jon nods, “yes, Vernon lied.”

Harry's eyes shine with heartbreak and tears start pouring down his face, the boy buries his face back into Jon's chest and starts sobbing, his body shaking violently from how hard he was crying.

“I thought they hated me.” Harry sobs out.

“They loved you so much.”

“I said I hated them once!”

“I'm sure wherever they are, they know you didn't know the truth and don't blame you.” Jon sooths, his hand brushing through Harry's messy hair and holding him close.

Jon just holds Harry as the boy cried himself to sleep and he continued to hold him tightly as he himself closed his eyes but Jon could've sworn that before he drifted to sleep, he heard a quiet ‘Thank you’ that sounded eerily like Lilly.

..........

#harry potter/the magnus archive crossover #harry is raised by others #harry potter fanfic #harry potter fanfiction #harry potter #the magnus archive fic #tma fanfiction #the magnus archives #tma fanfic #do not archive #chapter 3 #harry potter fic #fanfiction #fanfic #crossover fic #harry potter crossover

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inkushel29 · 1 year ago

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shoutout to the time where I complained about a TADC ship for some reason and i got called a ginger because of my orderly pfp then I made a whole ass post about me being mad about it then deleting it and coming to respect TADC ships

Im not even crazy hyperfixated on TADC anymore so

ship whatever you want theyre all adults anyway just dont make Goose suffer PLEASE

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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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