#it took a while to make the books stay flat but it was worth it! ;D

[britishchick09]

a comparison between julie's journal and her books! ;)

bonus:

[bigfatbimbo]

I love you like an Alcoholic

2.1k words,, Bill x Reader

a/n — You did it, you saved the town.

warnings — NSFW, dom!reader, sub!Bill, toxic relationships, book of bill time era, orgasm denial, ambiguous superpowers, NOT PROOFREAD**

summary — Bill goes to his incredibly powerful (moreso than him) business partner, you, to try to get him out of theraprism. Things take a turn.

“I had to pull a lot of strings for this Bill,” you cross your legs and lean back in your thrown. 

Bill straightens his bow-tie, “Well toots, what if I told you I can make it worth your while?”

You breathe and then get up from your chair, “I’d tell you to stop floating in my lair. It’s distracting.”

Snapping your fingers, a bar appears in your otherwise empty room. While pouring yourself a drink, you can feel Bills eye-roll from across the room.

With a tip of his hat, his more human form appears, and sits down at the bar stool next to you. “Better?”

“Could do with more abs.”

He laughs but doesn’t change his appearance, “So, y/n. We go way back, right? I’m not gonna sugar code it, you’ve always been one of my favorites to do business with, doll. Wanna know why?”

“The fact i’m always so interested in what you have to say?”

His eye practically twitched at your indifference. Your attention was never payed in full. “Ha! Don’t flatter your self, pal. No, i’ll tell you why: did you know out of everyone in the galaxy, you’re the only equal I do business with?”

Your eyebrow arches, “equal?”

“Humor me,” he doesn’t give you the chance to reply before continuing. “Now, given my current position in ‘necessary therapy’—“ he makes a point of doing obnoxious air quotes, “—I don’t have much to occupy my days. And we both know i’d be of better use to you out here, right?”

You took another sip of your wine before getting up from the bar and walking over to your throne. The bar disappears behind you, leaving cipher ass-flat on the ground.

“Oh come on—“ His open eye turns red momentarily, before he dusts himself off, “Look, it’s hard being a god, y/n, I know that much. With that responsibility, I think a business partner would do you good. And all you’d have to do is bail me out, that’s practically no downside for you at all, buddy.”

Your patience had been wearing thin, and without further consideration you let out a larger grown from your chair, “Cipher, you’re a liability. I don’t want you. I’m honestly struggling to find enjoyment in sharing a drink with you, despite our history.”

A flick of your hand lifts him off his feet and brings him over to you, “Thought you had a no floating policy, eh?” There’s no fear in his voice, but there is in his eye. He’s losing.

“I’m gonna make this clear to you. You’re gonna take your disgusting human form, and you’re gonna march your happy ass back to theraprism, and you’re gonna stay there. Want my advice? Stop being so damn pathetic.”

A portal opens to take him back and he struggles in your invisible grasp, “No, wait! Please, I’ll do anything, just wait!” 

A human form was already a disadvantage, one he’d accepted in order to strike a deal, but a disadvantage still. And he hadn’t had any contact in a long time, aside from various psychiatrists telling him what’s ’wrong with him.’ 

So, you being someone he has history with could have contributed to his annoyingly human problem. Maybe it was the excitement, your attention or the lack there of, but something terrible happened at that moment. 

“Jesus, Bill. You really have hit rock bottom,” You murmur to yourself as you pull his floating body closer to you, your fingers dance around the bulge without touching it.

“Hey, hey, watch it— Your the one that made me have this stupid fleshbag, anyways— cut that out!” He struggled in the air, finding that he just couldn’t turn back into his normal form. You’re doing, he’d assume. 

To his dismay, you giggle and lean back, “Well now i’m enjoying myself. Now this I could help with, Cipher,”

“Ah, ah pass! Just get me down from here and—“ Back to prison? He’d have to swallow his pride on this one. And besides, it’s not like he wouldn’t like it… “Whatever you want, doll. I’m here all night.”

You examine him further, “Is that so?” 

Before he can answer, you drop him to his knees in front of you. “Ow! Careful with the merchandise, sweetheart. I’m not in mint condition these days— ah!”

Your foot presses down lightly on the bulge in his pants, and your fingers grab onto his chin, “Been a minute since we’ve done this. Huh, Cipher?”

He nods, going to say something, before you interject, “So i’d be good if I was you, baby.”

You press down on his hard-on with more pressure, watching Ciphers face flicker, biting his lip, before letting on a whimper. 

Despite not being his first encounter, so to speak, with you of this nature, it never failed to eat as his pride. And furthermore, despite this, it felt good. If Bill was anything, he was selfish. He could admit he was letting it happen for himself, instead of in spite of himself. So it can’t be that humiliating?

But in this position, there’s always shame.

“Y/n — give me a break—“ He breathed, eye twitching. 

You rolled your eyes and snapped your fingers, with that, his pants were gone and his dick was exposed. That’s another thing he could do without: your unpredictability 

“Next time, say please. Asshole.” You say, lifting him up with your powers once more.

“Wow, buddy. I’m not the one being the jerk here—“ It came out quick, as Bill words often did. But these ones he regretted immediately.

Your eyebrows furrowed, “Tough crowd?” He felt a sensation tugging at the base of his dick, indicating the start of mind games that wouldn’t end anytime soon.

He backtracked. Play it off. “Yeesh, you’re a tough crowd! Did I say jerk? You heard me wrong, I meant lovely— Ah, wait! Wait!”

A wave of pleasure flooded his senses abruptly, followed by a short pinch of pain, similar to what a mortal feels when they prick their finger on a piece of metal. Does that happen a lot? They’re all so clutsy, can’t be that out of the ordinary—

“Smooth talk your way out and maybe I’ll lighten the blow, yeah?” You smile cruelly, hand dangling out, flexing as if teasing what you could do to him.

“I— I know we’ve had our disagreements but I— augh!” A spike of pain, his eye rolled back a bit, “You— I’ve always admired your work— Yes! Respected you even, you’re an idol, sweetheart, ah, yes!”

With each compliment a burst of pleasure would go through him, landing at his unnatural dick, now leaking with precum. He was nearly babbling, but he was as aware of that as he was aware of the fact it was dearly encouraged.

“Very good, Billy. You’re too sweet, really.” Your voice was smooth and you bit your lip, watching him writhe with pleasure mid-air.

“A-anything for you, toots! Ah, more, more!”

He didn’t notice he said anything wrong this time until it was too late, but your face had noticeably darkened at the statement. 

“That’s awful demanding for someone in your position, dontcha’ think?” You weren’t actually mad, of course you weren’t. But you loved to you with him, and you took every opportunity. One of the reasons Bill tried to avoid you when he could; you were far too similar people, dealing in cruelty for the sake of entertainment.

“Wha- No wait!” The attention to his dick ceased to exist, and he was left with only aching for attention again, despite the fact you never gave anything physical in the first place. 

All mind games. “That’s- That’s not fair!”

“I’d watch who you were talking too, baby,” You flick your hand, spreading out his body parts mid air, hard leaking cock protruding out, crying for any kind of sensation. 

“You know what I can do. I’m sure I don’t have to remind you,” You sigh expectantly.

Bill tried to speak to defend himself, to talk his way out, but he found his ability to gone.

“I can make you do what I want, Cipher. Can make you feel whatever I want. Extraordinary pain—“ He cries out for a split second, eye flashing with fear, “—Or overwhelming pleasure.”

This time his eye rolled back, and he moans in wonderful agony, unable to move expect for wriggling his body parts weakly. His dick twitched.

“You like that feeling?”

He nods weakly, eyes fogging up, letting a small whimper escape.

“Don’t want me to hurt you?” Another nod, “Want me to make you feel good? Think you deserve it?”

“Ah— y/n, I need…” He swallows, revising his words in his mind, “Please, I need this.”

It’s true, Bill had never reached such a low in his entire existence. And he wasn’t sure if this interaction was pushing him further down or making him feel better. Now, however, he was struggling to think.

“Aw, baby. You have taken your punishment well? Been having a rough time too..” Your tone switched to something softer, almost to a condescending note.

His pathetic appearance did him justice, he pretended this was on purpose. 

Either way, a whine slipped from his throat and he shut his eyes, playing into it. You cooed in response, bringing him closer to you in order to run your hand along the side of his cheek. 

A spurt of pleasure shoots through his dick once more, and now he can’t help but yearn for something more. “Touch me— I need it— Please.” He threw in, trying to help his chances, despite the struggle at forming a coherent thought other than need.

“Hm,” You consider. Finally you reach out, running a finger along the base of his cock, to the tip. “You really want me to?”

He nodded desperately, mouth falling open to let out a small whine. Swear bedded his hot, red face, and dripped down, make his multiple chins glisten. Ugh, you preferred him further away. His already greasy looking hair was now slick against his forehead, and his eyes were glazed over. 

You slowly shift all of your fingers onto his shaft and then saintly drag them up and down for the first few strokes. A gutteral whimper falls from Ciphers mouth, “Oh, yes!”

“What do we say, baby?” You ask, grip tightening suddenly as if to bring him back to reality, but not too tight. 

“Ah— Thank you!” He’d almost forgotten to detest you for making him say that. And he’d almost forgotten to remind himself to be mad after he was done feeling good.

He used to daydream about taking you down after these sessions. Rising to power and having you at his feet. But now he only wants to keep your attention on him. Now it’s all he can think about. 

You continue to stroke his leaking cock, leaning in to kiss his cheek fat, “Good boy.”

He moaned, “Don’t do that-“

“I’m not patronizing you. I mean it, you’re acting better than usual and i’m glad. Maybe you’re more desperate, or touch-starved, but you’re doing good. I’m proud of you, sweetheart.”

“Ah—“ He would have came right there if he could. And in the most literal sense, he couldn’t. You weren’t letting him. “Please, let me come. I can’t do this, have mercy, I’ll do anything—“

“I don’t know, I’m having a good time. Why should I?” Another desperate need to release wipes over him, an uncontrollable need that was actively being controlled. 

Despite himself, he teared up. His fingers rose to touch his face, which he realized, was now damp with falling tears, “No, no, no! I can’t- I’ve never- Human bodies— I need to. Please!”

You look at him and smile. 

“I’ve been good,” He reminded you.

With that, you have in. Your other hand moved away to snap your fingers, a gesture that wasn’t need to carry out the action, but to show that he’d earned his reward. 

“Yes! Thank you! Oh gods— Oh-“ He leaned back, finally having the orgasm that was being withheld from him. And god, it felt good.

You felt good, and he hated that. 

[pia-nor481]

I can do it better

Max verstappen x reader smut 18+

3.6k words

She was sat on their-her bedroom floor trying to recollect herself when a loud knock to the front door broke her out of the state she was in. Her eyes were red and cheeks painted with tears. Hoping that the knocking would stop she continued to stare at herself in the full length mirror opposite her hunched over body. Evidently, it didn't stop, she practically shouted the person behind the door to wait a minute. In the mean time, she stumbled up, pulling a shirt over her body and rushing to the bathroom, in hope of cold water freshening her face up; Although it was hard to look presentable at this given time. She could barely stay up her two feet while walking towards the front door. She didn't know where her things were, phone definitely blowing up with her friends asking how her night went, even if they got a hold of her, she wouldn't answer, they'd had enough of her complaints of her love life.

Once she reached the door handle, she opened it a crack, trying to avoid her body being seen. "Sorry to just turn up but my flight leaves tomorrow and you weren't answering, and need some of my stuff before I go." Max was a pretty observant person, he had to be; so nothing slipped past him. "You open the door like this for all the men who knock?" He joked lightly, knowing she often took what he said in jest. He looked back up to her face when there was no further comment. "No, what's up? I can tell something is wrong." He said letting himself into her flat, placing his keys and phone on the counter next to hers, he saw the ample amount of WhatsApp notifications. "Come on, you can tell me what happened." It was so obvious that max still cared for her. Their relationship was always messy. They fought constantly, it started as little things; the floors not being cleaned properly or a few things left in awkward or annoying places. Both of their friends said it was good that they were fighting about things like that, claiming it was healthy to have small bits of conflict that could be quickly resolved. But it soon became a big problem when carer got involved, he was always traveling whether it be for the actual race, England to help with development of the car, or visiting his home to see his parents or even Monaco to be with his friends, but her job required her to be in one place. They tried hard to make it work, she book flights to come and see some of his races or he would stay until Wednesday night of the race week just to spend time with her, but it just wasn't enough.

There had been a few times were Max had heard her on the phone with her friends trying to convince her to break up with him, but every time she would shut them own. "He's toxic, leave him before it gets worse. There can't be anything that makes it worth the stress and disappointment." She would shake her head before remembering that they couldn't see her that's one thing Max really enjoyed, her tendency to show rather than speak. "If he's toxic, I'll wear a hazmat. You don't get it, I love him." Hearing her say things like that always made him smile. He loved her just as much, if not more. Every time he'd come back he would spend all his time awake comforting her, making her feel secure. She wasn't overly talkative when being asked questions, preferring to just shake her head or even pretend she didn't hear it; but not with max. He tried to make sure she would communicate with him, even when they fought, he'd let her scream and shout at him, he wanted to hear everything she had to say, so he knew how she felt, so he could help, He didn't get the luxury of expression when he was younger and that caused many problems. He learnt from this, he learned how to be better, he learned how to love. Max loved, no, loves her so much; it was hard for him to put it into words sometimes, she knew this, and was okay with him showing his love physically. That may have been a part of the problem, they were never close enough for him to show her how much he loved her. Although he is not the only one to blame, she was stubborn, overly so. She hated being wrong and so did he. So Max tried his hardest to not condescend her when she was wrong, but that wasn't often.

"Come on." He had to bite back the pet names he gave her in the years they spent together. "You can tell me what happened." She also hated voicing her concerns with him. She never worried about cheating, Max would never. It was like she felt neglected, but she couldn't say that, it was selfish, she was the one who said they could make the distance work. As max looked around the room he noticed how empty it was. With all of his things gone it didn't feel like home to her anymore. His house in Monaco didn't feel like home either, not without her. She looked up from her feet to meet his eyes. "It's embarrassing." His shoulders dropped, she was stupid sometimes, she didn't realised how silly that sounded to him. "And I've known you for how long?" He paused walking back towards her, resisting the urge to hold her close, to pull her into his chest and cradle her head. "At least it wasn't someone else's fault." he said slightly relieved, her eyes were still a cause for concern, even now he was prepared to fix any problem she had. The silence was loud, his anger pooled at his fists. "Right?" His eyes scanned over her whole body, making sure she wasn't hurt. "Its stupid, and I'm fine by the way. Can't you just grab your stuff and go?" she asked, almost pleading for him to leave. He was not going to leave her alone, not when she was like this.

Max went against his better judgement and hugged her, she needed it, no matter how many times she wanted to be left completely alone. "Tell me. You always feel better when you say what you're thinking, not just shouting at the mirror." She was almost reduced to tears, not only because of his words, but because she was so embarrassed. "Promise you wont laugh." She whispered through teary eyes. "Promise." He pulled his chest away, so he could look her in the eyes as she spoke. He wanted her to feel listened to, cared for. "So my friends set me up with his guy called Matthew, right." Any remaining anger turned into jealousy. He was fuming that his girl was going on a date with some guy. He pushed his feelings aside briefly, wanting to hear the rest of her story. "Well, we went out to this pretty nice place and it was going well, at least I thought so. Anyway, we came back here and he started kiss me, and you feel me up and stuff." She really didn't want to give her ex-boyfriend the details of her hook up. She paused still embarrassed. "Was he blonde and foreign as well?" Her face became warm as he let out a chuckle, this actually comforted him a bit, to see her go out with guys that reminded her of him. "Glad to see you have a type." She gave him a pointed look as an initial response. "Sorry, go on." Shifting her feet to avoid the shame. Max gave her sweet look, enticing her to speak. "When we, um, went to bed it was, uh, fine to start with but you know, he couldn't make me cum, it didn't seem like he was even trying." Her voice was shaky, her nerves were sky high, but she continued because, for once, Max was right. "So I may or may not have sent him out of the flat." She says with as sigh, looking up at her and grasping his arm for a bit of support ,not physical, but emotional, he was comforting to touch. "I am so glad I was your boyfriend and knew how to actually please you or I don't think we would have lasted as long as we did." He spoke with a crooked smile, ready of a light slap to his chest. "It's not funny Max." defeated, her shoulders slumped slightly as she tried to pull out of his tight grasp. "It is a little bit, oh no, please don't give me that look. I'm sorry I swear."

"So let me get this straight, you wanted to hook up with this guy, Matthew, and he was being a selfish prick, and now you are all desperate and pent up. That I can defiantly work with." Confusion covered her face as Max picked her up by her waist and began walking them towards the bedroom. She hooked her legs around his hips during his venture. She would often scold him for doing things without warning or saying things that he shouldn't. She began to kiss his neck, wanting his attention back on her. She knew it wasn't a good idea, but she would worry about the consequences later. One of his hands slid down her back, giving her ass a nice squeeze, he knew she liked it, not that she'd say so, he had to figure that out for himself.

Once his knees touched the edge of the bed, he placed her on it, immediately pushing her shirt up, "No underwear as well, you really do treat the guys at your door well." He let out with a smirk, before pushing her thighs apart further so he could slot between them. The ghost of his breath had her shuddering, she moaned when his lips finally touched her cunt, tongue licking a long stripe over her slit. Max looked up, not even being able to see her face as her head was thrown back at the slightest amount of pleasure. She really needed to feel him. He began to suck on her clit lightly, not wanting to rush into it and run the risk of ruining her orgasm, it hurt him to make her wait any longer, knowing she had spent so much time dissatisfied. Max shook his head side to side sending waves of bliss through her whole body.

Max got good at eating pussy from practicing on her. There were times where he spent more time between her legs than not. Her moans got louder as max put more pressure on her clit, heightening the sensation. "Could he not do this to you? No? That's what I thought." He breathed against her cunt, making her hips shift towards him. Max pulled her knees over his shoulders as he went back in, the noises that filled the room were quickly becoming pornographic. He could feel her twitching and clenching as he ate her out, Max moaned at the feeling, knowing it would tip her over the edge. "Yes, Max. Please, it feels so good." She barely got out, lungs burning. As she began gasping for air, Max could feel her ankles cross behind his back, squishing his head between her thighs. She came hard, harder than she'd done since the last time they were together. No matter who she slept with, no matter how many times she made herself cum it was never the same. "Did that feel good? Was that better than Matthew? Yeah, I know it is."

She pushed Max back slightly so she could slip off the bed and on to her knees. She undid his belt as quick as her shaky hands would allow her.  She squeezed him lightly and ran her hand over his cock a few times before actually pulling it out, she licked a long stripe along the underside, right along the thick vein of his length. Max let out a breathy groan as she took his entire cock in her mouth, reaching down her throat. His hands quickly found her hair and made pace in tangling them. He guided her up and down his cock watching from above with a pleased look on his face. She pulled off with a loud pop, then she tongued the space between the head and shaft, he let out a guttural moan at the feeling, urging  her to take him back in her mouth, it felt phenomenal. Once she hollowed her cheeks again it all became too much for max, she made him cum so hard he started to feel almost lightheaded, seeing stars, hunching over at the feeling. "Fuck, you feel so go baby. Always making me feel so good." He praised, not one lie leaving his lips, although he got to cum every time he had sex, it didn't feel as euphoric as it did with her. 

"Get up here." he said, pulling her up to her tip toes for a kiss. He slipped his tongue practically down her throat, tasting himself in her mouth. Max never understood how other guys could possibly complain about their girlfriend wanting a kiss after blowing him. If she had no problem kissing him after eating her out, what was the difference? The mix was divine, it sent blood rushing to his cock almost immediately as their lips touched. He let his hands run wild over her body, missing the warm of her skin against his. He missed being able to touch every divot of her body. He missed the control he had over her, and the trust she had in him. He was almost as pent up as she was. Max made a point of picking her up again, just to throw her back down on the bed. He noticed the framed painting was put back up above the bed. When they were together, it was almost exclusively on the floor as they got lazy hunting for it behind the headboard, He was disappointed that it was placed back to its home. Max caged her head between her arms as he kissed his way down her abdomen before he gave her cunt one final kiss. He slid his cock over her clit just to tease, he got the same reaction buy only pushing the head in and out a few times before slowly slipping his whole cock in inch by inch. She was swimming in pleasure with max slowly marking her, her neck covered in bites, a few bleeding slightly, her chest was covered in red marks, he needed to mark her as his again, no one was allowed to touch what was his. Not anymore. "Fuck." Max strained, sounding breathless and choked as he continued to pound into her, just how she always liked. He was too hot not to moan over, so she did, and he indulged her, usually he'd have to cover her mouth with his hand or push her face into the pillows to avoid noise complaints, but tonight he'd let her do anything, all he wanted was her back in his arms. He continued to abuse her walls while she gripped the bedsheets tightly, her knuckles becoming white with the new found strength. Her eyes rolled to the back of her head while the remainder of her make up began to smudge and run. Max was fucking her so well her face was painted with tears of joy, and it was just so hot. Max became impossibly harder seeing her fucked out face. He stared to fuck her deeper, hitting that spot that made her go blind with pleasure. "Oh yes Max, always make me feel so good." Her inability to articulate proper sentences was a tell tale sign she was close. Max learned how to read her like a book and it was so beneficial in times like this. 

He quickened his pace, feeling quite close himself. He could she some of this hook up guy's stuff still in her room and it just fuelled the fire. "Matthew didn't make you feel nearly this good did he, sweetheart. You can be honest because I already know." He was interrupted by a thud against the floor. "That's it, good fucking girl for me." he praised her, knowing she would melt from his words, his voice was something she admitted masturbating to when he was gone. She claimed it was mostly because of his accent, but also the tone and the pitch, it just got her so hot and bothered. "Think you can hold on just a little longer?" He asked, feeling her clench around his cock, it made it hard for him to resist. "Only for you, Max." she moaned aware it would edge him on further, fucking her felt exclusive, she was a rare and only he could have her. Perhaps he was a bit possessive, but that didn't matter now that he was with her. One of his hands slid up to her throat, pressing lightly on the sides to only slow the blood flow to her head; his other made way to her clit, rubbing fast circles with just enough pressure to really make it feel good. "Please, just.. just like tha..that." She managed to slur out before her words were cut off by a whine. Her orgasm hit so hard that her head was pushing deep in the mattress and her legs began to spasm and shake. Max only now allowed him self to cum, while she was coming down. He pulled out, shooting plenty of long, thick ropes of cum all over her torso, mainly her perfect tits that her just couldn't resist. They both sighed quietly with small laugh. 

Max gave her a chaste kiss before walking leisurely to the bathroom and picking up a towel to clean her up a bit. On his way back he turned the AC on, anticipating that she would ask him to stay; if he was he want to be touching her the entire time, in order to keep her close he needed the room cold. He brushed the towel over she skin as gently as possible, although it still pulled a moan from her. "I know, but I have to, Darling." He threw the towel to the corner of the room, knowing she'd complain about it later. "Were are my clothes?" He asked quietly, looking back at her on the bed with a grin plastered to her face. "Where you left them before moving out." still in the wardrobe would have been an easier answer but she wanted him to know she didn't want him gone. She anticipated him coming back and wanting to stay, as usual she was right. He put his classic black t-shirt on before climbing in bed with her. "I'm not putting that frame back up." was the first thing she said after coming out of her orgasmic haze. He pulled her practically on top of his body and held her close, as if someone was going to take her from him. "I know." was all he said, trying to think of the right words to convey his feelings. "I never stopped loving you." Was all he could say so he coupled it with a tight squeeze. "I know." It was her turn to give a dry reply and kiss his neck sweetly. "This is great pillow talk." Max laughed out quietly and he could feel her smile against his chest. "I'm so sorry, I should have tried harder. I shouldn't have blamed you as much as I did, I'm just as responsible. And I most definitely should not have told you to leave and never come back. I regretted it immediately, you know. As soon as I heard the door shut I lost it. I don't deserve you Max, but I need you so much." His heart ached hearing her confession, feeling her tears wet his shirt slightly. "I shouldn't have walked out. I know what you're like when you get angry. As soon I closed that door I couldn't bring myself to leave. I slept outside that door, your neighbour asked what happened and I started crying to her. I kept in touch with your friends, or at least I tried to. I needed to make sure you were okay, but it doesn't seem like they like me much. So don't say you don't deserve me, you do. We will make it to the end, I promise you. I wont lose you again. I love you too much for that." She wiped her now joyful tears as she kissed his lips again. 

There was a loud repeated knock on her door, they tried to ignore it, assuming it was their neighbours complaining about the noise, they normally gave up after a few knocks. But this one persisted. "You stay here and keep warm alright, I'll se who it is." Max got out of the bed a recovered her body in blankets while walking with unnecessary pace towards the door. He swung it open aggressively. "Look I'm sorry about that but can I just get the rest of my clothes and leave, there's no need to-" The guy, who max assumed to me Matthew, stopped upon seeing Max. "Sorry man, but that's not happening. Not while I'm here. I don't think you even deserve it, especially if you can't make such a desperate woman come. Only took me three minutes . So fuck off now will you." Max said before slamming the door, feeling relieved as he reached her again. "I love you so much Max."

[kissyghosty]

i understand halloween was 5 days ago but someone asked for some halloween fluff so i must provide

insp by a prompt on the server!

[ao3 link]

Simon has to repeatedly tell Soap no, he can’t use Ghost’s good knives for something like this. While they’d be in familiar territory to their original use, this is…different. Something that doesn’t require such deadly efficiency and sharp edges.

Still, Soap sets into the hapless target with a gusto that would make the old Ghost proud, if not somewhat terrified. “Have at ‘em, love.” He grunts, turning away as Johnny sets out to complete his task. Something about a “masterpiece” is mumbled by Soap, but Ghost is already plopping down on the worn-in couch with a glass

He looks around as the tell-tale sounds of knives plunging in and ripping out chunks takes over the apartment. A bookshelf full of plants. A pile of haphazardly-stacked books. Grow lights. Halloween decor that is totally meant for the holiday being near and not because Ghost and Soap like the looks of it year-round, meaning it’s left out. Miscellaneous sizes and shapes of terrariums dot any spare space left, which Johnny insisted on having far too many of because “at least you don’t need to remember to water them!”

Miss Catty is curled up on one of the shelves next to a grow light. Her tail flicks at random intervals, though her eyes stay closed. Simon is sure that if he were to check, she’d be purring fiercely. The grow lights let off a comfortable amount of warmth and their cat eagerly took advantage of it. Simon takes a moment to mull over his actions before quietly clicking his tongue.

The (rather huge) black Maine Coon’s yellow eyes open as if inside a void. Over the sounds of Johnny’s work, Ghost can hear her faintly trill as she stretches luxuriously before hopping down to wander over to the couch with him. She makes herself at home in his lap, taking up nearly all the space on his thighs. He can’t quite find it in himself to be bothered as his strokes down her back rhythmically and repeatedly, an action that’s become incredibly grounding and calming to him.

“Ah, shit.” Something clatters to the floor in the kitchen, garnering both Simon’s and Miss Catty’s attention.

“You’re carving a gourd, Johnny, not digging information out of someone. Take it easy.” Simon’s voice is low and rumbly and filled with mirth.

Johnny either doesn’t notice Ghost’s presence or doesn’t acknowledge it. He sticks the blade of the knife back into the orange flesh of the pumpkin in front of him. Previously-carved chunks sit on the table next to him, accompanied by the rather-disgusting innards in a bowl. Ghost pulls a chair out to sit down across from Johnny and watch him work.

“You wouldn’t understand,” Soap teases. “You don’t see it the way an artist like myself does.” He sits back momentarily as Miss Catty jumps up to investigate his work. She sniffs the gourd curiously before sneezing and deciding it’s not worth her time. “You li’l shit! This is inspired by you!” Johnny taps the flat side of the knife against the carved pumpkin in exasperation.

“Spin it around so we can have a look, yeah?” Simon drawls. Johnny does so eagerly, wiping off any remaining debris.

It’s…certainly something. He can tell Soap went for some sort of cat face, but the lines are uneven and jagged. One eye is noticeably bigger than the other. One of the ears is completely hollowed out compared to the other, as if he had changed his strategy midway through working. 

“Looks good,” Ghost tries and fails to hide a smirk behind his glass. 

Soap looks like he’s won a prize. “Did it m’self.”

Ghost starts separating seeds from the pumpkin guts, putting them aside. When Johnny asks about his actions, Ghost explains. “Jasper knows how to cook these and make them real good. I’m gonna save some to give to them. Could probably save some chunks for their critters too. They’d appreciate it.”

“Jasper’s critters are probably dead tired of pumpkin at this point. Still, I’ll check.”

“You even have a light to put inside it?”

A moment of pause. “No.”

“There might be old tea candles somewhere in here,” Simon murmurs as he stands to ruffle through the junk drawer in the kitchen. Johnny props his head up on an open palm, blatantly ogling the other appreciatively. 

Their cat sticks her head inside the hollowed-out work, yellow eyes wide and curious. After a moment, it’s not just her head inside the pumpkin. She manages to squeeze her front legs and shoulders inside as well before wisely deciding that it wouldn’t be that smart of an idea to get stuck inside it, retreating just as gracefully.

Ghost comes back a few moments later with a tea candle in his fingers. He slides it across the table to Johnny with a lighter following its tracks right after. The candle is lit, producing a small, wobbly flame that looks like it’s doing its best to stay lit. Gingerly, it’s placed inside the pumpkin and the top is plunked back on before Soap darts over to turn the apartment’s lights off to appraise his work.

“Best work yet,” he grins at Ghost after thoroughly looking it over.

[mugloversonly]

worth waiting

takes place in "He's not a runner, he's a rockstar" AU you can read the first part here Written for @steddieholidaydrabbles prompts: ORNAMENT, TREE, LIGHTS WC: 637 Rating: G CW: NA summary: Eddie is getting ready to go on tour while Steve has his last Christmas in Hawkins. AO3

Steve hummed as he decorated the little glass orb. Eddie told him that he and Wayne make a new ornament every year but that they agreed Steve could make it this time, to celebrate their first Christmas together. Steve added his final few dashes of glitter before he looked over at his boyfriend...only to find him tangled in the tree lights.

“You good there?” He asked with a chuckle. Eddie glared at him before joining in.

“Usually Wayne does this part. But, I thought I could get it done before he gets home.” Steve smiled. Wayne still lived in Hawkins, but he was visiting a lady friend in Chicago this weekend.

“Let me get you out.” The two spent the next hour untangling Eddie and attempting to untangle the lights, only for them to still be in a twisted bundle when Wayne entered.

“Boys.” He nodded his head as he shook of his boots. He glanced at the pile of lights on the floor. “Eddie…” he said threateningly.

“I didn’t break any this time! I think…” Eddie trailed off, properly shame faced.

“He does this every year.” Wayne informed Steve. He took a seat in his recliner and held his hand out. Eddie dutifully put the string into Wayne’s hands and within a few minutes they were completely untangled and flat.

“Thanks.” Eddie said sheepishly before he started to wind them around the tree.

“I think he does it because he wants to see me give up.” Wayne stage whispered to Steve, who snorted.

“Will you?” Steve asked.

“Eddie’s been a challenge all his life. I aint givin’ up on him yet.” Wayne said fondly. He sobered before he looked at Steve, concern written all over his face. “You gonna be okay when he goes on tour?”

Eddie just told him about it today. The band toured over December every year, it was a tradition that he wasn’t going to break, but he always made it home for Christmas. Wayne said one time he bought a horse and rode it through the snow. He wouldn’t put it past Eddie to be honest.

“Yeah, I mean. I don’t love it. But we’ve been apart for longer than a month right? It can’t be so bad.” Steve said though the look in Wayne’s eyes told him he didn’t fool anyone. In truth, Eddie stayed in Hawkins after that benefit concert for a while. The whole band did, helping out their families for a while. But everyone was back in California for the past two months. Except Eddie, who stayed, for Steve.

Wayne was ready to move to LA with him, but Steve needed to wait a few more months. He lost his only guy friend in Tommy and though he wanted throw his whole life into Eddie’s, it wasn’t a good idea. Robin encouraged him to wait, let himself date Eddie without relying on him in any way, to make sure the relationship was real, and Eddie agreed.

So, now, he was going to get his degree in business to help Robin run her foreign language book store. He had all the necessary paperwork, including an acceptance letter, to get into UCLA. He was ready.

But, this tour would be the final test. They haven’t been apart for more than a few days since they started dating, and he could barely handle that. If he couldn’t get through this month, how was he going to survive a year long tour?

“Stevie! Put your ornament on!” Eddie shouted, ripping Steve out of his mood. He stood and placed his glass bulb with “Stevie’s first Christmas” and the year written on it, onto a middle branch. “Nice!” Eddie said as he kissed him.

Steve sighed. He’d miss him like a limb, but he knew what they had was worth waiting for.

tags:

@katyawriteswhump

buy me a coffee

[klausysworld]

Hi! I love your fics and I’ve been binging them all day!

I was wondering if you would be willing to make a part 2 to ‘His Little Secret’? I would love a smutty sequel where she expects immediate sex at his house but he planned a little date for them in his living room since they can’t be in public yet while he’s still her teacher and she’s in love with it cause it’s just so sweet and she didn’t expect it at all cause a part of her still worried that all he wanted was to fuck her. Klaus eases her concerns and is really understanding…and then after dinner he absolutely destroys her?

His little secret part 2

PT1

Professor Mikaelson and I- sorry, Klaus and I, hadn’t had much time to…be together since that evening in his office after school had ended.

It was just little moments like staying a couple extra minutes at the end of the lesson to ‘grab my things’ when in reality i was pressed against the wall with his hands in my hair and tongue down my throat.

Or when I needed help with the homework and his lips would be on my neck while he explained the assignment and helped me take notes.

So when I found a note in between the pages of my book with his address and a request for me to join him on Saturday night, well I was a little excited.

But as the days grew nearer, my mind spun. What if he just wanted to finally fuck me? It was probably just a game for him, to chase his student, make her fall for him, fuck her and then move on. Or worse, make me his fuck toy while I fall further for him until I graduate and he finds a new student.

And yet, despite my worries, I still turned up to his house. I made sure I was clean, shaved and…desirably dressed. If he just wanted sex then I could do that, he’s probably got all the skills anyway so at least it would be worth the emotional turmoil.

I knocked on his door with a quick glance of my surroundings, I had my jacket zipped up over my skimpy dress just incase anyone saw me and didn’t think I was my teachers hooker.

His house was fucking huge, what kind of salary was he on??

And when he opened the door it was a little odd seeing him in regular clothes. Jeans and a henley, he didn’t look like a professor right now.

He smiled and his arm circled my waist, pulling me inside and shutting the door and kissing my cheek.

“Im so glad you came sweetheart” he murmured.

I swallowed thickly and nodded “yeah…you have a really nice home” I told him quietly, it was a little weird knowing I was in his house, going to be fucked by my teacher.

“Are you alright my love?” He questioned, his hand cupping the side of my face

“Mhm, yeah. So uh, where do you want to do it?” I asked nonchalantly, best to get straight to it, no need to sugarcoat it or pretend its not the real reason I’m here.

His brow arched and he frowned “do what…oh-“ his eyes widened as I undid my jacket revealing my lack of clothing. I looked to him with a slightly expecting face

“What? You looked shocked? Would you have preferred it in pink? You seemed more of a dark blue person” I muttered looking down and the second skin, rather worried knowing i was wearing matching panties.

“N..no you look lovely…I just…I wasn’t prepared for you to be wearing…what” his tongue clicked and he took my hand “you look beautiful” he assured being leading me past the first room and through the next door, is his bedroom downstairs?

Though I was quite surprised when he opened the door to reveal candles lighting up the room, blankets and pillows layered in the centre of the room and a massive flat screen hung up on the wall. Oh my god was he going to film it or something?

I blinked a few times and looked to him nervously “I um…I don’t think I want to be filmed the first time” I told him awkwardly and to my own embarrassment as his eyes significantly widened and he shook his head

“No! No no, that is not what this is!” He nearly yelled “it’s just dinner! Food, a date” he confirmed.

“Oh” I breathed, my brows furrowing “you know it’s unnecessary though right? You don’t need to ‘woo’ me, I know what I’m here for”

“What in earth do you think you’re here for!?” He looked almost upset?

“Sex….was that not…oh dear” I muttered feeling much more embarrassed realising I looked like an utter slut. “God I’m so stupid, I’m sorry, I’ll get my coat” I quickly made my way to the front door with my hand shielding my face from his view.

“Love!” I could hear his footsteps gaining pace as he neared me, his hand landing on my shoulder and turning me too him before I had the chance to grab my jacket. “Love, it’s alright” his voice was soft as his hand moved under my chin to try sway me into looking up at him. “I can understand why you would assume that, I haven’t been able to show you that this id more than a couple kisses on my desk, but that’s why you’re here. So that I can give you more, not sexually-not if you don’t want that, more emotionally” he explained

I glanced up to him, my face red and haw clenched, my mind telling me to get out to save myself from further humiliation.

“I should go home” I whispered and he frowned

“Please love, just an hour or so, I’ve made you dinner, surely you’re at least a little hungry?” He asked, his hand on my arm now

“Klaus I look like a hooker” I stated with a sigh

“Ill get you one of my tops if you’d like, my jeans may be a tad big on you, adjustable sweatpants perhaps?” He offered, both hands rubbing up and down my arms gently

“Im not even wearing a bra” I laughed slightly, my hand holding my forehead “god, I’m so sorry”

He smiled and shook his head “I understand, It’s quite alright. Now personally I don’t own bras but I promise not to look, hm?” He questioned and I smiled a little

“Okay” I whispered and he nodded

“I’ll grab you something of mine” he whispered “will you wait in the living room? The one I showed you…for our date”

I smiled and went back into the room he had previously shown to me and sat down on the edge of one of his luxurious leather sofas, looking down at the little display of blankets on the floor. I sighed, feeling stupid as I pulls my dress up over my breasts a little more.

I waited a few more minutes for him to return with some clothes folded in his arms. He smiled came over, pulling a navy henley over my head and I brought my arms into the sleeves. He held a hand out to me, pulling me up to stand before him before kneeling down and bunching the joggers up to slip them up my legs and over the henley of my body. I went to speak but I felt his hands under the henley making my words halt as he had managed to pull my excuse of a dress off of my body and over my head from under my clothes. I blinked at him aimlessly as he folded up the material and set it aside. His arm moved around my waist and he smiled

“May we have our date now, my sweetheart?” He asked while leading me over to the comfy setting on the ground. He gently pulled me down with him and tucked a few strands of hair behind my ear. “Food will be ready soon, for now, how about a film?” He offered as he handed me the phone.

“You sure you want me to choose? You know our tastes may be a little different seeing as…well” I stopped myself from saying much else, like him being my teacher, being roughly ten years older and what not. But he only smiled back at me

“How will I learn much from you if you do not teach me?” He asked and I smiled shyly before reluctantly nodding and taking the remote.

“Well uh we could watch…” I trailed off aimlessly, a little glad when his phone alarm went off for the food. He stood up and kissed the top of my head

“Ill grab that, you pick the girliest film you can find hm? It won’t bother me as long as you enjoy it” he murmured softly, before leaving the room briefly. I decided to see how far I could push it and chose Legally Blonde.

When he returned I was more comfy, lead on my stomach, chin resting in my hands as I awaited his return. My eyes flicked to the pasta dishes in his hands and smiled up at him. He was even more attractive from this angle, seeing straight up his body.

His throat cleared as my eyes lingered on his crotch for a beat to long and I looked back to his amused face while he began to lower himself onto his knees and placed my plate in front of me.

“Cooked it yourself?” I questioned, slightly suspicious he had someone else do it

“Who else would make it?” He asked, a hand over his heart in mock offence.

“I dunno a maid? This house is fricken huge! You can’t tell me you clean it yourself?” My brows raised and he chuckled

“I have a little help with cleaning but I assure you, nobody else is here tonight, I cooked this myself for you”

“Oh? And why nobody else here? Expecting something happen?” I mused and he smiled with a shake of his head

“Just didn’t want anyone disturbing our time together, besides…for now you are still a student” he mumbled the last part as though I would miss it and so I ignored it on his behalf.

“Well thank you” I said with a smile and picked up my fork, taking a bite of his meal for me.

“Well I must commend you professor, it seems you do more than teach” I said with a laugh and he smiled looking down at his plate.

“And you have just lovely movie recommendations” he hummed glancing up at the TV

“Hush, you’ll love it” I wave my hand and sit up, shuffling over to him as he draped a blanket over my shoulders.

By the time we had finished our meals and he had fed me the pavlova he made, the film had finished and we were scrolling to pick another. His arm was around me, hand on the side of my thigh as I was curled on my side, my head against his chest.

“Are you tired my love? I can take you home if you like or if you’d rather stay, you have have my bed and I’ll take a guest room” he proposed, his fingers threading through my hair gently.

“Why would I stay in your bed? Wouldn’t I be the guest?” I asked confused

“Mm but my bed is the comfiest, and you should have the best” he muttered as he kissed the top of my head. I smiled and turned onto my back, the back of my head resting against his thigh as I looked up at him. His hand slid up to lay against my stomach and he grinned down at me. “Perhaps you’re comfy here?” He mused and my lips pulled upwards with a meek nod.

We stayed in that position for two thirds of Titanic before we moved on to more…intriguing topics. We had gotten to the scene where Jack and Rose have sex in the car when his hand glided up and down my abdomen

“I don’t imagine you’ve ever done it in a car, love?” He hummed though his curiosity was clear. I blushed and shook my head

“Have you?” I asked quietly and he smirked

“Well…” he trailed with an awkward yet proud chuckle making me roll my eyes playfully

“A man like you must’ve done it everywhere” I laugh and his brows raise

“Is that your way of calling me a man whore?” He hums and I shrug

“A little bit”

“And what of you, where have you done it?” He questions, his expression almost smug. I blush darkly and look away briefly

“Well not many places” I mutter

“A bed I presume?” He asks and I nod. His hand had pushed up the henley, untucking it from the joggers so his hand was against my bare stomach. “Anywhere else love?” He questions, no amusement in his tone, just soft curiosity.

I shrug “janitors closet” i mumble, glancing to him seeing his brows high

“Oh? With who?” He questions, his tone lower than before

“Nope, not doing the who have we slept with” I refused and he let out a chuckle

“Oh come on love, give me a hint love” he nearly whined as his hands teased my under boob.

“Nuh uh, none of your business” I tell him and he laughs again

“It won’t do any harm” he persuades but I’m firm of my decision not to share and he eventually gives in.

“Anywhere else you’ve gotten yourself hot and bothered in with this mysterious boy” he hummed

“Well..” I clicked my tongue, fighting back a smile knowing it would press his buttons “Actually…I’ve gotten to third base with someone in the back of a classroom” I bit my tongue to hold back my grin and he stiffened

“Not…not in my classroom” He uttered and I laughed but didn’t respond. “Y/n. Not in my classroom, correct?” Again, I said nothing only giggled fuelling him to lift me up from my comfy position and pulling me to straddle his lap, his hand holding my chin to keep my eyes on his. “Y/n y/l/n you tell me right now that you did not let a boy out his fingers inside you while in my class room.”

My grin shone through in slight pride and amusement seeing his horrified and disturbed expression. I only laughed harder at his face before shaking my head

“It wasn’t in your room but god you look like someone murdered you puppy” I giggled and he breathed out a sigh, his arm pulling me flush against him

“I would have surely killed the boy” he muttered, kissing my temple.

“Don’t worry, he wasn’t nearly as talented as you were with your fingers” I whispered into the crook of his neck, he hummed and said fingers got a gently grip around my neck, pulling me back to see him.

“I remember that day so very well” he murmured, his eyes glossed in a growing lust.

“So do I” I replied with a smile which he returned as he cleared his throat again.

“Back to the topic at hand-“

But he didn’t get to finish his sentence as I pushed my lips to his rather unexpectedly. He made a sound of surprise before welcoming the kiss, his hand sliding up my neck to my jaw as he kissed back with a little more passion.

I pulled away with much struggle, my cheeks pink and my eyes flicking between his eyes and lips. “Sorry, I don’t know why I uh well threw myself at you” I blushed with a light laugh

“I wouldn’t be embarrassed my love, I have that effect” he chuckled before kissing my lips briefly again. “Besides, I certainly enjoy your enthusiasm” He hums before taking my lips with his. The kiss much deeper than the last, much deeper than any of our other kisses. Completely unhurried and meaningful.

His hands slid up and down my sides, his palms just barely grazing the sides of my breasts as his mouth grew hungrier and mind needier. I breathed into his mouth as he parted my lips with his, making way for our tongues to reunite as his hands gave a tender squeeze to each breast. I let out a little moan in response, pulling back to glance down at his hands, my desire building.

I would be lying if I said that I hadn’t been longing for us to finally do it. Since he was rather firm that we should be exclusive, it’s been far too difficult to not be touching myself each night to the thought of him. Of course part of me was worried all he wanted was sex but knowing that he genuinely cared for me, enough to spend hours with me with no more than limited physical touch and purely words of affection, I just wanted to at last have him inside me. I needed to know how brilliant he surely was. My friends had non stop blabbed about how great they imagine him to be, my dreams have already given me enough visuals, now I needed the real deal.

Before I knew it, his top I had been wearing was disregarded and tossed to one of the sofas. His hands were groping at my breasts as I continued to pant into his mouth, my tongue trying desperately to keep up with his.

I pulled away when his hands touched the sweatpants I was wearing and grabbed his hands.

“We aren’t on a time limit are we?” I asked slightly nervous and he shook his head,

“Forgive me” he breathed, his cheeks earning a rosy hue. He kissed me several more times before leaning back on his knees. He pushed me down onto my back nudged my thighs apart before shuffling between them. My legs bent at the knee to wrap around his waist, bringing his a little closer.

He bent down, his eyes on mine as he littered many kissed across my chest. His hands fondling and kneading while his tongue found one of my anticipating nipples. Our eyes remained locked on one another as he sucked it between his lips. I let out a hot breath at the tingling sensation he was creating as well as the sight. His tongue flicked at the hardening bud while one of his hand’s fingers gently pinched the other. His teeth grazed me lightly but enough to have my back arching to push my chest into his mouth with a squeal. His chuckle vibrated through me as he sucked it some more.

“You are divine sweetheart” he uttered, an award winning smirk spread across his face.

I barely managed to let out a noise before his mouth was on the opposite side to last and tugging at the nipple before pulling off it and nuzzling his face between both breasts,shaking his head gently side to side, his tongue giving quick swipes to the swells of them both.

“I could just do this all night” he mumbled and I breathed a laugh

“As much as I would love that, I fear my insides may explode with need” I whisper and he chuckles.

“Is that you way of asking for more, my love?” He hummed, his fingers flicking my erect buds making me let out an ‘mph’ as my teeth clamped down on my lower lip as I nodded in response. “Very well” he whispered.

Soon enough we were both entirely bare, his body pressed against mind, our lips together again in another heated kiss.

I could feel his heavy cock against my upper thigh, occasionally brushing over my folds, coating himself in my arousal and with eat feathery touch, the more desperate i became.

My hands grabbed at his hair, his neck, his shoulders, his back, anywhere I could touch to feel him closer until he had pulled away which a small chuckle.

“Is there something you would like sweetheart?” He mused but I wasn’t exactly in an amused mood. My hands only tugged at him more, a repeated blur of pleas whispered until he shushed me gently and stroked my hair.

“Let’s see how much you can handle” he murmured as he slowly began to push into me. An instant moan filling the air, a smile on my open mouth as my back arched and my head leant back. “That’s it love” he sighed, pushing in further. Another breathless moan leaving me, my cunt gripping him tightly.

No words could be formed as he began to move within me. Both out hips rocking, a groan leaving his throat and a girlish moan pushing past my lips. I could feel his hands roughly gripping my breasts again as his face dropped to my neck, his hot breath hitting against my skin.

My hips bucked upward harshly as his pace picked up. My eyes shut in a state of bliss, just him inside me was enough to make me cum let alone moving as fast as he was with his mouth sucking along my throat.

“oh god” I whispered, harsh breaths leaving my mouth. “Klaus” I whimpered. He kissed along my neck again before I felt his lips press to mine in many short kisses.

“I love you” he mumbled, my eyes cracked open to look at him, a smile forming on my face

“I love you” I told him, my heart fluttering at the look on his face.

My mouth formed an ‘o’ as he now moved even faster. Sharp intakes of breath could be heard aswell as the distinct sound of our skin meeting. A loud moan transferred from my mouth to his as he hit directly against my spot.

“yes klaus, yes!” My voice grew higher, his hips going faster. He hit just right over and over until my thighs were nearly vibrating and my fingers were tugging harshly at the baby hairs at the top of his neck.

“You’re gorgeous” he whispered, only stirring my orgasm on further, edging it closer and closer. “Come on sweetheart, finish for me my lovely.” He murmured.

I let out a sharp cry in response, my nails digging into his back with raw need.

“Show me love, show me” he whispered, lips kissing the spot behind my ear.

“Fuck Klaus fuck” I whined, my jaw clenching, nails holding on so tight he winced as I let go.

“Good god-“ he panted, he let out long breaths as he hurriedly pulled put, cumming across my abdomen and the blankets beneath us.

My eyes fell shut, my legs slipping from his waist and my arms sliding away from his back, tiny amounts of his blood at the ends of my fingernails.

His hands brushed my hair out of my face as my breathing evened out.

“You look beautiful my love” he whispered, “I will forever hold this moment in my heart” he murmured. He peppered my jaw in his kisses making me hum happily.

“Mmm can we watch another movie” I muttered sleepily and he chuckled

“Whatever you like sweetheart” he murmured, his lips meeting mine again for one of the dozens of times that they would continue to meet throughout the night…

(Ughhh sorry for not posting very much Actually like this story though ngl)

[empty-pizza]

thoughts on nona the ninth chapters twenty-four and twenty-five

PALAMEDES FUCKING TOOK THE BODY

HOLY SHIT

HE DID IT

HE COMPLETED THE NERD TO JOCK TRANSITION

we might be able to find gideon's body soon. can't wait to find out that none of this works as we expected.

maybe if ianthe read more novels about plucky youths with the power of logic she would have beaten palamedes in the mental battle

so pyrrha suspected nona was dying. honestly i've really enjoyed the way that nona is just, a kind of being that engages with life differently. aware of her own mortality in a way most humans aren't, yet enjoying every moment she can and always curious about the next moment.

damn we really might be about to find the body. key to a door, last thing left of wake, and possibly nona.

lol the blood wards are so weak they could only even kill one of nona's hands

hey it's her

got that potentially selfcest kiss in

kinda anticlimactic

is what i said until i finished the chapter what the FUCK gideon is here what the FUCK bingus bongus zinkus zonkus idk where this is going now, so maybe Nona really is just Harrow's mind in a weird state, or maybe she's Something Else, who fucking knows

let's read the next one

this is

gideon with more confidence than usual, i think, maybe, i dunno, it's been a while. i guess she kinda wasn't allowed to be outgoing during most of book 1 but idk. it's still a weird level of confidence for the situation. or not. idk.

so john just

brought gideon back

and this entire time she's just been hanging around as the daughter of big g

this makes me kind of mad, because i think how gideon and john would react to each other is super interesting and i wish we got a book that showed us more of that

but she goes by kiriona gaia now

and she's dead

but like, what

this isn't right

this is not right

the real gideon would care way more about finding harrow again

but what if she does, and this situation is just so fucking weird and i'm missing the contxt

what happened to her

she calls nona a fake nonagesimus

i'm gonna be honest, i like nona more than i like gideon and harrow, so if i have to say goodbye or fuck you to either of the OGs, i'm willing to if it means staying on team nona

gideon would not be this mean to someone as innocent as nona!!! don't tell nona to shut up!

what's going on in the river right now

kiriona wants to go to the ninth?

As emotionally frustrating as this is, I think this is probably the most interesting way to answer the mystery of finding Gideon again. That we find her, but she's not who we wanted her to be anymore. And the question of who Nona is can be something more complicated than just, Gideon or Harrow. A simpler reveal would honestly just feel flat.

her motivation being just to kill the boredom could make sense, but like... she just doesn't feel right. Where's the Gideon that cared?

But did she really ever care about anything that wasn't hot girls, fighting, and Harrow?

Is this how she always looked from the outside?

I don't think so (she wouldn't have been so mean to Nona) but they're questions worth asking. And I believe Nona that Kiriona is lying.

Maybe it's not a real Gideon. Or is intentionally corrupted in some way by John. Maybe this is all part of a big plan to sabotage the attempt to get into the tomb. Give them who they think they need, but she'll betray them.

hmm. can't take her blood. could just be a general defensive measure. or could be a way to force BoE to need to take the woman with them personally.

Honestly though, if we were building to a "not the real gideon" twist, if it was purely a fake, then it would actually try to hide it. I think that, like it or not, this is who John made his daughter into. Dick move ngl.

Nona had never seen anyone so sad in her whole short life. It made her nearly afraid to die.

damn

man this was some shit

[lady-dulcinea]

First of all, thank you for answering my question.

Now, discussing the essay itself…

[Spoilers for E V E R Y T H I N G]

To interpret the book as portraying Lucy as “more evil than a blood sucking immortal” is erroneous on so many levels that I feel like even taking my time to correct it is superfluous. But since we’re already here: besides the fact that, as you’ve said, Mina is the actual instigator of gossip between then, the narrative does not treat Lucy with any more unkindness than it does any of the other human characters. When she is in distress for having to reject two men whose affection she appreciates but does not correspond, her feelings are taken seriously and the book itself validates her choice. There is not a single offence directed at her or her actions to be found in the text.

The “unmarried” aspect makes no sense as well. For starters, for the better part of the time we have with Lucy since her introduction, Mina is unmarried as well. Engaged, yes, but the point still stands, for after all, Lucy also gets engaged to Arthur as soon as her second appearance in the story. So from that point on, they both have fiancées. And Lucy is clearly very excited about it. She loves Arthur. To claim that the book punishes Lucy for being unmarried when 1) She’s nineteen, so has only recently reached marriageable age in the first place; 2) She explicitly wants to be married and feels absolutely no reservations about it. She rejected two marriage proposals because she simply didn’t love Quincey and Jack the way she did Arthur, and then accepted his proposal with joy; and 3) The one and only reason she didn’t get married in the first place is because Dracula’s predation quite literally sucked the life out of her before she could!

This argument falls flat because it interprets vampirism as some form of karma, the will of the universe coming to punish those characters for their terrible actions. Except that it is not that, and we learn so from the very beginning. Jonathan pushed through his suspicions and all the warnings from the locals because the alternative was too far fetched to be worth turning around for. He suffered in Dracula’s hands, obviously, but he manages to escape, and not only does he survive, but his trauma is treated with the seriousness it deserves.

Lucy, similarly, did nothing wrong. In fact, one could argue that what really sealed her fate is that she did everything right. Once she got sick, the other characters took it upon themselves to help her, and thought their intentions were noble, it led to Lucy being more of an expectation than anything else. She did what the doctors told her to do, stayed put, lied to her best friend as to not worry her, and kept being just as in love with Arthur. Kept putting on a brave face for everyone while unknowingly being drained every night by a monster. She did everything the so called “good girl” is expected to do. And it changed nothing. Her fate was sealed the moment Dracula set his sights on her, not because she did anything to deserve it, nor for some conspiracy of destiny that dictates the young maiden must pay for the crime of beauty and innocence, but because he wants it and so he will do it. That’s what seems to be so difficult for essayists, directors and writers to understand about vampirism. It could happen to anyone, be they a good or bad person. Lucy is a good person, and vampirism is a sickness that came and ruined her life.

Now, finally, the axis of it all: if the book seems to suggest, as the essayist says, that Lucy is more evil than a blood sucking immortal, then why does Lucy get to have a dignified death, surrounded by friends, instead of facing an “off screen” demise at the hands of the creature? Why do the other characters continue mentioning her with fondness and grief, those people who loved her and decided to band together in the first place to avenge her? And, if we’re going for comparisons, why does Dracula receive the absolute opposite treatment? The characters and the narrative actively despise him, and his death is described with little more than profound relief.

To say that Lucy is portrayed as more evil than Dracula is ludicrous. It has no basis in the text itself. And the only possible basis I can think for such a take even existing is a mix between bad faith criticism in general, pop culture’s misunderstanding of the characters being so big it suffocates the original text, and misogyny doing what it always does and twisting everything it can to make a woman seem somehow deserving of being hated.

@lady-dulcinea to answer your question about essays saying that the book punishes Lucy for being a gossip:

Meanwhile, the one who is introduced having already been informed by another girl about someone's love life and asking Lucy for the latest tea is not Lucy. It's Mina.

Let her be the gossip girl of the two.

They typically also say she's being punished for taking a while to "settle on" someone. Despite the fact that Lucy is introduced saying "I love him I love him I love him" about Arthur Holmwood:

[allkordelia]

Do You Love Me

You were on the bed in daemon's chamber waiting for him when you felt a flutter in your belly, your hand moved over rubbing it feeling a bit out of it that this was happening. 

You laid flat on the bed looking up at the ceiling, when daemon wanted you to come with him to king's landing from driftmark you thought it be an fun adventure being in a new place, staying at the red keep, getting treated like royalty, and having daemon's undivided attention.

It was one of those dreams you always wish will happen when you were a child, but in yours you never imagine the rogue prince take a liking to you of all people. You sigh thinking about how you got to this state of living with the targaryen prince, it wasn't a good memory to go back on but it did seal your fate with your lover in the end that made it worth it.

~

You were on the couch in dragonstone when your mind went to the past couple of months of you being with daemon, you hummed to yourself at the fun you had between the sheets and out of them you never wanted it to end. But, that feeling was shortly lived after weeks of staying in the red keep. He started confining you to his chambers while he was away doing his "duties", and when he finally got bored of his duties he took you away to dragonstone where he stayed with you for a month or two before leaving you there to your own devices.

He didn't even tell you that he was leaving until you found out when you saw him riding on caraxes from the balcony of his chambers, and when he finally came back he brought another woman with him with tan skin and dark hair. You remember waiting for him to come back to his chambers so you could demand to go back home for leaving you here all alone, it was nearing midnight when he walked through the door the first thing you grabbed was a book you brought from his huge library.

Before you got the chance to throw it he had you on the bed naked and fucked out of your mind to point that you forgot what he did to make you angry, after that night he didn't come back not until the next day and then he didn't come back the following day but he did the day after that so it took the seventeenth night since he got back for you to realized that he was jumping between you and the other woman. It was, mysaria, the name you come to found out as the other woman night today when you were waiting in front of the fireplace for your tea.

You twist and untwist the white curly streak that you got from your father around your finger as you stared into the fire, the knock on the door made you shoot up from your seat and hurry to crack open the door.

"Did anyone see you?"  The older maester shook his head.

"Good." You opened the door wider seeing the white teacup on a small plate in his hand.

"You should give it a couple of minutes or more to cool down before drinking, m'lady." You nodded taking it from his hand looking down at the light amber liquid.

"Mind you, m'lady. Beware that this tea has very dangerous effects." You looked at the older gentleman frowning a bit.

"I'll take that in consideration, thank you have good night maester." The old man bowed walking away before you closed the door you looked up snd down the hall to make sure their weren't anyone spying on you.

You walked back over to the couch you blew on the steaming cup, the smell of honey and mint engulf your senses before setting it down on the table, you moved your hair from your face and behind your ear before grabbing the book next to you to past the time as you wait for the tea to cool down. As you were reading you heard the door to your chamber's open making you stand up and turn to see daemon, you moved to the side blocking the tea from his vision.

"Daemon." You said flatly.

"Issa jorrāelagon."  He smiled moving his eyes all over you.

"Shouldn't you be with your other mistress night." He came to stand in front of you as his hands moved gently up and down your arms.

"I took her back to king's landing."

"Really? Does this mean you taking me back to diftmark." You asked trying not to sound too hopeful, daemon wasn't looking at you as he caress your collarbone.

"You want to leave me?"

"Of course not, but rather than leaving me here all alone you can take me back home...and come get me again once your finish with your duties." He laughed in your face as you said the most peculiar thing.

"So, you can start opening your legs for the sailors and knights...?" He said finally looking at her.

"I don't think so." He pecked you lips before trailing his kisses down your neck.

"I'm just saying–" he cut you off muttering into your neck.

"That's your problem. Your talking when you should be getting on your knees and pleasuring your prince." He hands were grabbing your backside as he leaves love bites on your neck, he tries to back you to the couch but you stumbled knocking against the table making the tea and small plate make a clanking sound.

"A bit late for tea, isn't it." He asked after catching you before you fell, you looked to see he was looking down at it with curiosity.

"Just something to help me sleep...you know how I am when I'm in a new place," you said you could tell he wanted to inspect the light amber liquid making you slide you hands from his arms to his abdomen to his get to his belt making you unbuckling them to draw his attention back to you.

" You should undress you smell."  He turned his head back to you before letting out a pleased hum when your hand rubbed his cock through his pants.

"I thought you like my scent." He says taking off his leather jerkin tossing it to the side, only in his white tunic showing off his chest before he leaned his head against her own.

"Oh, I do...just not when it's mixed with another woman perfume." You backed up away from him before flopping on the couch.

"Is that a hint of jealousy, my love?" He asked staring down at you making you snort.

"please..." you muttered leaning your head back on the rolled arm of the couch, "...I have nothing to feel for such things as envy over who you fuck."

"So, you wouldn't care if i bring another woman back here?" You turned your head looking at him.

"No, it's your castle...you are the prince and future heir. I am your whore you do not belong to me so you can do as you wish. My only purpose here is to please and make you happy." You shrugged slightly  as you watch him walk closer to you before kneeling down by your side.

"So, if I tell you stay here with me forever, will you?" He asked his fingertips grazed your expose legs and thighs.

"Yes." You answered feeling a bit of ill in the pit of your stomach, in the amount of time of being with daemon. His slowly started to becomeproprietorial over you to the point that you felt  suffocated and it makes you mad that you couldn't  really do much about it.

You couldn't tell him no because of his temper you know that daemon wouldn't put a hand on you, but there are other ways to hurt a woman without using violence.

"I'm pleased to hear that especially since..." he said softly trailing his kisses from side of your thigh up to your waist, "...I want to see your belly swell with my sons and daughters." He chuckled before peaking the top of your stomach causing you to tense up and sit up making him sit on his knees. You looked at him stunned at his words, he tilt his head to the side with a small grin making you scoff.

"Don't jest about something like that." You exhaled heavily.

"What? You do not wish to have childern, I mean I get it children can be such irritating creatures." His hands running up and down your calf and thigh while looking at you, you glanced at him before looking away into the fireplace.

"I do want childern...I just don't want them–right now." You said looking down at your hand playing with your ring.

"You mean you don't want them from me." You snapped you head him as he wore a serene look.

"I didn't say that–"

"No, but you were thinking it and it's okay." He said rubbing your knee making you bite the inside of your bottom lip as you felt relieved.

"The gods will decide when it's time for us to have childern, and until then we will have to keep trying." He gave you a placid smile before kissing your knee, making you let out a nervous giggle feeling that same dread creep up in your stomach again.

"...yea." you leaned forward grabbing the tea before you were stopped by daemon's hand wrapping around your wrist, a bit of fear shoot through as you looked at daemon as he took the cup of your hand.

He smelled it before he gave you a soft scowl getting up, "Daemon–"  you started.

"Are you pregnant?" You looked at him for a minute.

"I don't know...I been throwing up all day." He look down at you with a narrow eyes before glancing down at him.

"Your lying again." You shook your head opening your mouth, " ...you know why I know your lying, because the maester told me you been visiting him for the past six days straight since I been back." You looked up at him with a wary look as you swallow thickly.

"Daemon–"

"Do you want to drink it?" He asked calmly.

"I-I don't–I–"

"It's a simple question, do you want it?" He said again looking down at you, you hesitated looking st him before glancing at the cup.

"Yeah, I want it." You whispered bracing yourself for his wrath.

"Ok." He held the cup in front of you waiting for you to grab it, you look at him curiously as you looked between him and the cup.

"Take it." He urge straighten his arm a bit towards you, you exhale feeling s bit shaky as you  pulled your hand up to grab it only for it to be thrown at the fireplace. The cup hits the stone causing it to shattered and the liquid to stain the carpet, you looked at daemon as if he lost his mind as he gave you a curious look back.

"What the in seven hells, daemon? Are you mad." You stood up looking at him.

"I could be asking you the same thing, did you really thing I was going to let you kill our unborn son."  He took a step forward only for you take a step back.

"Daemon, please. We can not have this child." You pleaded backing up as he walk towards you.

"We can and we will..."  You stopped s good distance away from him as we stood behind the couch.

"I'm not having this baby."

"...you make it sound like you have a say, I am your prince you do as I say–"

"No!" You snapped.

"I will not raised your bastard, daemon. I will not give him the life that was burden upon me by my own lord father." You hissed, you told him this long ago about your father, you  never mentioned a name but he knew and you told him of your life  in the brothel with your mother and he told me about his own childhood.

"I'll marry you–"

"Please. How long will that..hmmm? Your just going to get bored and leave to found something better and when you do so will I."  He looked stern at you taking a step closer but you stood your ground.

"Your not taking my son and if i have to I will lock you away in the highest tower I can found and have you remain there until our child is born."

"And then what? You gonna parade him around the royal court, they will not accept him as their own when they found out that his mother's a bastard whore."

"You can't be a whore if you only had one customer...which was me." He  nonchalantly.

"Not the point I still worked in a pleasure house–"  you dismissed his comment.

"As a cupbearer."  He rolled his eyes closing the distance between you both as his hands went to your arm.

"I understand your concern but I want to have this child with you, I want to be with you." You shook your head in pain.

"For how long? I can't be stuck in this castle all alone with no help and have my child questioned if his father loves him or not."

"I will never leave your side or our child, I would rather burn than to be absent father," his hand grasped your face before leaning his head against your own, "I'll never abandon you or our baby I promise." You covered his hand with yours before nodding.

~

The door opened making you turn your head to see daemon, he was gone all night with his golden cloaks killing and maiming criminals. He eyes wondered around the room quickly before landing on you he smiled coming over to you, you moved away from to the other side of the bed as he tried to kiss you.

"Uh-uh stop right there." You put up a finger stopping him in his tracks as he went to climb on the bed.

"Your not getting in our bed smelling like a dead rat." He rolled his eyes backing up and moving his side of the bed and kneeling by side you.

"Can I atleast get a little peck?" He asked.

"No." You deadpan, "maybe if you change and take a bath, I considered it." You smiled mockingly.

"I can't have to attend the small council, my brother wishes to see me." He rolled his eyes leaning his head on the bed.

"Yeah, after the screams of your victims echo through the wee hours of the night, I'm not surpised." He hummed before getting up.

"Let's get this over with." He sighed.

"You have fun." He looked down at you with a look.

"No, your coming with I want you there when I announced our marriage to my brother." You gave a strain look a bit nervous, it been five months and daemon kept his word as he stayed by your side through the pregnancy. You be lying if you said that you weren't nervous anything can happen, and you mean anything as sweet as viserys is he is a bit dense and likes to listen to his hand rather than his own.

Nobody knew that you were with child when we arrived daemon made sure you went straight to his chambers unnotice, he wanted to tell his brother face to face rather than have gossip spread through the castle and spoil his plan. You had a cloak on hiding your body as you walked with daemon holding your hand, you walked in the room to found just three members of the council already here.

"Prince Daemon." They all stood up and bowed to him, no one looked your way as they took their seats. You wanted to stand near the window that overlooked king's landing, but before you could move Daemon pulled you to sit next to him making your nerves multiple with each step. Your free hand moved to your stomach when the doors opened reavling the king and his hand, you were such a nervous wreck that you couldn't even get up and so respect so you just looked down at your lap instead waiting for this to be over.

You were surpised that otto didn't say anything to your presents neither did the king, so the meeting begin and they discussed what happened last night. It seemed like time moved slow as they talked, you glanced at daemon who wore a bored looked as he listened to lord strong talk no wonder he hated coming to these meetings they were so fucking dull. You kept yourself from yawning for the fifth time already, how can anyone stand to listen to otto talk when all he been doing is countering everyones response while the king sat there like a statue.

"Now, that we got that resolved. Daemon. What did you wish to announce." Viserys asked looking over at his brother.

"That I have found a wife and she's expecting." He smiled widely looking at you before looking back at his brother, viserys along with the rest of the men looked stunned.

"O-oh, daemon. That's good news." He looked over at Otto a bit lost for words, before looking back at daemon.

"We will be getting married in the beginning of spring." You looked over at Otto who leaned forward with his hands in front of him.

"And may I asked, m'lady. What house are you from?" You swallow as everyone eyes were on you.

"She's doesn't belong to a house–"

"So, she's a commoner. What do your father do?" He asked.

"I never knew my father, my lord." You answered, "...what about your mother?" The king asked making you looked at him hesitated to answer.

"She was–She worked in a brothel back at diftmark, my king."

"Not only a commer, but a bastard one at that." Otto sighs glancing at the king who wore a small frown, daemon looked at Otto with a void look before turning his attention back to his brother.

"I wish to marry her and I want you there to witness it," the king looked conflicted before he can open his mouth otto spoke up.

"We have already arranged a marriage in The Vale with House Royce to lady rhea royce of runestone." Daemon scoffed.

"The Vale? In the Vale, men are said to fuck sheep instead of women. I can assure you, the sheep are prettier." He said snarky glaring at Otto, you bite your lip holding in snicker.

"She is a good and honorable woman from a great house, while your..." Otto looked at you with disfavor causing daemon put his hand over his sword handle, "...paramour comes from no house has no titles, and fundamentally is a bastard and daughter of a whore. She and her unborn child will bring nothing but shame upon this house." You link your hand with daemon's hand from under the table feeling the rage radiating off him.

"Your words hold nothing to me, she is the woman I wish to marry." Otto rolled his eyes.

"Your grace–" Otto looked to king viserys but daemon cut him off.

"I could have stayed in dragonstone..." he said catching viserys attention, "I could have gotten married without your knowing I could have let you found out through gossip and hearsay but I didn't." Daemon confessed.

"I came to you face to face instead, out of my love for my family and for her. So, I ask you brother for your blessing to marry the woman I love." The men and you were taken back by daemon's words, no one ever heard daemon beg he wasn't weak like that but it seems for you he make a exception.

"You have my blessing."

"Your grace–" Otto said shocked.

"No, I made my decision." The king got up making everyone follow suit, he walked over to you grabbing your hand.

"Welcome to the family." He smiled making you shake his hand thanking him, he left with a brooding otto following after him leaving only you and daemon alone.

"How do you feel?" He asked.

"Like I'm about to be sick." You giggle nervously turning to him, " I can't belive he said yes." Your turned your head to the door where everyone left.

"My brother have a soft heart, one of his biggest weaknesses but also one of his redeeming qualities." His hand rested on your cheek making you to him giving him a teasing smile.

"So, you love me?" He looked down at you before shrugging with a thoughtful look.

"Maybe. Do you love me?" He asked, you made a looking as if you were thinking.

"Hmmm, I'm getting there." You smiled making him lean down and kiss you, but like before you dodge it having him kiss your cheek.

"Come on. You are I need of a bath." He hummed walking behind you with his arms around your waist.

"Will you join me?" He whispered near your ear making nudge him with your elbow slighly making him chuckle.

"I'll think about it." He hmmed again kissing your neck as you giggled echoed through the halls.

[starlight-writer]

First Kiss

Warnings: none, fluff, slight angst for Steven

Gn Reader Masterlist

Steven

From the start of his day, Steven was in a terrible mood

First he woke up really late and wasn’t able to eat breakfast or get coffee so he was extra grumpy and tired

Then Donna yelled at him for being late and made him stay late after work to take inventory

Then at lunch he dropped his sandwich and had to wait in a really long line to get another sandwich but by the time he got it, lunch was over

Then an elementary school class toured around the museum and was so so loud, making his head pulse and ache

Then he had to wait in the rain for his bus and he was squished beyond belief between a really smelly guy and a mom holding a crying baby

And then he finally got home and plopped on his bed only for his phone to remind him that he had a date with you

Immediately, his headache faded and his tiredness morphed into excitement

His missed lunch and overtime would be all worth it when he sees your face

But just as he walked out of his flat, he got a text from you saying you would be late

That’s fine, he’ll just go now and order some drinks while he waits

But then 30 minutes later you texted and said you would be longer than planned

That’s ok, he’ll just get some appetizers

And a refill

And some more appetizers

Maybe he should just order your food now and nibble at it until you show up

Maybe he should just eat

Maybe he should go home...

He tried texting you for the past 2 hours, but you weren’t answering

Maybe something important came up

Maybe your boss is being a dick and keeping you late

Maybe... Maybe you didn’t want to come

Maybe this was your way of breaking it to him that you didn’t want to be with him anymore

Feeling completely dejected and rejected, Steven payed the bill and left, ignoring the pitiful stares of the wait staff and customers

He tried texting you one more time before starting the long, depressing walk home

He didn’t want to take the bus again in case he saw you riding home or to another date with someone else

And he’s so glad he did

Just as he was about to round the corner to the street his apartment was on, he heard his name being shouted

He turned to find you sprinting down the road looking completely wreaked

Your clothes were all over the place and you looked absolutely exhausted

Before he even got a chance to acknowledge you, you start ranting on about how sorry you were

You had a very important presentation to give at work and you had to work on it all last night because your entire file was corrupted then you spilled your bosses coffee on your shirt so you had to go home, change, and apologize to all of your coworkers for being late because your boss just loved seeing you embarrassed, you swear he’s got something against you and then you were held up at work because apparently your boss was embezzling funds from the company and you had to be questioned by police and you swear you would’ve texted Steven if the police hadn’t confiscated your phone cause they thought you were a part of your bosses scheme and when you finally got your phone back, it was dead so you had to run all the way here cause he wasn’t at the restaurant and you really really like Steven, he’s the best guy you’ve ever dated and you really think you love him and-

Now, let me get this straight, Steven would never, ever, stop you from rambling about anything

He loves watching you talk about something your passionate about whether it be positive passion or negative

But in that moment, he couldn’t help himself from kissing you right then in there

It was a little awkward and messy, but neither of you would trade that kiss for any other passionate and sweet ones you would share down the road

It took some time for either of you to pull away, but when you did, Steven looked at you like you were everything, like you were the original and only print of an Ancient Egyptian history book that holds any piece of knowledge he could want

It made you weak in the knees

Steven accepted your apology and asked if you wanted to go back to his flat for coffee and a movie

You two spent the rest of the night snuggling and stealing kisses, muttering cheesy words of love between giggles

Marc

Finally, it was the end of your shift and you were walking out of your work place

It wasn’t a bad day, per say, but you were extremely happy to get off of work and see your boyfriends

At this point in your relationship, you knew all about Steven and Jake and could almost perfectly tell who was fronting by the way their eyes look

Which the boys would never admit, both freaked them out and made them feel so loved that you payed so much attention

So when you walked down the steps of your work building and greeting Marc without hesitation, he felt a particularly warmth glow in his chest

“Hey, babe, how was-”

Poor Marc didn’t see it coming

You wrapped your arms around Marc’s neck and kissed him, cutting off his sentence

Woah

He hummed in surprise and froze like a deer in headlights

No thoughts, head empty

Besides his internal screaming with Steven cheering for him and Jake grumbling in Spanish

Even after you pulled away and asked if he was alright, Marc didn’t budge 

Or blink

Finally, after practically screaming his name, Marc looks at you with complete love and awe with the biggest smile you’ve ever seen

He grabs your face and kisses you, pouring every ounce of love and passion he can

A few people whistled and cheered making the two of you part, Marc blushing a bright red, but smiling all the same

He took you home, holding your hand the entire drive and kissing it occasionally

He was so happy, nothing could’ve ruined his mood

Not even Khonshu

Jake

If Jake was the last one you kissed, he would absolutely be salty until you kissed him

If he’s the first, be prepared to hear Steven and Marc yelling at him at random times because he won’t stop bragging

Your first kiss with Jake wasn’t as sweet and romantic Jake hoped it would be

He would’ve loved to plan everything out and wait until the perfect moment to sweep you off your feet and completely daze you with his kiss, but that didn’t happen

Though if you ask him, he’d trade a thousand romantic kisses for this moment

Jake was standing by his car waiting for you

You needed a ride from a work function and Jake had rose to the occasion like the knight and shinning armor he is

He was twirling his phone in his hand when he looked up to find you turning the corner

He smiled, but it quickly faded as he noticed you walking particularly fast and looking behind you nervously

“Carino-”

“Someone’s following me and I need you to play along.”

“What?”

Oh they’re in for a world of hurt

How dare someone try to hurt you

Jake’s fully aware that you can take care of yourself, but he was ready to push you behind him and absolutely rock this creeps shit

You had other plans

Instead of causing a scene and possibly getting arrested, you grabbed the collar of Jake’s coat and pulled him forward, smashing his lips onto yours

Oh be still his beating heart

Seriously, be still, he doesn’t want you thinking he’s got a soft spot for you

He was definitely shocked at first, but he quickly kissed back, holding the back of your neck and hip

Jake snuck a peak behind you to find a guy stopping and quickly turning around

He’ll have to visit him soon

You and Jake stood there for a bit longer before you pulled away and hugged him

“Is he gone?”

“I don’t know, maybe you should kiss me again just in case.”

You chuckled and pushed Jake away from the car so you could get in the passenger seat

Jake stood there for a minute, completely ecstatic

He drove the two of you home shortly after walking behind the car and pumping his fist in excitement

He kept a hand on your leg the entire drive, a large dazzling smile never leaving his face

And when you got home, he didn’t leave your side

Or face

[sister-lucifer]

Invisible Man

Ghost!Idia x Male Reader 

Reader uses he/him and has a penis 

Summary: A drabble about how ghost Idia would treat his unwanted guest 

Content/warnings: ghost fucking ig, dub con/non con elements, Idia being a creep

Like my writing? I take requests! NSFW or SFW for any fandoms in my bio 

Also please reblog! It’s free, takes two seconds, and really helps me out (you can also use it to let me know if i should i make a full fic of this;) )

Idia had done everything in his power to keep this house from being sold. He had managed to scare out every human who so much as took a step in, so how to the hell did YOU manage to buy the place?

He was fuming. Absolutely livid. So mad that the lights would flicker when he stomped by. 

But then he saw you. 

If he had a heart, it would be fluttering. If he had blood, his face would be bright red.  The moment he laid eyes on you the entire house filled with an icy chill, one that you promptly brushed off as a draft. 

How desperately he wanted this human. How suddenly he realized that being all alone for this long had really gotten to him. How pent up he suddenly felt. 

But he couldn’t just go up and talk to you. You’d be terrified! You’d leave and never come back, just like everyone else!

But he didn’t need to. 

It would start small: Clothes going missing, doors opening or closing on their own, waking up in the middle of the night in a cold sweat and not knowing why. All things that could be rationally explained. Nothing to be concerned about. 

Then it started getting worse. You were sure you fell asleep on the couch, how did you wind up in bed? 

Did you really feel hands on your hips, or did you imagine that?

And if you did, did you imagine feeling someone laying in bed next to you as well? 

You really started panicking when you found out where all your missing clothes had been going. By total chance you stumbled upon a secret compartment in the wall only Idia knew about. You were at first intrigued, but that curiosity turned to horror when you opened it and countless pairs of your underwear fell out(and some of them were definitely sticky). 

Idia couldn’t help but laugh to himself as you shrieked and stumbled back in a panic, almost as if you’d been burned, and promptly fell flat on your ass. You scrambled away quickly, running to your room and locking the door. Good thing Idia wasn’t at all inhibited by solid barriers. 

He watched as you frantically dialed your friend, practically screaming into the phone. When you finally finished and stopped hyperventilating, they advised you to look to the police. Unfortunately, this idea didn’t sit well with you. There was no sign of a break in, and without definitive proof of an intruder, what could they do? Nonetheless you told them you’d think about it, but in reality you had no intention of doing so. 

On top of that, you didn’t want to lose this house. It was expensive although completely worth the price, but you didn’t have enough money to buy another house and no one to stay with. Remaining was your only choice. 

For Idia this was a godsend. For you it was a one way ticket to Hell.

Day after day he only got braver. Day after day it only became more and more obvious that you weren’t alone, and as much as you didn’t want to submit to the childish idea of ghosts, you had no other option. 

How else could you explain the tugging on your pants and shirt when there clearly wasn’t anyone there? 

How else could you explain having the blankets ripped off of you in the middle of the night? 

How else could you explain the touches and gropes and grabs from invisible hands? 

The more apparent it became that you weren’t going anywhere, the bolder Idia got. For a long while the worst he did was the occasional grab to your bulge, maybe even a small spank, but he soon wanted more. 

You had just been sitting on the couch reading a book, jumping at every creak or thump. You were trying to keep a sense of normalcy, but that went out the window when Idia slapped the book from your hand. You panicked, looking around frantically despite knowing that you wouldn’t see the culprit. 

This was the first time he really got to see you, the first time he worked up the courage to tug down your shorts. You tried to pull his hand away, but you simply phased through him. How were you supposed to stop something you couldn’t see or feel? 

You had no choice but to let him strip you, your shorts and boxers falling to the floor. Of course you tried to cover yourself, but a bit of ghostly magic easily pinned your arms to your sides. 

Despite your whines and pleas for mercy, there was no denying that you were already half hard. Your cock twitched in his cold, unseen hands that sent shivers down your spine, and soon your protests dissolved into nothing more than pathetic moans. 

That was the first time he made you cum, right there on the couch. And when he was done he simply redressed you, giving your bulge a playful pat and then went about his merry way.

You stayed on that couch for a long while, pondering. For so long you’d been afraid of this mysterious force, but now something felt…different. You looked down at your cum stained shirt, your quivering legs, reminders of him. There was no denying how the memories of his unseen touch made you shiver with delight, even when all rational thinking should’ve had you running for the door. 

This was only the start, of course, but every time Idia snuck up on you like that you became a bit more pliant until eventually you weren’t fighting him at all. 

You wanted him to come up behind you and wrap his arms around your waist, pulling you in close.

You wanted him to wake you in the night by spreading your legs wide and generously pleasuring you with his mouth. 

You wanted him to slip a hand down your pants every chance he got, feeling up every part of you. 

If you got to spend eternity being pleasured by such a tireless lover, how bad could it really be?

[angry-geese]

For Myself

Sukuna x Reader

Warnings: nsfw mention. mention of violence, blood, injury, and cannibalism. implied murder. starts off kind of dark but gets fluffier towards the end. gn!reader.

obligatory warning for my poor editing skills. if theres any egregious errors i'll get to them when i get home from work

Summary: some fluff where Sukuna comforts the reader while they're sick

Word Count: 2.4k

He's certain you would be more comfortable in his lap than on the floor. Even as he beckons you to sit, you refuse, turning your gaze away. You adjust your position to a more comfortable spot on your knees. The floor is hard and cold, but you don't have much longer to wait anyway. Sukuna has grown bored of the man standing in front of him. A peace offering, in exchange for not razing their village. A young woman, brought here against her own will. Her life to replace yours. It's nothing Sukuna wants, nor can he make use of her. She’s no sorcerer, likely no good in a fight, and too frail to be worth eating.

Worst of all, it insults you.

An insult to you, is an insult to Sukuna himself.

The man was only delaying the inevitable. Humans have a habit of doing that. They’re resilient, like cockroaches. You can squash, poison, trap, or drop a nuke on as many as you want to, but they’ll always come back.

He planned on killing him from the moment he stepped foot in the door.

And when he kills him, he makes sure to have the woman watch. She lays curled at your feet as you regard them both with cold eyes. Not a scream passes her lips. She’s either frozen with fear, or knows that moving is the worst thing she can do.

She begs for her life.

Sukuna leaves it up to you to decide.

It was an insult to you, after all. In a past life you could see yourself letting her go. There's many things in life you used to do that are no longer habits of yours. You were in her shoes years ago. Time has hardened you, made you cruel. If a past version of you could look at you now, you don't know if you’d recognize yourself. Not all change is bad. People are meant to change, and they’re going to do so.

You give her a minute to start running. After that, it's up to Sukuna with what he wants to do with her.

She takes the opportunity, thinking she has a chance to survive, and flees. The guards and servants let her. Your word is second to Sukuna’s. The only person who could overturn an order put in place by you is Sukuna himself. He usually doesn't. The resulting chaos from anything you do is good entertainment. And he has all the time in the world. Being immortal leads to a lot of boredom.

Sukuna would hunt her down before she could escape the estate.

Nobody got away from him. Not even you. Nowadays you’re much less serious about leaving but you still threaten it if he dares piss you off.

He'd never let you go. You know that. Try as you will, you're never getting free.

Not that you have anything to go back to. And you're rather comfortable here. Comfortable may be a bit of a stretch, but you're housed, fed, and protected. The basic human needs are taken care of. Sukuna cares about you in his own, twisted way. You may have first been just a plaything to keep his stomach full and his balls empty—a toy to be discarded after a day or two—but you've earned a place by his side. He wakes up next to you, he goes to sleep next to you. He's grown used to having you around. And you to him.

You're just as much his, as he is yours.

Everything about the man is selfish, and all-consuming. But when he is with you, he finds himself giving for the first time in his life.

He gets a servant to draw him a bath. He has the decency to scrub the blood off before finding you, and asking you to join him. His bloodied kimono is replaced with a clean one. It's black, the sleeves are wide enough to accommodate his four arms. Blood doesn't bother you, but he doesn't want to track it all over his house.

Something is wrong.

He doesn't remember you getting hurt, but you’re acting like you’re injured. He thinks back to this morning, how he had to drag you out of bed. How sluggish you acted.

Worry creases itself between his eyebrows.

Your mortality was something he knew of, but never gave much thought. There was no need to. The mortality of others was something he didn't care about. You weren't supposed to be kept long. You were merely a sacrifice, meant to appease Sukuna, and in turn he wouldn't raze your village. While young, and pretty, not good enough to save your people. He planned on fucking you, burning your village to the ground, then eating you. Not necessarily in that order, but that was the plan.

He's taken everything from you. Your home, your life, your family. Even as you were forced to face your fate, you never gave in, never lost your bite. You defied him and lived. You had a malicious streak in you. You were never as sweet and as innocent as the people of your village first played you up to be. Years later you still put up the same fight. It's a constant back and forth between you two.

You’d never be able to hurt him. As much as you'd scratch and bite, you'd never so much as draw blood. Harming the King of Curses was not an easy task.

His 'love' was much more material at first. As you got settled down, survived more than a week, gifts appeared. Jeweled hair pins and beautiful, expensive kimonos appeared. All made just for you. He'd never admit to being behind it. You were not complacent, but you were comfortable. You were his spoiled pet. That didn't stop you from clawing at his eyes whenever he picked you up when you didn't want to be touched. Being spoiled didn't make you nice.

None of his pets have lasted quite as long as you have. At least eight times the trees of his estate have shriveled and turned brown in winter, and the ground has hardened with frost. At least eight times they've bloomed and have had the life of spring breathed back into them, and the ground has thawed and turned muddy. You just did what you had to in order to survive. You've more than just survived. Some would say you’ve thrived. You would beg to differ. If you were the begging type.

He still views you as a pet. You’re human after all. Though sometimes it feels like you’re becoming more curse than human. Being viewed as an equal to him is impossible, but he values you. You're not something that can easily be replaced.

His hand touches your shoulder from behind. You don't flinch. You used to flinch. Then you started swinging. You're never able to hurt him. You're strong, but not that strong.

"She was far too frail to eat," you say, "I assumed you didn't want to keep her for that."

You don't eat human meat. Or try not to. Early on in your stay, before you knew better… It wasn't pork. Uraume was a wonderful cook, but not for anything you ate. Personally it's not your thing. Non-human meat is hard to come by around here, so you’ve stopped eating the stuff altogether. If you wanted it, Sukuna would make a servant get it for you, but you are content without it.

"You made the right call." He says. You always do.

He slips beside you, watching as you remove the intricate pins from your hair. You always loved your hair. Even at your darkest moment you took great care of it. It was a source of pride for you.

A wave of nausea rolls over you. Sweat beads in your hairline, rolling down your back, under the thin fabric of your—his—robe. You have little need for clothes. It doesn't get that cold here. Sukuna tears them off you anyway. Covering yourself up isn't necessary, but you do it out of modesty, and a sense of normalcy. You protest as he pulls at the fastenings of your robe, the flimsy fabric pooling at your feet. You have no plans on getting wet, you’d much rather go to bed. You’re tired, and you don't want to be bothered.

The tub is large enough to fit several of you. You guess it's fitting. The man is huge. He settles into the water behind you, pulling you to his chest. Try as you will, you’re not going to be able to struggle out of his grip. You’re too tired to put up much of a fight, though you do complain.

One of his sets of arms wraps around you, effectively trapping you in place. The other pulls a washcloth from the side of the tub, into the water with you. As much as you hate to admit it, the warm water feels nice against your sore muscles.

Sukuna is not a sentimental man. But with the way his hands trace across your skin, soft, lovingly, like he’s reading a book of braille, makes you think otherwise. He doesn't leer at the curves of your body like he normally does. His eyes scan across your body, looking for any sign of injury.

When he deems you clean enough, and your skin has turned a nice shade of pink from the hot water, he lets you go. You're the first to get out, drying yourself off. You never realized how cold the room was before.

He hauls you into his arms. You do little to protest, which worries him.

The King of Curses has no need for sleep. The bed mostly serves for asthetic purposes, though he's not opposed to fucking you across any flat surface, you seem to favor softer ones.

Much like the tub, his bed is large enough to fit several of you. You feel dwarfed by its size. The man is huge, he needs a bed to fit. You could sprawl out as wide as possible and never have any of your limbs hanging over the sides.

He follows you, silent.

He can't recall ever letting any of his pets share his bed before. Some have tried. Tried. He can't recall any of them surviving as long as you have, either. He finds himself irritated at the thought of anything bad ever happening to you.

He doesn't join you in bed.

He doesn't need sleep the same way humans do. He can, but if he were to decide not to, it would bring no harm to him. He used to never dream. It was something he did, back when he was human, but that time has long passed. But whenever he dreamed, he’d wake up next to you. Experiences like that made him realize just why humans like to sleep so much. Before he never woke up rested; he was never tired in the first place.

You shove the covers aside and crawl underneath. They smell like him. He snubs out the candle burning on the side table with his index finger and thumb. Though it's dark, there’s enough light in the room to make out his much-larger form.

You shiver, although sweat forms along your skin in a thin sheen. Sukuna knows it's not cold. He sits on the edge of the bed, the mattress dipping under his weight. The back of his hand presses to your forehead. You’re burning up.

You were warm before, but he thought it was because of the bath. He’s not really sure what to do. It's rare moments like these that he's forced to face your mortality. He knows you're fragile—compared to him—but he can't bear the thought of something bad happening to you.

One of his large hands moves to cup your cheek. It's just as warm as your forehead. The pad of his thumb runs across your cheekbone.

"Stay with me." You say. You stretch your arms out towards him, making grabbing motions with your hands.

You’re not one to beg. Even when faced with death, you look it straight in the eyes. Call it bravery, or lack of self preservation. He admired that about you. You ignored your mortality because it did not matter to you.

“What's the matter, pet?”

“I don't feel too good.” You say.

Though he doesn't say it, he can tell.

“I’ll get Uraume-”

“No,” your arms wrap around his neck, pulling him back towards your chest, “no. I’m okay.”

He settles down beside you in bed, on top of the covers. When he opens his arms, you go right into them. He makes sure to keep the blankets tucked around you. Sukuna runs warm naturally. You huddle close to him, trying to steal his warmth. Though your face feels abnormally warm, you shiver. His much larger body lays partially on top of yours, his head resting on your chest, ear pressed to your skin. He can hear your heartbeat. Steady, and alive. Something low in your chest rattles when you breathe.

He should get a servant to bring you water, or some tea. It occurs to him how little he knows about the mundane things humans do to make themselves feel better. Not that he ever needed to care. In all the years you’ve been by his side, he’s never seen anything like this happen. He can't decide, and instead calls for both. If you need medicine, he’ll get that too, but you don't seem to be at that point. Uraume knows more about humans than he does. He’s no doctor, but he’ll work. If he asks you, you’ll just say you’re fine.

He holds the cup up to you, beckoning you to drink. The glass is cold against your lips. Even as your hands wrap around it, he doesn't let it go. He sets the empty glass on the side table with a soft thunk.

His large hand smoothes over your head, brushing your hair out of your eyes. His nails feel nice against your scalp. Nothing about the man is soft, but when he’s left alone with you, moments like this are bound to happen. You allow yourself to be pet. The heat, combined with the weight of his body, threatens to lull you off to sleep. The ache in your joints keeps you from doing so.

When he kisses you, you taste like a curse.

[sunsents]

Content 2/2 - F.W (M)

Empty Chapter II

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

CROSS POSTED TO WATTPAD HERE

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

Pairing: fredweasley x fem!reader

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

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

Rating: 18+

DON’T REPOST MY WORK

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

Five Years Later, 2003

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

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

Aleyna quirks a brow, "Whose Stacey?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Fleur! What are you doing here?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Auntie ____!"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Ginny pauses, “Erm, yeah…”

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

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

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

“____?”

And then, you’re suffocating.

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

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

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

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

He’s still wearing the bracelet you gave him.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

His eyes grow wide. “Sorry Ma’am.”

Someone clears their throat.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Well, stand straight soldier!” you demand.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Damn, I’ll drink to that.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“So, any plans for Christmas Eve ____?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Sighing, you set your hand on your lap.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Aleyna, don’t.” you nudge her arm.

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

“Wha-“

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

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

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

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

“How’s Blaise doing by the way?”

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

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

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

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

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

Or maybe he did, only you didn’t see.

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

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

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

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

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

————————

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

Jambo’s no different.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Absolute blasphemy.

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

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

Of course your logic sucks.

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

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

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

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

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

Woah, you’ve had your coffee today.

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

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

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

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

“Morning, I know it’s early and-”

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

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

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

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

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

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

Woah, down girl.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Alright.” he says softly.

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

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

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

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

“Eva!”

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

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

Fred winces. “Actually-”

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

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

You freeze. “What?”

They broke up? “Why, oh Fred-”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Nonetheless, you smile. “Just that what?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

That turns the after taste into pure panic.

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

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

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

——————

You look good.

Or, at least you think you do.

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

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

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

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

“Sounds like a you problem.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Aleyna gives you both questioning looks.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“____!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Why!” says Ginny, banging another fist.

“I think you know why,” says Harry.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What I meant to say was, I wan-“

“Oh my god, ____, Fred!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

She doesn’t wish you a merry christmas.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Well what changed your mind?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I’m not upset, I’m tired.” you sigh.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Eva stutters, “What?”

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

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

“No, he won’t.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I didn’t mean to cheat you know!”

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

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

“Yeah, you!” you cry.

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

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

——————

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

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

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

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

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

“Why didn’t you tell me she cheated?”

Fred’s expression softens. “What?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Fred freezes - second time that night.

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

Fuck fuck fuck.

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

But it was too late.

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

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

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

You almost swallow your tongue.

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

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

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

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

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

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

“That’s Freddie for you, love.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I know.”

“Then why didn’t you come back?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Fuck.

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

“Finally!” George yells.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“____.”

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

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

You smile back, “Oh it’s alright.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Took you long enough.”

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

“I won’t.”

Your lie slips so easily.

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

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

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

“____.”

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

“____, darling.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Yes it does, and stupid!”

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

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

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

“That doesn’t explain the rest-“

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

“I can’t do this tonight Fred-“

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

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

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

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

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

“Goodnight Fred, merry christmas.”

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

————

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You should talk to him. You should go outside, get fresh air, make out a game plan and at least talk to him. Fred’s kind, the funniest, most lovingly stubborn man you’ve ever met. He doesn’t deserve what you’re putting him through. You don’t want to leave things so bittersweet again, you want to keep seeing George, even Fred if time allows.

The pain of your past doesn’t allow you to follow your desires. You hate yourself for it and it’s only a matter of time before you break and go back to your old, quiet self. It’s as if the past got your wrists on lock, holding you back whenever you try to sprint free and love again. You thought Fred would have unlocked the chains and swept you away, but that was before you decided that he shouldn’t.

Gripping the fur comb on your left hand, Jambo watches you walk over to him with big eyes. He looks triumphant, lying on his chubby stomach and readying himself for the brush of his three year life.

Knock Knock

Perhaps this is why Jambo hates Aleyna. You chuckle. “Sorry Bo, give me a minute. She probably forgot her coat again.”

You put down the comb and rush over to the door. Not bothering to check through the peephole, you fling the door open while laughing. “Forgot your condoms or some-“

By the look Fred gives you, you’d think he hits it raw.

“Fred.” you whisper, frozen with your hand gripped on the handle.

He looks haggard, eye bags under his eyes with slightly damp hair sticking out obscenely from the sides. It looks longer, or perhaps it's the way he quickly runs a hand through it and smooths it back. You probably look no different, yet Fred still looks unfairly handsome, eyes dripping with honey and curved bottom lip tucked between his teeth.

Your heart hammers in your chest as you take in his appearance. He’s wearing a simple black pullover with a pea coat messily tucking in the material of his hoodie. You can see the after effects of the snow outside visible on his grey sweatpants, you can’t tell if he came to your house straight after working out for…however long he works out to have thighs like that.

“Can I-“ he gives you a look over and you blush. There’s a hundred different things you want to say, and you merely stay quiet and look at him with hopeful eyes. Coward. “Can I come in?”

You step aside wordlessly. He takes one, big step and he’s inside. Cursing his giant legs, you close the door behind him.

“Wow,” he clears his throat, looking around your apartment. “Nice place.”

“Thank you.”

Fred’s hand twitches when he hears your voice, as if he hadn’t heard it since he was a child. As if he was hearing it for the first time.

As soon as he steps in, his cologne engulfs the air around him - as if he’s marking himself in your house and leaving his delicious after taste. You would tell him he smells amazing but the air between you is too tense to say anything but;

“Fred I-“

“I wanted to-“

Fred breaks out into a smile, and you follow. It looks like a grimace, a hopeful one though. “I wanted to apologize.”

Your heart swells. You know it shouldn’t, because you don’t deserve an apology but the fact that he thought of you makes you feel like you have another chance. Of course you do, the poor man walked over to your house in the middle of a snowstorm. There’s got to be something there, right?

“Fred,-“

“No, let me finish this time.”

You stay silent.

“Been trying to think of the right ruddy words to say this past week but fuck that.” he growls, shrugging off his coat when you offer. “I’m not waiting any bloody longer.”

“I admit that at some point,” he starts, taking a deep breath. “I had feelings for Eva. That’s why I didn’t break up with her. It was well after three months of us dating and I thought I moved on.” you usher him to sit down, quickly following behind. Your legs feel wobbly as he continues.

“That’s why I didn’t break up with her, and I won’t deny that what I had with her was nice, but it wasn’t you. No one ever compared to you ____. I was fine until you decided to stop being our friend.”

“I didn’t decide that, It was something I had to do.” you defend fiercely, sitting next to him on the bar stool of your kitchen island. Damn rich apartments.

“I know that now, but at that time I thought you hated me. I clung onto Eva because I thought - seeing as she was your childhood friend - we’d be friends again.”

You scoff. “Look how that turned out.”

Fred raises a brow.

“Sorry, continue.”

“I started getting over it until that summer happened. It killed me to see you again, that’s when I realized I could never stop loving you. I blamed myself for everything, for fucking up all my chances even though I-“

You put a hand on his shoulder, “Freddie, you didn’t do anything wrong.”

Fred pauses, squeezes your hand and gives you a wide, hopeful smile that punches you right in the heart. His head dips down to rest on your shoulder and he sighs. “You called me Freddie.”

“I did.” you smile.

“I wanted to talk to you, but you kept avoiding me. With the war and everything I just couldn’t, especially after that near death thing.”

“Near what?” You gasp.

Fred chuckles, as if it was no big deal. It makes your chest ache. “I got trapped under a wall, Georgie saved me. Owe him my bloody life. Took me sometime to get over it though, those were the times I needed someone the most.” he takes a deep breath before continuing.

“It was around those times that I found out Eva cheated on me. She was acting dodgy the past few months, and I feel awful for feeling relieved when we broke up.”

“But, that’s not your fault.” you sigh, hand caressing his back gently. He relaxes at your touch and a smile tugs at your lip at this. “You don’t owe Eva a damn thing. It’s okay to feel like that, because I do.”

Fred laughs, a small melodic sound that brings you pride that you pulled it out of him. “Oh, is that how it works now?”

“Yep, I said so.” you give him a toothy grin, and he chuckles, further causing your ruin.

But you can’t let things get too comfortable, not before you’re completely honest with him. Here he is, vulnerable and open, telling you his entire life story and you sure as hell are going to do the same - minus some embarrassing parts.

“Do you,” you clear your throat, awkwardly shuffling on your stool. The seat is uncomfortable and it makes everything all the more frustrating. “Do you want to know what I was thinking before you showed up?”

Fred pauses, gaze lingering over your face attentively. Breath catching, you let him look at you. Directly, fully look at you. He flushes, quickly hidden away by his hand when he nods his head slowly and leans on his palm.

“I was thinking of you.”

“Oh?”

“Yeah, I was thinking if I should just go to you myself.”

Fred takes a quick breath. Shuddering because of the cold, surely, his tone is soft and barely above a whisper. “Why didn’t you?”

“I was scared you’d reject me. I was going to apologize to you, get on my knees and beg for forgiveness until you gave me a second chance.”

“Oh.”

You let him grasp your chin and turn your face towards his, he lovingly strokes your cheek, long finger somehow reaching easily. “I’m sorry Freddie, I love you.”

“I’ve waited to hear those words for so long.” his chest heaves when he responds.

“Well, how much of a let down is it?” you smile, nuzzling your hand in his palm.

He leans in and presses a kiss to your forehead, then to your cheek. “Let down?” he tells you, as if he heard the most obscene thing. “It’s so much better than I could have imagined, and I’m sorry too. I hate myself for letting you go through so much pain on your own. If I wasn’t such a clueless git I could’ve done this much earlier.”

“Do what?”

Fred kisses you. It’s not urgent, nor wanton, it’s soft and tender that still leaves you breathless. He leans his forehead against yours, and you ruin the kiss by smiling but he couldn’t care less. Opening your mouth, you let him flick your tongues together until it’s a sloppy, needy mess.

He groans, and that’s when you know the kiss progressed much too far to stop now. The needy ache between your legs pushes you to hover yourself over him, and his strong arms grasp you by the waist. His lips aren’t a perfect fit, it makes the kiss all the more pleasurable and it’s until he’s slowly walking towards your bedroom with your legs tucked around his hips that you break away.

“Fred,” you sigh when he sets you down against a wall. “I want you.”

He frowns, “It’s Freddie, how many times-“ he gathers your knee in one hand and pushes his crotch against your center with a grunt. “Do I have to tell you?”

You barely respond, clawing at his back. The curve of his thick cock gradually growing, his thighs encasing around your legs feels too damn good and you don’t know how long until you’re fully at his mercy. Fred roughly rolls his hips, a deep grumble leaving him and the stimulation is enough to make you whine. “Again,” you rock your pervis.

“Oh yeah?” he smirks, humping you harder. “You like this? How much? Let me feel.”

You rut against him desperately, trying to get off on the friction Fred barely decides to provide.

True to his word, Fred kisses you again with a groan, this time sparing you no tenderness and sucking on your bottom lip until it throbs. His hips continue to rut all the while his free hand slithers down your clavicle, down the sides of your waist - he makes sure to spread his palm wide to feel you everywhere - until he teasingly snaps the band of your pyjama bottoms. You yelp, relishing in his moans.

“If you like it so much- well shit.” his eyes flutter shut the moment he feels your slick from your underwear. “My love, you’re so wet that I bet I can taste you through your panties.”

If you weren’t wearing your yellow duck polka dot panties this would have been more sexier, and it takes Fred talking about eating you out to realize - oh my god, you’re wearing your duck panties.

“Fred, don-“

Fred has already pushed your bottoms down, revealing the abomination and further causing your face to feel hotter.

“Oh?” he smirks. “Sexy lingerie, all for me?”

You groan, hiding your face in his shoulder while he laughs at you. You feel his chest bob, and you can’t help but giggle alongside him.

“Now, strip.” he commands, and all the humor in the situation vanishes in an instant.

He lets go of your knee and you easily slip out of your bottoms, then slowly said polka dot panties. He grips your thighs, hoisting you up on his hips again and before you know it, he’s stumbling into your room.

His hand is cupping the back of your head, somehow gone there the moments he walked. You wouldn’t know, it’s hard to concentrate on anything else when the heat of his cock between your thighs feels like that.

Fred deposits you on the messily scattered forest you call your bed, and the smell of linen mixed with his cologne is enough for you to grind your hips on nothing.

Fred tuts, pushing a palm flat on your hip. He trails his hand between your legs and palms your pussy, bare. “Babe, you’re dripping. Since how long?”

You whine, “Since the moment you walked through - ah, my door.”

Fred’s eyes glaze over with nothing but dangerous greed. Dipping his knee on the mattress, he manhandles you into submission. “You think you can just get away with saying shit like that?” he groans, eyes fixating on wherever it lands on your body. It’s like he’s trying to take it all in, overwhelmed yet still wanton.

He shuffles to sit against your headboard and pats his large thigh, you waste no time crawling towards him. He quickly grabs your waist before you can approach him. Pulling you against him with your knees propped between his thighs, he’s face to face with your pussy and drooling.

“Such a sweet, pretty cunt.” he breathes, gently kissing your clit. You cry out, knees buckling but Fred’s large palms are flat on your ass and adamant on keeping you up and against his lips. Your center throbs, this is all you have ever wanted - the both of you have ever wanted and Fred has the audacity to tease.

“I know, I know.” He gently sushes. “I need to,” his head leans on your abdomen, desperate. “Need to get you ready for my cock.”

You barely nod, Fred seems to be in battle with himself. You don’t know which side wins, until he starts to suckle your clit with continuous, obscene kissing noises. You grip his shoulder, body bending in half. It feels so good, too good that you can’t hold straight. “Please - Fred,”

Gasping, your pelvis rocks forward. He keeps you still with his muscles digging in your hips, ass, back - everywhere he’s desperately roaming and memorizing.

His tongue finally darts forward - you knew that goddam tongue would be what did it - you nearly collapse, melting forward. It’s wet and warm and god - almost what you imagine his dick might feel like if it ever prods at your entrance.

He’s licking with bold, textured strokes. Your thighs are quivering, it’s the sudden brush of pleasure that meets your cunt every other second that causes this.

“Shit,” Fred pulls back, one hand holding your thighs wider. His thumb circles around your entrance and you cry out in pleasure. “My balls feel so fucking tight ____. If I keep this up, I might just come before I can put my dick in you.”

“Then - ahh Freddie!”

“Don’t get mouthy with me.” he smirks, sliding a finger inside. “I knew what you were gonna say before you opened that sweet mouth of yours.”

He fucks you like this, wet squelching noise mixing with your pants and moans. Working you open, Fred curls a finger inside and your thighs finally give out. “Merlin, you’re gonna get it,” he gives you a sweet kiss on the stomach. “I’m just as desperate to fuck you. Look,”

You do look, very gladly at that. He adds a second finger the moment your eyes fall on the wet patch of his bottoms. He’s rutting against nothing, all the while scissoring his fingers inside you - and from the look he gives you, you know he’s imagining what it's like to be inside you.

“Fred!” you gasp, rocking faster until your legs start to jerk and twitch. You don’t want to come yet, want to savor the way Fred’s fucking you with nothing but two fingers and it’s better than any sex you’ve had.

Your arousal pools between his fingers, dripping down his bracelet adorned wrist, all the way down to his veiny forearms. It’s a sight for sore eyes, Fred watches in a trance, gaze half lidded. You can see his cock twitch in his pants and he moans, “Fucking hell babe, look at the mess you’ve made.”

His thumb presses against your center with his two other fingers working, and he roughly drags it over to your clit to press. He’s licking again, slurping noises mixing with the pats of his tongue quickly dragging across your pussy.

That does it. Whining, and with quick breaths you hurtle towards such an intense orgasm that you swear you see Santa himself and his jingle fucking bells. It’s sudden and weakening, you barely register. Fred’s there all the while, desperately licking every drop of his hard work until there’s nothing. He groans and moans, like he’s having his thanksgiving now.

He’s not like a starved man, or any other cliche line you can think of. No, it’s like he has made a deal with the devil and is captured by the dark vitality of greed. He can’t stop, and merlin, do you not want him to.

“That was,” you breathe, taking a seat on his thigh when he allows.“That was the best orgasm I’ve had.”

“And that was the most gorgeous sight I have ever seen.” Fred smiles, it slowly turns into a smirk. The cocky bastard is way too proud of himself. He should be though, it’s been a while since you’ve had sex - if it always felt like this you would have never stopped.

But you know it never feels this good. No, it’s because of Fred. It’s him, and how much you love him, and how attractive he is - how skilled, amazing, passionate of a man he is. He’s perfect and way out of your league but you don’t care because he’s finally yours.

Said man is breaking out in a sappy grin, kissing your lips sweetly to whisper against them. “Get used to it.” He kisses you again. “I’m going to make you come again, and again, and again until you can’t walk.” he’s lowering you down onto your back, hands caressing your thighs.

“Really?”

“Especially now that I know how sweet and tight you are,“ Fred runs a finger through your pussy and you whimper. “How amazing you smell,” he dips down to lazily suck a hickey on your collarbone. “How soft your skin is,” his hands are lifting your waist up to unhook your bra. “How much I’m in love with you.”

Your gaze softens, and you let him undress you, bra after shirt until you’re left bare beneath. He shivers, his eyes are darting everywhere, to the curve of your hips, up your stomach - and finally, the slope of your breasts. He sucks in a breath. “You,” he rasps. “You had this bikini, that summer.”

“Wha- which one?”

“The white one.”

Your eyes widen. “Oh.”

“We all loved that bikini, especially the days when the lake was particularly cold. Your nipples would be crystal fucking clear.”

You should feel embarrassed, fuck you really should but you knew what you were doing when you bought that bikini. That doesn’t stop you from acting clueless though, “Fred you big oa - oh!”

Fred dips to suck on your nipples, mouth wide open and hungry. “From that day onward, I fucking knew your tits were amazing.” he groans, gazing at them for a moment. “ Shit, was I right.”

You feel his clothed cock rub against you as he speaks - and it finally becomes a problem.

“A-ah, Fred. Clothes,” you barely gesture, though Fred understands you quickly. Sitting back on his heels, he swiftly removes his hoodie overhead.

Of course he isn’t wearing anything underneath.

Of course he has abs.

You curse under your breath - Fred’s chest is well defined, as you expected it to be. Well toned pecs, pert nipples hard and on display, golden skin stretching over his abdomen and six pairs of muscles you’d like to mark. He’s lean yet buff, corded well with muscle and now you know where those enthusiastic years of Quidditch have gone into

You reach for his arm, Fred quickly obliges and lets you guide his palm flat on your body. You breathe heavily - you love how you're he’s feeling you up like this. His hand lands on your breast, and he gives it a rough squeeze before rolling off the bed to get out of his bottoms.

“Are you trying to kill me, doing that? Huh?” he rasps, stumbling slightly. He swings his socks somewhere and gets back on the bed. “Is that what you want?”

When you don’t respond, he chuckles. Slowly, he pushes down his boxer briefs. It’s teasing, this motion. But then again, everything about Fred Weasley is.

His cock slaps against his abdomen - that’s how big it is. You feel yourself salivate, pupils expanding at the thought of such a thick, attractive cock inside you. You almost jump forward and sit on it but when you see the angry red color of his cock, the twitching of his head and the pre-cum that drips, it becomes clear how much he has been holding back.

Fred grips his cock and the head gushes slightly, you feel your cunt flutter. “Come here.”

You let him grip your body and settle you on his lap, entrance inches away from the head of his cock. You’re making eye contact, it’s almost intimidating how intense his gaze is. On your heat, breasts and fucked out face. “Merlin, I’ve been dreaming about this for fucking years. Let me,” he breathes. “I should just take a picture and stare at it all day.”

“Why take a picture when you have the real thing.” you smirk slightly.

Fred groans, “Ohh, you’re such a good girl.”

You smile, “Freddie, please get a condom. Flattery won’t get you that far.”

“Damn it.” he smiles jokingly, reaching for your night stand.

“Wait, shit.” you get off his lap and down your bed, legs wobbling a bit as you stride towards your dresser with hurried steps. Fred whines when you leave but you pay him no mind. “Been a while, here.”

Grabbing the pack, you stumble back on the bed and sit on your knees.

“Well, what are you waiting for?” Fred nods his head. “Put it on, baby.”

You rip the packet open and slowly roll it on him, his cock is already wet and glistening enough for it to be quick. Your center pulses with want as you do this.

Fred pushes you down and crawls on top, centering his cock with your entrance. “No more,” he grunts. “Gotta have you now.”

Gasping, you feel him rub against you. He continues to tease, until the tip of his cock finally pushes past.

You cry out and glance down at where his cock bulges, it’s a type of pain you’d love to feel everyday. “A-ah Fred!”

“I know baby,” he whines, pushing further in with a quick thrust. He strokes slowly to work you open. You cry out, arousal gushing out.

“Such a sweet pussy, taking all my cock so well.” he kisses your jaw, feathering his lips around your throat and lazily sucking. “Feel so good.”

It’s true, it feels so fucking good that you can’t hold in your moans anymore. Not that you were trying to, but the desire to chant his name becomes reality when he rolls his hips against your center. He’s so close to bottoming out and the woozy cloud floating in your head grows. “Oh my god, don’t want you to stop.”

The stretch feels so good that you can’t help but clench around him, pain jerking your hips up.

Fred's balls deep in, his chest heaves and his eyes squeeze shut for a moment. He pauses, letting the two of you adjust to the euphoric feeling of his cock inside. ”Why the fuck would I wan’t to stop?” Your insides are throbbing, and you find yourself arching your back every time he gives you a sweet kiss on your chest. “Why would I ever stop. Shit, baby, I love you.”

“I love you too - oh!”

Fred withdraws, then slams into you with such vigour that you scream. Another shameful flow of your juices gush out as pleasure rips through you. He continues this, another harsh thrust into your cunt that makes you arch in pleasure. “Freddie!”

“Just like that.” he grunts, rolling his hips. “Love when you call me that.”

His hand hooks your leg around his waist, and he speeds up his motion, soothing the needy ache you feel.

lt’s dizzying, how good he can make you feel. Like you’re the center of the universe and all that matters is Fred fucking you open with sweet, yet untetheredly rough thrusts. It’s scary how lost you can get in him, and it becomes haunted when he captures your lips in a kiss and lifts your leg up on his shoulder.

“You’re so tight, oh fucking hell. Look at you, my goodness you’re absolutely perfect.” he murmurs against your lips, muting your moans.

“Fred! Oh god - ah!”

Your cries egg him on, he’s ruthless with the way his fingers dig in your ass to slam into you faster. The angle, his thick cock, how he’s biting down on your lower lip, you can barely take in. You feel helplessly at his mercy, and soon he’s fucking you too hard to keep kissing. “Easy, baby,” he coos when you squirm underneath him. “I’ve got you - my sweet little flower. Feel good?”

The question itself is clearly hysterical, your pleasure is etched on to your face and your thighs quiver underneath him. His mouth hangs open, eyes droopy, yet he still wears that infuriatingly attractive smirk. “Yes! Feel so good - ah you cocky bastar - umpfh!”

He drapes your other leg over his shoulder, your breasts bounce as his thrust turns more languid. Your back arches, mouth hanging open. “Oh my god - Fred!”

It feels so fucking good like this, so deep and good and - fuck, everything else other than him becomes a distant memory.

“Ahh - shit baby. Doing so good,” he grunts, his moans turn more high pitched when you meet his thrusts halfways. “Drown me baby, my flower takes me so well,”

Fred’s hand curls around the mattress as his other grips your thigh. He slams into you, stretching you out so good that your orgasm builds rapidly within. With your legs draped over his shoulder, he bends forward further until he’s sucking in your chest and leaving red marks. “OH - Freddie,” you whine, clawing at his back.

“That’s it my love,” he croons, head thrown back yet still adamant on watching you. His hands tangle in your hair, carding through and gripping them hard. “Come on my cock - make a mess of your sheets. Doing so well for me, wanna feel you clench around me.”

His face contorts in pleasure when your cunt does clench, hair draping over his eyes to cover his glazed, blown out pupils. Fred reaches between your legs to sweetly thumb your clit, squeezing it between two fingers and it’s the final straw until you break.

You arch in pleasure, shuddering violently underneath him. Fred’s letting you ride it out, finally gasping and his hands clench around your thigh and the mattress. Your hand finds his, interlacing your fingers together as you messily grind your hips and finally come down. Ropes of hot cum fill the condom around your sensitive walls. You tighten, aching a little from the warmth that you can’t feel directly from the plastic barrier.

Fred collapses on top with panting breaths. His head rests in the crook of your neck, arms wrapped tightly around your waist.

“Well shit.”

“Yeah.” you chuckle breathily. The post orgasm clarity makes you realize; fuck, I love this man way more than I let on. You suddenly feel the need to show him, and yet you settle for tenderly brushing his hair back when he lifts his head.

Fred smiles, grin lazy and sappy. After pecking your lips, he slowly pulls out. You whine from the sudden coldness when he rolls out of your arms, then he grins at your noise of distress.

“Hold on love, be right back.” Fred pulls off his condom, ties the top and tosses it to the trash before collapsing next to you - way more dramatically. His arm drapes over you, pulling you to his chest and pressing a kiss on your forehead. “I love you.”

You sigh, content. “Love you too,” you smirk. “Would love you more if you cleaned me up.”

Fred’s eyes flash dangerously. “Oh?”

“Not like that you idiot!” you smile, gently slapping his chest. “Swish your wand or something, I don’t wanna get up.”

“Hm,” he taps his chin. “Give me a tour of your apartment and I’ll think about it.”

You sigh, propping yourself on your arms. Fred whines and tries to pull you back in but you don’t relent. “Alright alright.”

Rolling off the bed, you rush to the bathroom, ignoring the pulsing soreness in your core. “Wha - come back! What about my tour?” Fred yells after you.

You laugh at his eagerness. “You’re not getting it!”

After cleaning yourself up, you practically hurl yourself in his arms. Fred catches you with something between a grunt and a chuckle, leaning against the headboard and letting you rest your head on his chest. Your eyes lull around, begging to give into your exhaustion. “Close your eyes, flower,” he whispers sweetly, gently running his hands across your hair and massaging your scalp.

The snowstorm outside has gotten intense, the wind howls against your sealed windows yet the world feels much brighter from this morning. It’s hard to focus on anything besides the way your heart flutters, and the feel of Fred beneath you. Snuggling closer, his fingers gently trace around your shoulders.

“Freddie?” you murmur, cheek pressed against his chest.

He hums in response.

“You’re staying over, right?”

Fred peers down at you, his brows are etched together and the concern on his face nearly makes you sob. “Do…do you not want me to?” he answers shakily.

You let out a breath. “Of course I want you to!”

“Good.” he smiles, letting out a bigger breath than you. For a moment, you think you broke the man. “Because you’re not getting rid of me anytime soon.”

[captains-simp]

hiii can you please do a 1) Angst with Nat where shes the one saying 'please dont go' because she pushed u away out of fear of either unreciprocated feelings or fear of her feelings for u?? and then there's a happy ending???

"Please don't go."

Warnings: oral, fingering, thigh grinding, hints at overstimulation, rejection, violence and some majorrrr angst

6.8k words

[ masterlist ]

Buy me a coffee ☕

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Natasha Romanoff was the thing of many people's nightmares. Cunning, stealthy, ruthless. Those were just a few of the things that came to mind when describing Natasha in the field. It was what had earned her the Black Widow name, and rightfully so.

But behind that front was someone very different. It took a long time to find that person. It was hard to gain the trust of an assassin, much less the friendship. You had gotten there eventually, what you found was entirely worth every second of the wait.

Natasha had been your closest friend for as long as you could remember. You trusted her above everyone else and knew the feeling was mutual. A lot of things were with you two.

You came to the same conclusions in missions, spare of the moment and planned. You knew the best ways to comfort one another. You could even read each other like your favourite book when it was impossible for others.

It seemed almost predictable that your feelings for Natasha had been growing for a long time.

She was fiercely protective of the ones she loved. The relationships she developed were ones she held close to her heart and would do anything for. She never said it because she didn't have to.

While not being one for comforting words, Natasha would appear at your side in an instant if she thought you had been hurt in a mission or even training. Everything from checking in on you genuinely from time to time to let you rant about whatever was going on in your head to memorising your order from every kind of take out place made you feel cared for more than she could ever understand.

Maybe that was why you had fallen inlove with her.

"You are single handedly the best partner I have ever had." Natasha sighed as she laid back on her bed with her eyes trained on you. Oh how you wished she meant that in a different context.

"Likewise." You grinned as you poured some more wine into your glass and took a tentative sip.

"You usually work on a team." Natasha pointed out. "You haven't had your fair share of God awful partners yet."

"I can still recognise a good partner." You reminded and glanced down at the glass resting on your crossed legs.

Saying Natasha was good was the understatement of the year. No matter what she seemed to think the redhead was the reason for your success on the mission. All you had done was follow her instructions and reenact everything you had trained.

"Still, that was one of the best missions I've ever been on."

"You make it sound like you enjoyed it." You teased.

"I love my job." Natasha smirked as she took her glass from the bedside table and swirled the liquid around.

"I bet you do, must be easy when you're one of the best." You complimented more easily with the help of the alcohol.

"I like a challenge every now and then." She said as she sat up and tucked her legs under her. She downed the contents of her glass in a second and went to pour some more. Your eyes widened slightly but you accepted when she held the bottle out for you and poured a little more than you would have, finishing the bottle.

"You can challenge yourself in safer ways you know." Even if Natasha was one of the most feared agents on the planet she was still human. You worried about her a lot and tried to voice your opinions on mission files to ensure she did things the safest ways. She was always more set on doing things the most efficient way.

"Like what?" She enquired.

"I don't know, get a hobby." You laughed, hardly joking. A hobby was something everyone on the team needed, there was hardly ever the time.

"A hobby." Nat repeated, playing around with the thought as she said it. "I don't think I have time for that." You hummed understandably. "Do you want one?" She asked as she watched you.

"I barely have time for socialising." You scoffed and sipped on the alcohol.

"You live with us." The redhead pointed out, clearly missing your point.

"For work. When was the last time we had a movie night?" You asked. Natasha thought back to try and pinpoint a date but you kept going. "All of the parties are basically part of the job. Our schedules are all off so we rarely eat dinner together. We never really hang out anymore." You reflected with a pang of sadness.

"We're hanging out now." Natasha pointed out.

"We are." You couldn't help the smile that crept onto your face.

"So let's make the most of it." She said as she reached under her bed to retrieve another bottle. You barely questioned why it was there.

She poured more of the drink into each of your glasses and you clinched them together. You took a sip of yours and Natasha watched you as she raised the glass to her lips then paused for a second.

Her eyes trailed to your lips as you licked them to wipe away the traces of the drink. Your cheeks heated up under her far from subtle gaze and a lazy smirk played across Natasha's lips in her signature way.

It wasn't uncommon for Nat to flirt and tease you, she did it with everyone after all, but that night it seemed like a genuine interest, you just didn't want to fool yourself into thinking that.

You stretched your legs out infront of you simply to do something with yourself as Natasha continued to watch you mirror her position. You were startled when you felt on of her hands grip your calf and pull you up the bed towards her.

She silently took your glass from your hands and placed her glass down on the table with yours.

"What are you doing?" You asked with a smile as you tried to ignore your rapidly beating heart from having her hand on your calf and having the strength to pull you with the one hand just a second ago.

"Making the most of our time together." Natasha said simply as her hand dropped back down to your leg. Her fingers lightly ghosted up your calf again as a small smirk continued to stay on her lips.

You gulped, your mouth suddenly feeling very dry as you watched Natasha's slender fingers wander in a seemingly innocent way.

As if your dumbfounded and blank expression wasn't enough for her, Natasha suddenly sat up more and slowly lifted her leg over yours as she gave you some of the most intense eye contact you had ever experienced and straddled your lap.

You searched her face for anything and all you got was a mischievous smirk; nothing past that, no implication as to what was really happening.

"Cat got your tongue?" She teased as she ran her hands down your bare arms making you visibly shiver.

"I..." You whispered, having no idea what to say in response. Natasha lowered her head to the side of your neck and breathed lightly against the exposed skin, curtsey of the loose bun she had done for you.

"Maybe I should try steal it back." Her lips grazed your sensitive skin as she spoke. All sense escaped you when her lips pressed ever so lightly against your neck.

Her hands moved to your waist to hold you as she planted soft kisses along your neck that started to become less light. Her teeth nipped at your skin making you yelp slightly in surprise. Natasha grinned against you as her hands moved round to your stomach and pushed you down flat on your back on the mattress.

Seeing her straddling your stomach above you with an illegally attractive smirk made something undeniable go straight to your core. You clenched your thighs together subconsciously, not realising how telling the gesture was to Natasha.

She slowly leant down and hovered her face inches above yours as her hands trailed up to your own and pinned them above your head. Your breath was shaky and you just knew your friend could tell from your close proximity.

A million things buzzed around your head. Until you caught sight of an especially bright spec of green in Natasha's eyes and found yourself haulting all your questions. That was when you pushed all of your worries and questions to the side to focus on what was infront of you. Or rather who was ontop of you.

You closed your eyes and lifted your head, finally reciprocating in the way you had wanted to a while. Her lips met yours in an instant and felt even softer against your own than you had ever imagined. Your lips moved in perfect sync that you found yourself getting lost in as well as the taste of Natasha that you thought might stay with you forever.

You gasped and parted your lips when she pinched your inner thigh unexpectedly and was quietened when Natasha's tongue met yours. She sucked on it for a brief moment and grinned into you when she felt you moan.

Her lips left yours and started to kiss across your jaw before you could protest then dipped down to your neck. You tilted your head back to give her further access as you held onto her back and tried to steady your breathing.

While one hand held your waist the other stroked along your bare thigh under your dress. You closed your eyes as you struggled to competly focus on any one of the movements. You especially failed when Nat placed one of her muscular thighs between yours, forcing them apart and pressing down on a sensitive area.

You gasped as you felt her apply pressure to your aching clit with her thigh and bucked your hips against her. She chuckled lowly into your ear and held down your thigh and waist with strength that only feuled your growing arousal.

"Tasha." You moaned when the redhead bit down on your neck. Simultaneously, her hand wandered further up your thigh to explore the wanton part between your legs. She sighed deeply into your neck when her fingers brushed against wet spot on your panties.

You whined lowly when she withdrew her fingers only to flip you onto your front and straddle your back. Her slim fingers held the zip on the back of your dress dress swiftly pulled it down along with the rest of your dress.

Her hands ran along your bare back and she unfastened your bra with ease, throwing it somewhere neither of you cared about. She brought her hands back to you and caressed the exposed skin on your sides and leant down flat against you as her hands cupped your breasts. She kissed your shoulder blades as she started to pinch your strained buds. As much as you enjoyed the way she handled you, you needed attention lower down and was becoming impatient, resorting to rocking yourself against the bed in search of something.

"You're a needy thing, aren't you?" She husked, noticing your actions in an instant.

You whimpered into the bed and was suddenly moved onto your back again and stared up at the redheaded beauty who was taking in the sight of your bare breasts.

"You've got me all worked up too, baby." She said as she pulled her own dress down and flung it across the room. Unlike you, she wasn't wearing a bra under her dress giving you the sight of her perfect set. Your own eyes lowered and your breath hitched at the sight of her bare pussy. For a moment you questioned if she had it all planned, but she was straddling your face before you could think about it anymore.

She certainly wasn't lying when she said she was worked up, she was soaked.

With a burst of confidence, you grabbed the back of her thighs and lowered herself onto your tongue that swiped through her folds. You hummed at the initial taste that enveloped your senses and sucked momentarily on her throbbing clit.

"Fuck." Natasha moaned as she pulled on some loose strands of your hair. You pushed your tongue into her awaiting cunt as far as you could go and retracted it to repeat the motion, all while your best friend grinded down on your face.

"Such a good mouth." She praised as you focused your tongue on her soaking channel.

You brought one of your hands up and rubbed Natasha's clit with your thumb as your tongue started to increase it's pace. The redhead's inner walls started to clamp down on your muscle and you took this with a new vigor.

It didn't take long for her thighs to tighten around your head and for Natasha to ride out her orgasm in desperation as you eagerly lapped up all of her cum until she got off you.

"Suck." She instructed only slightly breathlessly as she held her fingers infront of your mouth. You opened in an instant and licked up the length of her fingers before taking them in your mouth as you kept your eyes trained on Natasha.

"Good girl." She praised with a smirk when she withdrew her fingers. She straddled one of your thighs as her fingers danced down to where you needed them the most.

Her fingers slipped inside your pussy with ease. They slowly edged further until they curled against your sweet spot that made your head drop back against the bed. Natasha repeated the come here motion everytime her fingers returned but her pace remained slow and teasing.

You whined in protest but was shushed by the redhead when she pressed herself into your thigh. You gasped as you felt her slick along your thigh and the small rotations of her hips to grind herself against you.

As the pace of her hips increased so did her fingers that were returning to you at twice the pace. You moaned together as everytime Natasha's fingers hit your special spot she angled herself to brush her clit up against your muscle.

The Russian started to dig herself deeper against you and her movements became much more frantic. Her fingers became rougher and faster, never failing to make your head spin when she angled them perfectly.

"Fuck, Nat!" You moaned as your bucked your hips up against her hand.

Her movements became less coordinated as she chased her release and consequently managed to extend her fingers deeper within you making your walls clamp down harshly.

"You feel so good against my pussy." Nat moaned until she came undone on your thigh soon followed by you.

She spread her arousal across your thigh as she rode out her orgasm and kept her fingers deep inside you making you squirm under her.

Her eyes were still glazed over when she looked back down at you and saw you unsuccessfully trying to move away. An evil glint appeared in her eyes as a smirk played on her lips and she leaned down to hover over you again.

"Oh, malysh, we are no where near done."

*

You woke up to a stream of sunlight flowing into the bedroom and onto the bed. You instinctively went to shield your eyes and turn over but when you did you noticed the body laying peacefully next to you.

You let your eyes adjust and brain start to kick in until you saw the mess of red hair on the pillow next to you. You smiled widely when the memories of the night before began to come back to you.

You were both laying naked in bed with the duvet barely covering you. Natasha had her back to you so you reached out and gently stroked a finger across her shoulder blades. Her shoulders tensed slightly as she gradually woke up and you were reminded of how much you pushed your bodies to the limit. You were feeling kind of sore too.

"Good morning." You greetee with a tired continuous smile and scooched over closer to her only for her to sit up without looking at you.

"Morning." She replied stiffly. You frowned a little in confusion and glanced over at her alarm clock to see how late it is and go to get up too. You had a team meeting that morning that you definetly couldn't miss.

You didn't really know what to say to her when you were finding your clothes. She didn't say anything either but the silence didn't feel right. Not awkward, just not right.

You kept glancing over at her but she never faced you when she was quickly getting changed into clean clothes.

You looked over at the clock again nervously. Half an hour until the meeting. Need to have a shower, clean clothes, breakfast? No, no time. Talk to Natasha?

You really had no clue what to say to the redhead you had spent the night in and it definelty didn't help that your brain hadn't fully kicked in yet.

"So I'll...see you later then?" Smooth, y/n.

"Yeah." Nat said back as she searched for something in her drawers. You nodded and awkwardly pointed to the door and practically ran towards it. The moment you were on the other side of the door you smacked yourself on forehead and started to think about what to say to your best friend.

*

Throughout the whole of the team meeting Natasha didn't look at you once. Even in the most important meetings she would shoot you a smile every so often or kick you lightly if she knew you weren't paying attention. But she never even acknowledged you in that one.

Granted, the mission brief was one of the most important ones the team had ever had while you had been there. It wasn't for a couple of weeks because an operation like that one required a lot of planning, preparing and paperwork to fill out before it had even started.

It was the single biggest Hydra base there was. It was the heart of all Hydra operations and that meant there was a lot to do. All Hydra agents needed to be captured or killed, all data and information they had needed to be taken and the place needed to be destroyed.

The meeting dragged on for a long time and eventually you were all told to leave and continue as normal until the mission. You planned to walk out with Natasha but she had disappeared before you got the chance.

It was like that for the rest of the day. You never saw your friend and everytime you asked someone where she was she was never where they said. It felt like you were going on a wild goose chase for her between training and eating.

Eventually though, you finally found her in the kitchen late in the evening making herself a peanut butter and jelly sandwich. She saw you approaching and tensed up without you noticing as you nervously approached, practising what had decided to say to her over in your head.

"Hey." You smiled, eyes trailing to the snack she had prepared as you remembered the time you lectured her on doing it wrong and corrected her. She had insisted you couldn't make a peanut butter and jelly sandwich wrong, but always did it your way after that.

"Hi." She said as she cut the sandwich in half and went to make a swift leave.

"I've been looking for you all day." You half laughed as you moved to stand infront of her.

"I've been busy." She replied and went to move around you.

"Yeah." You laughed nervously again as you followed her.

You had never really been one to shoot your shot or make the first move. It was awkward and uncomfortable even if you ended up lucky. You had never wanted to risk screwing everything up.

You could manage the bottled up feelings most of the time. You always chose that over some form of confrontation. Those were just small, passing crushes. Natasha Romanoff was far from that. And given everything that had happened the night before, you were sure you had a chance - more than a chance.

"So last night was great. More than great actually." You corrected as you managed to keep up with her fast strides.

"I'n glad you enjoyed it." She said simply.

"Did...did you?"

"Yes."

"Cool, so um I was thinking- well I was wondering if you would want to go out sometime." You started as you fiddled with your fingers. "I know you're busy so it doesn't have to be right away- or at all of course! Totally up to you, we could just get a drink or a meal." You rambled, going completly off script. You could feel your heart beating rapidly in your chest as you caught sight of Natasha's room. She stayed silent for a while and you started to suspect you should have kept your mouth shut.

"Look, y/n." Oh God. "Last night wasn't...we were drunk." She started.

"No we weren't." You instantly said and winced at your frantic reply. "I mean we were tipsy at the very most." You corrected and hoped it overruled your desperate comment prior.

"Right, but it wasn't anything serious." Oh fuck. "We were just messing around and celebrating." She said slowly as she reached her door and grabbed the handle, clearly wanting to leave the awkward convosation.

"Oh...yeah of course. I knew that." You lied. "I just thought...yeah never mind- sorry." You rambled again and scratched the back of your neck.

"It's alright." She said looking at her door longingly. "See you tomorrow, y/n." She finally said.

"Yeah, goodnight, Nat." You said back and heard the door shut as soon as you turned around.

Fuck!

*

Natasha was a generally very mature person. That meant she could put aside personal differences for her job and move past disagreements and resolve tension for the sake of the friendships she developed and treasured. It seemed that didn't apply to you.

You understood that the redhead would want space for a few days. Time was the best thing you could give to allow yourself to pick up the pieces of your heart to reassemble eventually and for Natasha move past what you said.

A week past and Natasha still avoided you like the plague.

That drastic change was one you had never prepared yourself to adjust to. You had been so confident that Natasha felt the same way, it was the one time you didn't plan for rejection. That made it even harder. One moment you and Natasha were practically joint at the hip and the next you were rarely in the same room.

Everytime she went into a room and saw you there she made some excuse about forgetting something and didn't return. If it was you who arrived in a room she was already in she would mutter something about being busy and having things to do.

That meant Nat started doing things like training in the evenings or early night just to avoid you. It was a miracle if she ate a meal with the others too. Her whole schedule changed drastically.

The others noticed pretty quickly. All of it. Natasha's strange routine was just as clear as her separation from you. No one really wanted to say anything, thinking that any issues you and Natasha had could be solved by yourselves. But with the mission fast approaching and there being no signs of things returning to normal, Steve decided to talk to you.

You knew it was Steve at your door by the softness of his knock. Everyone on the team could determine who was outside their door by their knock, it didn't seem possible but it was your equivalent of knowing which family member was coming up the stairs.

"Come in, Steve." You called as you flicked through Netflix. It was late in the evening and you were trying to unwind before bed but you were still haunted by the memories of screwing up your friendship with Natasha.

"You alright?" He asked as he closed the door and joined you on the bed that sunk a little under his weight.

"Never better." You said sarcastically before smiling a little at him, you knew he meant well.

"What's going on with you and Nat?" He asked. You paused you mindless scrolling through the TV as you felt the pain in your chest return.

"I messed it up, Steve. I messed it all up." You admitted as you started to shake.

"Hey." He comforted as he saw tears form in your eyes. He put his arms around you and let you lean into him and rest you head on his shoulder.

"I don't know how to fix it." You babbled.

"Fix what?"

"Us. I think she hates me."

"Nat could never hate you." He assured making you cry a little harder.

"She won't go near me." You argued

"What happened?" He asked again patiently.

"She knows. She knows I like her." Steve chuckled softly and continued to hold you.

"Y/n we all know. It doesn't take a spy to work it out." You sniffed with a smile and wiped the tears away as you leant away from him to look at the blonde.

"I asked her out." You said.

"That was a brave thing to do." He defended despite clearly knowing how it turned out for you. You decided to leave out the reason you worked up the balls to do it.

"I don't think she thinks so." Steve sighed as he looked at the TV in consideration.

"Maybe, but she will eventually."

"How long will that be?"

"It's hard to say with Nat, but eventually. You could try talk to her again?" He suggested.

"Have you been missing how she avoids me like I'm her worst nightmare." You deadpanned.

"You let her know you care about her a lot, you're not far off." You thought for a moment about how right Steve was. Nat never did like intimacy, but she never had a problem with it if it was you. "And she may be a spy by we have a security room." He pointed out and you smiled again.

"Okay." You agreed. "Tomorrow." You decided, knowing there was a lot higher chance of you actually going through with it if you had already told Steve you would.

"Okay." He smiled back and stood up from the bed and went to leave.

"Have you talked to her?" You suddenly asked.

"Seems like she's avoiding everyone."

*

You surprised even yourself when you found yourself in the security room the next day in the late evening. It didn't take you long to flick through all the cameras and spot Natasha training with the holograms.

You made your way down to her quickly, trying to figure out at least the outline of what you could say to her. Nothing really came to mind when you tried to piece it together.

When you arrived she was focused on throwing an onslaught of punches at a punching bag that honestly looked like it was on the verge of being torn in half. It made you strongly consider backing out when you saw her like that. You just hoped that state of mind wouldn't come across in your convosation.

"Hey." You croaked making the redhead spin around with her guard still up. "Sorry! I didn't mean to scare you." You assured as you took a tentative step towards her.

"You didn't scare me." She defied, annoyance present in her voice.

"I guess if you can be pranked by Clint that many times and not be scared nothing will scare you." You joked in a futile attempt to lighten the mood. It didn't work.

The redhead stayed silent as she adjusted the straps on her gloves. You thought she would pack up her things and leave but she went back to the punching bag and blanked you.

"Are you gonna ignore me forever?" You sighed. She paused her punches for a second before turning to look at you for the first time in over a week.

"I'm not ignoring you."

"We haven't talked in a while." You said, choosing not to argue over the fact that yes she definetly had been ignoring you.

"I've been busy." Her expression was stoic as she looked at you and it made you uncomfortable.

"I'm sorry for making things weird. But we can move past it. I can so you definitely should. Just because you don't want to date me doesn't mean you get to treat me like this, it's not fair on me and its not fair on the team." You breathed deeply when you finished and averted your eyes as you grew more uncomfortable from the confrontation.

"That's just the thing, y/n." Natasha said as she started to take her gloves off. "You're not going to move past it. I know you, and I know you're not going to be over it in a week." You frowned at her blunt response and took a few more steps towards her.

"Get over yourself, Nat." You sighed in frustration. "It's not like I declared that I was inlove with you. And don't forget that you came onto me that night."

"Exactly, y/n. It was one fucking night. It didn't mean anything but you decided to make a big deal out of it." You struggled to push aside the ache that came from her words and the bitter way she delivered them.

"You're never intimate with anyone. So yes when you fucked me and let me fuck you I thought there might be something more to it. It's not a crime to want something more."

Nat's jaw clenched at your words. You had brought in something personal about her and she was inevitably about to put up her walls in the most hurtful way she could. You knew that, but it didn't help you prepare.

"Why can't you accept that you were just a good fuck?" She spat as she glared at you. "Definitely one that I regret." You gulped as you took in the harsh reality of her words.

"Regret?" You whispered.

"Yes, y/n. I regret it. It was a mistake, every fucking bit of it." A mistake?

You didn't say anything in response to that. You were sure that even if you could think of something it would just come out as a squeak. Nat continued to glare at you in a way you couldn't hold. You glanced down at the floor, then the walls, then the punching pad and nodded quickly. You turned around and wandered aimlessly out the room as tears fell silently down your cheeks.

*

Needless to say things didn't get any better after that encounter. The only difference was that you were mutually avoiding each other. It hurt. A lot. You never thought you would avoid Natasha like you were. You never thought she would break your heart either.

The day of the mission didn't change anything. You and Natasha were sat as far away from each other as possible.

Only the anxiety over the mission was able to overpower the tension in the plane.

Steve had gone over the brief once more in full detail on the plane and you replayed all the information in your head until you landed. Once the quinjet had engaged its cloaking tech it landed in an open area in the surrounding forest.

You all left the quinjet in a concentrated silence as you surveyed your surroundings. It didn't take long to find the first patrolling agents in the forest that were swiftly taken out as to not alert anyone else.

The whole team was scattered across the forest from four planes in a circular layout that advanced towards the Hydra base. Even some of the best S.H.I.E.L.D agents had been brought in to assist. Steve was the first to infiltrate the base and in the least subtle way. You could hear the glass smashing and loud grunts in your coms that made you wish, not for the first time, that you could adjust the volume on those things.

You knew your route. You had it memorized clearly in your head and you also knew that some of it overlapped with Natasha's. You spotted her in your peripheral as you turned a corner to shoot at two charging agents. You leant back against the wall to reload and glanced to your left to see Natasha advancing. Stay focused. You reminded yourself.

You took a quick glance behind the corner again before looking back at Natasha who had her gun raised at you with a flightly fearing expression. Your eyes widened and you went to shout at her to stop messing around but she had already fired the gun. You heard a loud grunt and a body collapse to the floor tight behind you. You swivelled around to see a Hydra agent laying in a pool of his own blood with a handgun next to him.

"Thanks." You breathed out and started around the corner. Natasha had to take another left to the supposed data room where she could collect as much as much as could. You had to keep going but felt the sudden urge to ensure that she was safe. You looked over your shoulder as she opened the door and fired two shots before swiftly entering the room with her gun still raised.

You listened out for any more shots and heard none. She's fine. She knows what she's doing. You assured yourself as you went on.

Half an hour later the building had been cleared of all Hydra agents. Many had been captured and were had many hours of interrogation ahead of them while others hadn't been so lucky. It always weighed on you for a while when you killed as many people as you did on that mission. It was hard but it was necessary. It was the job.

The price of freedom is high. You reminded yourself. The price of freedom is high. The price of freedom is h- "Agent Romanoff is down."

"What?!" You spun around to face the building to see the room Natasha was in. It was in the center of the left side because of course you remembered exactly where she was meant to be.

You instinctively started sprinting back to the building when there was a sudden bright orange and yellow light followed by a deafening boom from the exact room Natasha was meant to be in. The explosion was quick but you got a chance to get an estimate of the scale of it and if Natasha was still in there...oh God.

"Has anyone got eyes on Romanoff?!" You demanded as you stared up at the building, finding yourself rooted to the spot.

"I got her." Steve coughed painfully. "I need a medic." He announced as he ran through the building and out the nearest exit with Natasha unconscious in his arms.

Everything else faded into the background when you saw her. The building still needed to be destroyed but you couldn't care less about the mission.

You stayed at Steve's side as he carried the readhead to the plane and laid her down gently on the bench. A medic was already there waiting and was checking Nat's vitals in an instant.

You dropped down to your knees next to her and watched her face for any signs of consciousness. When you couldn't find any you gently took ahold of her hand and laced your fingers together. You took a great deal of comfort in how warm they were and how warm you were determined for them to remain. You would kill Nat if she died on you.

Yes, she had hurt you. But you were pretty sure you were inlove with her.

You didn't let go of Natasha's hand for a long time. You held onto it tightly throughout the entirety of the flight home. You kept your fingers laced together when she was being taken to the medical wing. You held her hand for a while when they had finally settled her into a bed. She looked so peaceful in that state, you hoped it felt like that for her. She was still so beautiful too, even when she had dirt and smoke all over her before you had cleaned it all off.

You only let go when Steve practically dragged you out of the room to get some proper sleep in your bed.

You had been assured by multiple people that Natasha would be fine.

She had already been unconcious when Steve found her and was able to get her out the room before the bomb went off. It still had an impact and threw them both against a wall, but they were okay. She was okay.

You visited the redhead often but never stayed for long. As much as you wanted to, you knew she wouldn't want you there when she woke up. She had made it clear before that you had lost what you had with her, you were sure the mission hadn't changed that.

One day when you approached her room you peered around the door and saw that she was already sat up and looking around. She spotted you at the door instantly.

"Sorry." You apologised and went make a swift leave but stopped in your tracks when she spoke.

"Please don't go." She called out. You slowly turned around to face her and saw a pleading look across her face that you had never seen in her before.

You hesitated for a moment until you timidly made your way to the chair next to her bed. She watched you do so silently and anxiously, like she expected you to run out any second. You honestly thought about it, thinking another lecture was coming.

"You've been out a few days." You told her without meeting her eyes. "I was worried." You mentally scolded yourself for saying it as soon as you did, thinking that wasn't what she wanted to hear.

"I'm sorry." She surprised you by saying.

"It's not your fault, you didn't throw the bomb at yourself." You smiled nervously.

"Not about that." Nat said quietly. "About everything else. I treated you so badly." The regret couldn't have been more clear in her voice. "I was just scared- and that's not an excuse! It's just the truth." She explained nervously. You listened intently as you stared at her duvet.

"I lied when I said it was a mistake. I lied when I said I regretted it. I lied when I said it didn't mean anything. It meant everything to me, y/n." She explained wholeheartedly as tears started to form in her eyes.

For a moment you couldn't quite comprehend what you're seeing or hearing. Natasha was letting down her walls competly. She was being vulnerable to you.

"I care about you so much. More than I've ever let myself care about anyone. I pushed it aside and tried to ignore it for the longest time but that night I caved and I...I don't know I wasn't thinking about anything other than how much I wanted to show you I cared for you. And when I thought I finally figured out a way to do it I couldn't face it after.

"You never did anything wrong, y/n. It was all me. I couldn't face my feelings but I can't stand not being with you. Is there..." She gulped as her hands trembled notably. "Is there any possibility of a second chance?" She whispered almost fearfully. You finally looked up at her and saw the tears running down her cheeks as she gazed at you like you were the only thing of any importance in the world.

You took her shaking hand in both of yours to steady it and yourself as you spoke. "No more running off?" You asked.

"No more running off." She confirmed.

"No more lying to me?"

"No more lying."

"No more being a pussy." You half joked.

"Definelty no more being a pussy." She laughed weakly.

"Okay then. Natasha, would you like to go on a date with me?" You asked with a smile you couldn't hold back.

"It would be my pleasure, y/n." You grinned and leaned forward to plant a soft kiss on her lips as you kept ahold of her hands. She smiled against you and when you moved back you saw the glint of happiness in her eyes.

Sure, you had done things in the completly wrong order. And yes, the journey to get there had been far from easy. But you swore that day that you would make sure everything after it was done perfectly.

It was a few weeks later on the night you shared your first 'I love you' that she confessed she had sworn the same thing. And it worked.

[engie-ivy]

Orion Black offers Remus more money than he could've dreamed of. The only condition? Stay away from his son.

(This got way fluffier than I anticipated towards the end)

A slow smile spreads across Orion Black’s face as he writes something down on a piece of paper, and slides it over the broad, wooden desk towards Remus. “Read the number on that paper,” he says confidently. “And tell me again how much you love him.”

To Put a Price On Love

“How much?”

Remus hardly dares to move under the intensity of Orion Black’s scrutinizing gaze. The man is sitting behind his polished wooden writing desk, one large hand holding a pen hovering above some sort of notebook.

Remus is visiting the Black Manor for a couple of days, finally meeting his boyfriend’s family. Much to Remus’ dismay, his boyfriend had been reluctant to take him home, but after some insisting on Remus’ part, he finally agreed. After the first day of staying at the posh manor, Remus had changed his goal of making his boyfriend’s parents like him, to making his boyfriend’s parents not kill him in his sleep.

Orion and Walburga Black are stiff, formal and standoffish people. Their noses are constantly scrunched up in distaste, and their lips pressed in a thin line. They hardly say a word to Remus, and Remus hasn’t once seen them smile. He honestly can’t even imagine it. Where his boyfriend’s silver grey eyes are bright and sparkling with vibrant energy, Walburga Black’s eyes are cold and empty, while Orion Black’s gaze is hard as steel.

That gaze is now intently fixed on Remus, and Remus feels like he’s being weighed and found wanting.

To say he was wary when Orion Black suddenly placed a large hand on his shoulder and asked him, no, commanded him, to come to his study, would be an understatement.

“Ex- excuse me?” Remus stammers.

“What amount do I need to write down to get you to stay away from my son?” Orion Black says slowly.

Remus glances down at the notebook, that he sees is, indeed, a check book, and back up at Orion Black’s face. “I... I think there’s some kind of misunderstanding.”

“I’ve been here before, Lupin, was it?” Orion Black says, with a hint of impatience in his voice. “Everyone has a price, so why don’t you save us both the time, and tell me yours?”

“That’s not... I’m not...” Remus sputters. “I love your son!”

Orion Black smiles wryly at him. “So did many of the others. But as the number got higher, they realised they didn’t love him quite so much after all.”

Remus feels a wave of anger course through his body. He hasn’t even told Sirius he loves him yet. How dare this man just brush off his feelings like that!

“Look,” Remus says. “If you don’t approve of me for your son, then I suppose there’s little I can do about that, but you cannot make a situation go your way just by throwing some money at it!”

“That’s where you’re wrong, boy,” Orion Black says sharply. “Let me give you a free lesson here. There’s nothing money can’t buy, as long as you have enough of it. As the amount I’m offering increases, this so-called ‘love’ will decrease. You don’t have to like it, but that’s just how the world works.”

“Why is it worth so much to you?” Remus asks. “Have I somehow offended you?”

Orion Black lets out a humourless laugh, that doesn’t make his eyes look any less like ice cold steel. “Believe me, boy. If you had offended me, I would’ve used a different way than paying you to get rid of you.”

It’s a threat, and a barely veiled one. Remus feels a chill creep up his spine.

“No,” Orion Black continues undisturbed. “It has nothing to do with you personally.” He sighs. “If Sirius wants to be rebellious and... have relations with the occasional boy, then so be it, but I’ll make sure his provocative behaviour won’t go too far by timely dissolving these delusional attachments. Whatever Sirius has to get out of his system, in the end he shall marry Druella Rosier, as has been promised.”

“That’s ridiculous!” Remus exclaims. “You’d bully your son into a marriage that’ll make him miserable?” Remus shakes his head. “I want no part in this.”

A slow smile spreads across Orion Black’s face as he writes something down on a piece of paper, and slides it over the broad, wooden desk towards Remus. “Read the number on that paper,” he says confidently. “And tell me again how much you love him.”

Remus glances down at the paper, and gasps.

“So, how much did he offer you?”

Sirius is standing in the doorway of the guestroom, leaning against the doorframe, arms folded over his chest. He’s watching Remus pack his bags with an expressionless face.

Remus doesn’t look up from his attempt to stuff his jumpers in the bag. “Hundred thousand.”

Sirius whistles through his teeth. “That’s a new record! What did you do? Did you tell him you love me? That always seems to drive up the price a bit.”

“I did,” Remus replies flatly, still not looking up from his packing.

“Fabian did too, but still, he only managed to get to sixty thousand,” Sirius says. “Gilderoy tried to play the ‘but I love him!’-card, but he was so insincere, even my father wasn’t fooled.” He lets out a bitter laugh. “I guess you don’t have much of a negotiating position when your eyes light up with greed the moment you see a check book. Caradoc never claimed to love me. I think I preferred that most,” he adds pensively. “He never pretended we were something we weren’t. Just took the money and left. But then again, I don’t think he even got to twenty thousand,” he finishes with a shrug.

Remus just looks at him for a while, before turning back to his packing.

Sirius follows his movements. “Hey, that’s mine!” He exclaims when Remus picks up a leather jacket and puts it in one of the bags. When Remus doesn’t respond and proceeds to fold up Sirius’ old band t-shirts, Sirius grabs his arm, forcing Remus to look at him. “What are you doing?!”

“I’m leaving!” Remus shouts angrily. “And I’m taking you with me! I won’t allow you to stay with these people who won’t let you be who you are, and who think they can force you into a marriage you don’t want by bribing the people you care about to abandon you!” He takes a deep breath. “Besides,” he adds dryly. “I doubt your father will let me stay in his house after telling him to shove his check book up his arse.”

“But why would you...” Sirius shakes his head. “What’s going on, Remus? Please, I need you to explain.”

Remus’ expression softens upon seeing Sirius’ wide eyes, filled with a mixture of hope and disbelief. “I didn’t take his money, Sirius,” Remus says softly. “I meant it when I told him I love you, and no amount of money will be worth losing you over.”

Sirius’ eyes frantically search Remus’ face, and he seems to find some sort of confirmation there, because the next moment, he flings himself at Remus. He clutches to him and presses his face in his hair. “I wanted to believe... I wanted to trust... I wanted to think that you’d never.. But I’ve been disappointed so many times before. I started to think I just wasn’t...”

“You’re worth it, Sirius,” Remus whispers. “You’re worth a thousand times more than any amount of money. They’re all idiots. Everyone who chose money over you. And you know what? I’m glad for it, because now I get to have you.”

“You have me, Remus. You do.” Sirius pulls away slightly, so he can look Remus in the eyes, while tears are shining on his cheeks.

Remus brushes the tears away with his thumb and smiles. “So, are you ready to leave your luxurious manor with servants on your beck and call, to come live with me in a cramped flat with no idea how we’re going to pay rent next month?”

Sirius smiles back. “I’ve never been more ready for anything.”

[folkloreguk]

Moving Antics (M)

A/N: This was requested a while ago and I hope you will enjoy it! I always welcome feedback of any kind! Have a good day x

genre: smut, optional bias (m) x reader (f), oral (m receiving), unprotected sex, overstimulation (a tiny bit), dom!bias, very lowkey roleplaying??, reader wears a maid outfit (not in a degrading way)

words: ~ 5.4 k

tag list: @mochi-ficz (let me know if you wanna be tagged when I post new fics!)

People had told you over and over. Moving is a stressful, exhausting process. It would take a while for you to settle in. Until everything had found its perfect place, weeks could pass. At least that’s what everybody said. What they all failed to understand, though, was that being in love could make the most tiring experience fun. Was it stressful? Sometimes. Exhausting? Why don’t you ask yourself that, when you fell into bed like a walking corpse at night? But all it took was a glimpse at your boyfriend as he carried inside the box that said ‘anniversary gifts’ and it was all worth it. You were confident in one thing at least. In the settling in department you were both ranking foremost.

You had lived in the apartment for only a week, and you couldn’t have been more all-over-each-other. Somehow there seemed to be an unspoken challenge you had both taken on. Maybe you two could set a record for most surfaces in a flat someone could have sex on. Or perhaps you should have started marking the rooms and spaces you hadn’t been able to add to your list yet. There wouldn’t have been many left. At the moment, there was only one downside to being so head-over-heels in love. A lot of the boxes in the apartment had been left unattended, as if you only waited long enough, the things would start flying out of the cartons and miraculously sort themselves out while you could stay there, in bed with your lover between your legs.

But this wasn’t Hogwarts and you weren’t some magician. And so one rainy Saturday noon you decided it would be thatday. The day you finally put away all the things that were still in the boxes. Not that the day had been successful so far. It was 12 pm and you were in bed. The shower was running in the bathroom next door, and you wondered how you would convince your boyfriend and yourself that getting things done would be a worthwhile pastime. Telling yourself you would come up with a tactic with your eyes closed, you tricked yourself into daydreaming for a little while longer, cuddled in the blankets that still smelled like him.

When you heard footsteps approach, your mind snapped back to reality. He strut through the door like a nude model, searching for some clothes to wear. His smirk when he saw you eye him was prominent and made your stomach flip. It took every last will of yours to not ask him to come back into bed with you, forget all your earlier plans and live like you were the last people on earth.

“Do you want breakfast?” he asked, finishing his outfit by pulling a shirt over his head. “I’ll make you some.”

You hummed, starry-eyed at his perfection. “Thank you,” you said. Quickly, he kissed your forehead and then walked off, presumably in the direction of the kitchen. Twenty minutes later, at the kitchen table, you finally brought up your wonderful idea.

“I think we really should unpack some more stuff today,” you said, “Don’t you think?”

“You’re right,” he said, “We’ve really been procrastinating.”

“You can say that again,” you laughed.

“Although I wouldn’t describe our scientific research of the last few days as completely pointless.”

“Our what?” you asked. You were getting up to put away the plates of your late breakfast.

“Us testing which room of the house is the most fun to have sex in,” he stated, matter of fact. “I vote for the bathroom.”

“You just love the mirrors,” you grinned, and he mirrored it.

“I do,” he said. His arms snuck around your waist from behind. “Almost as much as I love you.”

“I love you too, babe,” you said, “You know, there’s one room we haven’t tried yet.”

“The office,” he said. You turned your head and you kissed him deeply. In agreement you hummed, your arms wrapping around him. He pulled you closer, hands ghosting over the back of your thighs and up to your hips. You felt like jumping onto the counter and having him there, again, just like you had done it two days ago. But then you remembered you had other projects for the day. If you gave in to him now, you’d end up back in bed for the rest of the day, probably. Guilt was already setting in at the mere thought.

“Wait,” you pulled away and said, “We have things to get done.”

His nod was dilatory but then he seemed to recall his own determination from around two minutes ago. You wished you could have motivated him otherwise, but you were already struggling to spur on yourself to be productive. Then, you suddenly remembered something. Your eyes must have widened in surprise because he furrowed his brows at you.

“What’s wrong?” he asked.

“Stay here,” you announced, “I’ll make sure we get through with this today.”

And you were off to your bedroom. You pulled the box out from the far back of your closet. Memories flashed your mind, of when you and your boyfriend had been watching a show together. One of the characters had been wearing a provocative maid outfit, and you still thought about the way he had grinned at it, or how he had said he found it cute, which you believed translated to sexy, but he had been a little shy back then.

Long story short you bought one. And what better occasion to put it to use than now? You went all out, stockings and heels as well as your attempt at fixing your hair quickly, which you knew didn’t really matter, since you would want it out of the way if you were really going to be emptying boxes. You strut down the hall, catching a glimpse of yourself in the mirror. The black and white costume just about covered your ass, and on your chest was a cutout in the shape of a cat’s head. The ruffles of the material bounced as you walked, excited to see your boyfriend’s reaction.

“Close your eyes!” you shouted. “No cheating!”

“I never cheat,” he said. You rolled your eyes, remembering his video game antics from the past.

“Before you say anything…this is supposed to be a motivation for us to empty the boxes. If we do that, we can have our reward,” you said.

“What reward?” he asked, eyes still shut.

“Open your eyes and you’ll know,” you said. Oh, how dearly you whished you could have captured his face on camera.

“Babe…,” he said. Then his mouth just stayed agape, as he ogled at you shamelessly. Just because he could. Because he was just thatlucky to have you.

“Do you like it?” you asked.

“Yes. Of course I do,” he said. His tone was emotionless because he was way too busy sorting out his own thoughts in his head. “But do you really think this is a good idea? How am I supposed to focus on anything but you?”

“We’ll figure it out,” you said. “Don’t you want to feel accomplished at the end of it all? If we don’t start working now, we’ll just end up feeling guilty. Again. Come on, let’s do this.”

“Alright,” he said. “Let me have one kiss.”

You laughed and granted him that one wish. His lips lingered on yours for a while. You knew he didn’t want to pull away. Neither did you. But at last, he had enough control to remove himself from you. It was the office that still needed the most work to be done. Cardboard boxes were piled on top of each other, labelled with some sort of theme or room of belonging on the outside. When you looked his way, he was only eyeing your legs. But then you grabbed the closest box to you and handed it to your boyfriend, and he snapped out of his trance.

Believe it or not, there were up- and downsides to the maid costume in this situation. The pros included feeling unnecessarily sexy whilst doing an unbelievably humane task, not getting too warm since you were already wearing little clothing and having your boyfriend virtually drooling over your appearance. The downsides were mostly reduced to one word: heels. Climbing a ladder and balancing three boxes on top of each other in your arms was an arduous task to begin with. Now add the possibility of twisting your ankle on the top step of a ladder and crashing to the floor, probably breaking your back or worse. You really couldn’t endanger the prospect of the fun you were planning on having later by taking that risk.

That’s why you chose to abandon the heels somewhere on the floor about half an hour into the process. And you came to the conclusion that finally getting over and done with what you had been procrastinating for the last week wasn’t all that bad. You were a whirlwind, running from room to room to make sure everything had its place. At some point he had turned some music on, and it was making everything even better. After all this time, you finally had your own place to decorate however you desired. As you admired how nicely things were coming together, you hummed to yourself quietly.

You weren’t sure whether he was having as much fun as you were. Especially not when you walked past him in the doorframe, carrying four pillows. Your ass – maybe not all that accidentally – brushed against his front as you entered the room. Innocence and feigned ignorance were on your face but you noticed exactly the way his eyes dwelled on you for a little longer until he got back to work.

But everything you could do he could do just as well. Fifteen minutes later, you were occupied with stacking books onto a shelf. Wanting them to stand in a very specific order turned out to be more time-consuming than you had anticipated. You heard his steps behind you, assuming he was going to walk past you. Suddenly his lips brushed against your exposed neck.

“Remember this song?” he asked. You hadn’t been focused on the music for a while now, but of course you remembered. “Remember when I fucked you to the beat of this? Because I do.”

“Babe,” you said. There was a little part in your brain that had the glorious idea of him having you right there, against the bookshelf. You wouldn’t even need to remove your clothes. With him, it took nothing but a few magic words and you felt like giving him all of you. No. It’s not time for that yet. Your rationality vanquished that little avid thought and pushed it away, back into your unconscious where it had come from. It wasn’t gone yet, only not so urgent anymore.

“You’re right,” he said. “We’ll save that for later. Just wanted to remind you of how much of a good time we can have.”

You only shook your head and grinned as he walked off, pretending to be blissfully unbothered. What goes around, comes around, after all. And you deserved that for pushing up against him earlier. It took a minute and you got back to sorting your book titles. Time passed surprisingly fast when you were being productive. Box after box emptied itself, almost as if your wish for magic powers had become reality. But it was just two people, who were so excited about their reward that they forgot to even take a proper break in between the chaos. And soon you were down to the last cardboard box. It was full of decorations you didn’t need for the current season.

Just a few more climbs up and down the ladder to the very top of the closet and you were done. He stood next to the ladder, handing you the things so you didn’t have to go all the way down each time.

“Last one,” he said, giving you a box with holiday lights. Successfully, you placed it in its new spot. When you finally made eye contact with him, he was already staring at you like you were the only thing in the room worth looking at. To be fair, from where he stood, there wasn’t much left up to his imagination. With your stockings on display, his eyes could probably go all the way up to your garter belt.

“Is this angle too revealing?” you asked.

“Absolutely,” he said, making you laugh. Smirking, he took your hand as you stepped off the ladder. You stumbled into his body as you grinned at each other. You both had the same thing on your mind, without a doubt. It was like a little inside joke you had made up just now, making you flirt through looks and small touches. His hand rubbed the small of your back as he bent to your ear.

“My pretty maid, haven’t you worked enough for the day?” he asked. “All that teasing you did today must have been soexhausting.”

You nodded overly seriously, as if riling up your horny boyfriend was physically tiring work. “I hope I did a good job. Did I?”

“No one else could have done it better,” he said. “Now let me treat you, baby.”

You hummed with your mouth already too close to his to say anything. Then your lips finally crashed onto his. It was a little ridiculous how much you missed his touch after only hours of being without it. People had told you you’d get tired of being with each other all the time. But it had been years and you still wished you could have cuffed his wrist to yours because you loved him just that much.

Your tongues fought playfully as you pushed him against the closet front. Small noises came from both of your mouths, quietly agreeing that this was what you had been waiting for – more or less patiently. Your hands became busy with the buttons of his flannel. When you came across his bare skin underneath instead of a shirt, you smiled into the kiss. Every layer less to remove meant you were one step closer to what you wanted.

“We’ve never done it in here,” you muttered against his hungry lips. “That table looks nice, doesn’t it?”

He grinned. Your hands had already messed up his hair, but nothing came close to his dark eyes in moments like these. His look never failed to make your heart skip a beat while you wondered how you had ended up with the most handsome guy in the world.

“Will you think of us, if you ever sit there and work in the future?” he asked, leading you over to the office table. He dropped his flannel on the ground on the way.

“I always think about us,” you said. “But you can make sure this one stays especially prominent in my memory.”

“There’s nothing I’d rather do,” he said, and kissed you again. Your ass was backed against the edge of the table and one of his legs pushed between your thighs. It made you whimper quietly in anticipation. He touched the little part on your thighs that was bare, playing with your garters. With your eyes closed, his tongue on yours and his hands being so close but so far from where you needed him, your head spun with dizziness. He was like a drug, like alcohol dripping straight from his lips and the more you kissed him, the less control you had over yourself. His attention gave you loose lips and the impulse to be risky, all whilst feeling so high up in the clouds you weren’t sure you’d ever find your way back down. You hissed when he pressed his fingers against your underwear.

“You’ll keep the dress on,” he said. “Will you?”

“Of course,” you obliged. “If that’s what you want.”

“Good girl,” he said, and he pulled aside your panties to slide his finger over the slickness that had formed between your thighs. As if on command, your hips moved closer to his hand as you whimpered at the too gentle friction. All afternoon you had been thinking of his hands on you. When you had watched him peel away the tape from the boxes, when he was taking your hand to help you down from the ladder and when he had run his fingers through his hair absentmindedly – all you could think about was how much you wanted those hands to grab your hips and for him to have his way with you.

“Take these off,” he ordered. His stern but gentle voice turned your insides into mush. It made you behave almost like a robot, no ifs ands or buts. When you usually liked to tease him, you knew not to test your limits when he spoke in this tone. Your underwear dropped to the floor and you kicked it a few meters away. Again, his hands ghosted under your dress and found your center. You felt like your knees would buckle from the way he rubbed small circles on your clit. Moaning quietly, you wrapped your arms around his neck for support, leaning your forehead against his chest for a moment. You let out small huffs and whimpers against his skin and nuzzled especially close to him when he touched that one special spot for a few seconds.

“Look at me.” He watched intently as your eyelids fluttered like your eyes were going to roll to the back of your head. You tried your best.

“Put your hands on the table by your sides,” he said. You hummed in disapproval but didn’t dare say so. After all, he could have also told you to put them on your back. And holding on to a wooden edge was still better than not holding on to anything, when you felt like a child standing on its feet for the first time. When he hooked his free hand under your thigh, lifting up your leg a little, your grip on the table tightened. You swore under your breath when he plunged two of his fingers into you. He curled them, pushing hard against your sweet spot and you curled your back in response.

All day you had gone without any sort of attention, when your head had been so full of things you knew you could do with him. The most release you had gotten – which was basically no release at all – was from pushing your legs together tightly when the dirty thoughts had become too much for your brain to handle. You knew it was your own fault for setting yourself up with this challenge. But now with your chest heaving and your head feeling like a tsunami of emotions was raging inside of it, you didn’t regret it as much as you thought you would two hours ago. Maybe you should play this waiting game more often, instead of jumping onto each other any chance you got.

“You look so hot like this,” he said. At the sound of his voice your eyes opened. Those eyes. While they usually held loyalty and playfulness, they now only spoke of authority. He used his thumb to rub your clit whilst his fingers were still inside of you, making you feel like floating. You were his favorite sight, by far. Above all times he watched you, from waking up in the morning to falling asleep in his arms at night, right now was the most mesmerizing. Your parted lips were the entrance to heaven and the glow in your teary, desperate eyes was putting the evening sun to shame.

“I’m so close,” you moaned. Your chest was alternating between short puffs and not breathing at all. Maybe your brain was too focused on the bliss you were chasing to care about breathing for now. You couldn’t blame yourself.

“Don’t make a mess, baby,” he said.

“No, I won’t,” you said. “Can I touch you when I come, please?”

You gave him your most entreating eyes, knowing that even though he liked telling you what to do in the bedroom, not even the strictest boyfriend was immune to your puppy eyes. You suspected that if he had declined, you might have held on to him anyways. Too overpowering was the clamor inside your head that was telling you to be close to him.

“Only when you’re coming,” he said. “Not a second earlier.”

You nodded obediently as your eyes shut again. Good thing you were mere moments away from just that. His fingers moved quickly, now that he knew how close you were to your high. It robbed your breath all at once. And it did the job, after a short while. You whined and arched your back, your hands flinging around his shoulders. Your little noises came out muffled against his skin as you closed your legs around his hand. He barely moved his fingers anymore, but kept the pressure on your most sensitive spots, making sure you could relish in every last second of your orgasm. Only after a while your grip on him loosened, and you realized how your nails had been digging into his skin.

“Sorry,” you said, rubbing over the moon-shaped marks on his shoulder. “Did I hurt you?”

“No, baby,” he said. When he removed his hand, you shuddered one last time, but missed his touch already. His magic was always working on you. Even when he had just made you come, the mere sight of the bulge in his pants, ready to spring free, made you want to pull him right into your body again.

“You came so fast today,” he said. Softly, he kissed you, but you noticed the hint of hunger that he must had been feeling as you were coming down from your high.

“That’s what you do to me,” you admitted. “Do you think you’re the only one who felt tortured all day long? It was driving me crazy, too.”

“You seemed to have a lot of fun, messing with my head,” he said, smirking.

“You’ll find that it was worth it, after this,” you said. He raised his eyebrows in question. You were already stepping forward, dropping to your knees in front of him. Like a child on Christmas morning, his eyes lit up at the sight of you.

“Aren’t you the prettiest maid?” he asked, the question obviously rhetorical. To him, you were the prettiest person in the whole universe. You tugged on his pants and pulled them down, along with his underwear. Your mouth watered at the sight of his member, hard and red from all the waiting he’d had to endure. The way he looked at you from above made you feel small, but he stroked your hair out of your face gently and you knew this was exactly where you wanted to be right now, and any other day.

“Hands behind your back,” he said. You smiled and did as he said, holding your right wrist with your left hand on your back. He caught on to your reaction right away.

“You don’t even mind, right?” he said. You were already sitting straight, mouth open, your tongue protruding slightly. “You like it when I make it more difficult for you, don’t you?”

You only nodded and hummed a small yes, then he placed the tip of his dick on your tongue. At first, you only closed your mouth around it, not taking more of him. Your tongue licked over the swollen tip almost shyly. He groaned as he watched you test the waters. After all, he was the one who could control what you did to him. For now, however, he seemed to leave you your freedom to do what you felt like. You pressed your tongue flat against the underside of his cock, licking over the tip ever so slowly. Then, you sunk your mouth further onto his length, taking as much as you could. It was so quiet you only noticed his uneven breathing as he eyed you from above.

“Shit, you’re so good for me,” he said. “Now stop with the teasing, will you? You know what happens if you don’t.”

You knew exactly. And so you shifted from your slow movements to quicker ones. You made sure to keep your tongue on him, especially when you moved your head away, swirling it around the tip now and then. His moans were music to your ears and only motivated you further. You had always loved his voice, when you sang to the song on the car radio or hummed his latest favorite song under the shower. But nothing compared to the way his voice sounded when you sucked him off. He seemed to be the most unrestrained then, not caring who heard him because he was way to obsessed with you sitting by his feet. The way he looked at you then made your stomach turn in pleasure. He didn’t even need to say anything or touch you. His overseeing eyes alone made you want him more than anything else.

His fingers in your hair curled, pushing your head further down on him. You focused on not gagging, your eyes closing. Tears brimmed behind your eyelids, but you were determined not to let them fall. Instead, you opened your lips a little wider and stuck your tongue out to make it easier for him to use your mouth however he desired.

“That’s a good girl,” he said, sighing in relief. You were awaiting treatment a lot rougher than the one he gave you, though. He thrusted into your mouth rather slowly, giving you enough of a break to remember to breathe. When you looked up at him with your sweetest eyes possible, his expression was a mix of strain and pleasure. You suspected he was trying not to overdo it just yet.

“Baby…can I fuck you or is that too much for you?” he asked. You perked up at his request. When you started humming around his length, he pulled away to let you speak.

“Please,” you said. “Fuck me. On the table.”

“Alright, my baby’s making the rules now, is she?” he said. “Come here.”

“I thought that’s where you wanted me to remember you, wasn’t it?” you asked, getting up.

“You’re right,” he said. You sat down on the edge of the office table with your legs parted for him to stand between them. Just once he kissed you. You wanted him to hurry, so you linked your heels behind his back, pulling him closer.

“Take me like a good girl.” He ran his cock over your slick folds, and he groaned when he felt your warmth on him. In response you nodded willingly, unable to wait a second more for him. Luckily, he didn’t plan on dragging out the anticipation any longer. With ease he slid into you, finding a familiar rhythm right away. As if you hadn’t just come ten minutes ago, you whimpered pathetically at the satisfaction. You leaned your weight onto your hands behind you, watching his cock enter you over and over. There was no limit to how many times you could have him inside of you. Every time it felt the same. Like he was completing you, all whilst simultaneously ruining you. His thrusts were sharp and as you raised your legs and changed the angle slightly, your eyes rolled back for a moment.

“Harder,” you asked, even though you were already overwhelmed.

“You want more?” he asked. You hummed a yes and nodded quickly. His grip on your waist tightened as he pulled you closer to the edge of the table. He didn’t disappoint. He never did. Swiftly, he pushed your legs further open and pounded into you, making your body shake every time his hips slapped against yours. It drove you borderline mad. A part of your brain urged you to praise him, to let him know what he was doing to you. But then, those unspoken words between you were inconsequential. You didn’t need to tell him how good he was. He could read it in every part of your body. He saw it in the arch of your back, in your curled toes and in your lip that was captured between your teeth. He heard it in the way you moaned and said his name like he was your savior.

Plus, you would tell him all about it afterward. But that wasn’t what your mind was focused on momentarily. It was the way he hit your sweet spot every time and you could barely breathe normally amidst your whimpers. You hadn’t even introduced yourself to all your neighbors yet, but they most certainly had taken notice of your arrival in the new apartment.

“Can you use your hands for me?” he asked. “Show me touching yourself, baby.”

His words and the look of dominance in his eyes was all it took, and without second thought your hands went to your center. You sucked in a breath at the added pleasure. It was almost too much at first, but then you let it all in. Like a wave was crashing over you, your eyes closed, and you hummed from the intensity.

“That’s it. Make yourself come again,” he said. “You can do it again.”

“Yes,” you said, almost breathed with the weakest voice. Your body had other things to focus on at that moment, letting your vocal chords do whatever they felt like. You clenched your walls around him and the knot in your stomach tightened with every little circle you drew on your clit. His usually tender eyes were everything but that as he watched you revel in the pleasure.

“So fucking hot,” he groaned. You tried hard to uphold eye-contact through fluttering eyelids and furrowed brows. “Good girl, keep going. Tell me when you’re coming.”

You hummed a yes as one of his hands cupped the side of your neck, the other remaining on your hips so he could push your body against his own with every thrust. After all this time of being with him you knew what it meant when his moans became higher pitched and he seemed to not realize his mean grip on your skin – not that you minded. You loved seeing the marks he left on you, especially when you had nowhere to be the next days. It always made him hungry, when he saw the dark spots on your skin, like a fading memory of what you had done.

A curse fell from his perfect lips and his thrusts turned sloppy as he came inside of you. His face, all twisted in bliss and from exhaustion, was all you needed.

“Stay inside of me. Just for a little while, please,” you plead, fingers on your clit rubbing at the quickest speed you could muster. “I’ll come if you stay.”

“I’m right here,” he said, slowing his actions until he was just filling you up, but now moving anymore. “It’s okay. Come for me.”

Just having him there, stretching out your walls and making you feel so close to him was all you really needed. And his words of affirmation sent you over the edge in no time. It was a toe-curling, mind-bending surge that overcame you at your release. Stars danced delightfully behind your closed eyelids while you tried to process all of it. He gripped your hand that was touching your clit and pressed it down, urging you to go on for a little while longer. You whined in sensitivity, feeling like your legs would give in, even though you were already sitting down. For just another while, he dragged out your orgasm as you struggled to control your overwhelmed senses. He distracted you by bending forward and letting his lips graze yours.

“You did so good,” he said. “My pretty maid.”

You whimpered and then sighed when he finally lifted your hand away from between your legs. Only then you could scrape together some words.

“We both did good today,” you grinned. “And I mean not only the last half hour.”

“Agreed,” he said. “Tomorrow we could tackle those last boxes in the kitchen. What do you think?”

“Can the maid outfit make another appearance?” you asked.

“I was hoping it might,” he said, kissing you softly. Your tired limbs and mind welcomed his gentleness as your hands went to his hair. You could already guess how the next day would go, then. But truth be told, you didn’t mind it one bit.