#my tv has been acting up so it looks like i’ll need to fix that

[lizclipse]

i feel like i’ve had a string of bad luck with tech recently and i just want to fuck it all off an go live in the woods

[joekeeryswife]

Outbreak Day - J.M

a/n: hello angels! reader is 26 and pregnant and Joel is 36. there is a little twist 😵 best way to describe this imagine is that it’s sad, long and has a shitty ending lmfao. okay anyways, enjoy reading 🫶 please send me in some fluffy requests and some dad! joel requests too!!

big trigger warning this imagine is very gory and descriptive!

“Sarah honey, is that you?” you turned to look at the front door and saw your step daughter Sarah coming home from school. “hey mum” she said as she set her backpack down on the floor. “how was school?” you walked toward her and gave her a small hug and a kiss on her forehead.

“was good. got dads watch fixed but everyone acting weird, cops everywhere, shops closing early. i don’t know just weird” she said making your heart pound a little, you didn’t know why but hearing her say that scared you but you tried not to dwell on it too much. “yeah well it’s probably just people being stupid. we shouldn’t worry too much okay?” she nodded but then groaned making you frown.

“dad told the Adlers i’d go over there to help them make cookies” she sighed, it wasn’t that she didn’t like the Adlers it was just she wanted to spend time with you and her dad as it was his birthday. “look, go there for thirty minutes then say i need you home, i don’t mind you blaming me.” she smiled and thanked you.

“i was going to make your dad a cake but we don’t have the ingredients and i was too tired to go food shopping so he should be brining one home, he’s going to be home earlier today as well” her eyes lit up as you spoke “is it a chocolate cake?” she asked watching you nod. “i didn’t tell him it was because you have been craving one i told him it was because i was” Joel hated chocolate cake but for his girls he’d do anything to please them.

“thank you mum, you’re the best. i owe you one” she said as she turned to go out the front door again to the Adlers house. “no worries honey, if Mrs Adler bakes chocolate chip cookies please bring me one, the baby is craving them like mad” you said as you rubbed your growing stomach. she nodded and said her goodbyes before leaving to spend the worst 30 minutes of her life with the Adlers.

-♡-

“hey baby girl. how was school?” Joel asked as he finally got home, four hours later than expected. “you’re late” she said, completely ignoring his question as her eyes shifted from the TV to him. you had both been waiting for him on the sofa watching Harry Potter and you had fallen asleep not even halfway through the movie. being pregnant had made you extremely tired so it wasn’t a shock to Sarah when she saw you put a blanket over yourself and curl up into a ball on the sofa within the first 10 minutes of the movie playing.

“i know, im sorry. work has been crazy, guys calling in sick, it was just me, uncle Tommy and Dave in today. i meant to phone mum but my phone died” he said as he made his way over to the two of you. his heart melted when he saw you sleeping next to Sarah, you’d never looked cuter. “its fine, we had fun without you anyways” he lifted up your feet so he could sit between you both, careful to not wake you up in the process.

“did you at least get the cake?” she said shyly as Joel got comfortable on the sofa. “oh shit” he put his head in his hands “im sorry honey i completely forgot” she nodded, understanding that he obviously came straight home as soon as he finished work. “mum is probably gonna kill you. she wanted cookies earlier from the Adlers but they were making raisin instead of chocolate chip so i didn’t even bother asking if i could bring one home for her” Sarah said and Joel wrapped his arm around her shoulders, his other resting on your legs.

“i’ll get you guys a cake tomorrow, i promise it just completely slipped my mind” she shook her head, indicating that it was fine and she understood he was stressed. Joel felt you stir and you woke up, your hair all over the place and your bones cracking as you stretched from a very good nap. “hi baby” Joel said softly as you looked at him.

he unwrapped his arms from Sarah’s shoulders for a moment so he could give you a hug and a kiss. “i miss you so much” you said as you sat up so you could rest on him instead of the arm of the sofa. “i missed you too. how are you? how’s the baby?” you nodded, still half asleep.

“fine, kicking like crazy” you were only six months pregnant and your unborn daughter was already giving you a hard time. you rested your head on his chest as he wrapped his arms around both you and Sarah, pulling you both into him. “did you bring home the cake?” you asked making him sigh “no, i’m sorry baby, i forgot” you shrugged, eyes closing again as you tried to fight sleep but it was no use.

“i love mum so much but she could have slept through world war 2 and not have been disturbed at all” she said making Joel laugh quietly, trying not to wake you up. to be fair, carrying this baby had knackered you out and he understood that you needed sleep but sometimes you would be halfway through a conversation with him when he got home from work and you’d be falling asleep whilst you were taking. “to be fair, you aren’t wrong there” he ran a hand through your hair gently as he admired you, you were stunning and he loved you so much.

“anyway, let’s try spend some time together tonight, let’s put on a good film, this is shit” Joel said making Sarah scoff and look at him “that is a lie. Harry Potter is the best” he shook his head. “take it back or you work get your present” she said making him gasp. “you wouldn’t dare do that” he said to her, making her give him the ‘try me’ face which made him quickly change his comment and apologise to her.

she grabbed the box off of the coffee table and handed it to him. he unwrapped his arm from her yet again to try open it with one hand without waking you up. he opened the box and saw his now fixed watched that had been broken for three months. “aww baby that’s so sweet, thank you” he kissed her forehead and tried to put the watch on but failed miserably making Sarah help him put it on. “okay now we can watch your stupid old film dad but don’t expect me to stay awake” she said as they both got comfortable again “i wouldn’t dream of it” he smiled at her.

-♡-

green and blue flashing light woke Sarah up from her sleep. she looked around the room confused, she had somehow ended up in her bedroom and didn’t hear any noise in the house. she sat up as she heard helicopters fly over the house and car alarms go off. she quickly got up calling out for Joel as she walked around the house but she only found you in bed asleep, no sign of Joel.

she felt awful waking you up but she had no other choice. she crept to the side of your bed and shook you awake. “mum, can you wake up please?” you jumped awake when you felt her hand on your shoulder. “what’s the matter sweetheart?” you asked but your question was answered when another helicopter flew over the house. “what the hell?” you said sitting up quickly.

you grabbed your phone which was on the bedside table but there was no service. “what’s happening?” Sarah asked as you quickly got dressed out of your pyjamas. you were going to go outside and you didn’t want your neighbours, if they were awake, to see you in your pyjamas so you put on a tracksuit before walking downstairs. “i don’t know baby”

you turned on the tv and heard the broadcast ‘stay home, do not let anyone into your house. we will post more instructions soon’ you frowned, what the fuck was happening? you checked your phone again, this time trying to phone anyone, your mum, your dad, your brother, Joel and nothing. no calls were going through.

the two of you jumped at the sound of Mercy, the Adlers dog barking at your front door. Sarah quickly put on her shoes and went outside to retrieve the dog and you quickly followed, slipping on your trainers. “Sarah i don’t think we should go outside yet. we should wait for your dad” but she ignored you. she walked outside, bringing Mercy with her to take him back home making you follow after her as quick as you could.

“Sarah please come back inside” you said but the curious girl went inside the Adlers house after she heard a glass breaking. “no Sarah don’t go in there” you sighed, you loved that girl but she did not listen. Sarah was quiet walking into that house, making sure to not make any sudden movements as she did. the noise was coming from the kitchen and she quickly made her way there and almost screamed at the sight infront of her.

you were right behind her, you felt sick to your stomach as you saw Mrs Adlers mum chewing on her daughter’s neck with some sort of fungus growing out of her mouth. your eyes widened and your heart dropped, what the fuck was going on? the once disabled old woman looked up at the two of you and quickly stood up screeching and running after you when you told Sarah to run.

you weren’t as quick as you used to be but you were luckily quick enough the run away from this infected woman, she had fallen over the crinkled carpet giving you enough time to escape. “Sarah we need to get back in the house right now” you shouted as you grabbed her hand and tried to pull her into the house but as you did Joel’s truck pulled up.

“get in the truck right now” Joel shouted at you both, he sounded scared and he was never ever scared. this made you feel even more sick than before. he had a wrench in his hand and he quickly pulled the two of you behind him when the screeching sound approached you again. you all looked at the front door to see the elderly woman fall over the steps of her front porch.

Tommy got out of the car with a huge rifle in his hand making your eyes fill with tears, you were absolutely terrified but you didn’t want to show Sarah that you were scared, if she saw that she would feel even more frightened then she already was. you grabbed ahold of her hand and tried to pull her into the truck but she wouldn’t budge. it was like she was frozen in fear.

the old woman’s head shot up, her eyes were black and she started crawling towards you then she stood up and ran towards Joel and Tommy. “what are we doing Joel” without a second thought Joel cracked the wrench on her head making her fall to the floor. you and Sarah both gasped at what he had just done. Joel was never a violent person and this had shocked you.

he dropped the wrench and they both turned to look at you and Sarah. both of your faces were filled with fear and Joel quickly pulled Sarah into him “you killed her” she said, voice filled with fear “i know baby i’m sorry” he kissed her forehead and looked at you. you couldn’t believe what you just saw. you were confused and scared. “we gotta go” Tommy said making you all quickly get in the car.

you were sat in the back with Sarah who hugged you closely “it’s alright honey, it’ll all be over soon i promise” you whispered and you rubbed your hand up and down her arm, trying to comfort her but also trying to comfort yourself. you could feel the baby kicking vigorously “are you okay y/n? you aren’t hurt are you?” Joel asked as he looked back at the two of you. you just shook your head.

you didn’t know why but all this fear made you wish you were back to being a little kid, wishing that your mum was there to comfort you when you were scared yet now you were the adult comforting your child and you didn’t know if you would ever even see your mum again.

“dad-” Sarah said but Joel quickly cut her off “i don’t know” he said like he knew what she was going to ask him. “they’re saying it’s a virus, some kind of parasite” Tommy added making Joel look at him. “does it come from terrorists?” she asked making Joel repeat himself “we don’t know”

“are we sick?” she asked and this time you answered “no, none of us are sick” Joel nodded “of course not” he sounded mad but you didn’t know what at. “why were they blowing things up?” her eyes were filled with tears as she asked all these questions.

“no idea, there’s no phone, no radio” her eyes darted between Tommy and Joel “how do you know?” she asked, voice laced with concern “what?” Joel looked back at the two of you, cuddled up together with you trying to act your calmest but he knew you, you were freaking out.

“how do you know we aren’t sick?” she was practically crying now. “they’re saying it’s mostly people in the city, that’s why they have the highway blocked off” Tommy said but he was quickly silenced when he drove past a burning house of one of his friends.

“the Adlers would take nana to the city, so that’s why they were sick?” Joel nodded “your right, that’s probably why” his thick texan accent was filled with concern but he tried his best to stay calm. “we are going to be fine, trust me” Tommy said but he sounded unsure of what he had just said.

he drive around the corner and quickly slowed down when he saw a small family. “what are you doing?” Joel asked and Tommy just shook his head “they have a kid Joel” Joel quickly cut him off. “so do we, are you forgetting that my wife is pregnant?”

“Joel Tommy is right, they have a kid we should help them” he turned back to you “no, we don’t know them. keep driving Tommy” he’d never spoken this was before and this was definitely not the Joel you knew. you just prayed that whatever this is would go away and you could go back to your normal lives.

-♡-

you were driving through the town, planes flying low, catastrophe everywhere and you were just scared. “right keep going down this way” Joel said as Tommy drove down a side road leading to a whole group of people who were fighting and running away from the danger. “keep driving Tommy” Joel said even though there were people everywhere.

“are you kidding? Joel i can’t just drive through a whole group of people” Joel cut him off shouting “just keep going damn it” cars were crashing into each other, the sounds of people screaming made your eyes fill with tears. the next thing you knew the cinema doors cracked open with a lot more people coming out of it, all of them crying.

“shit” Tommy said as he quickly stoped the car “go go, fuck Tommy go get out of here” Joel said as he looked behind him out of the truck and slammed his hand on the dashboard “i’m going, i’m going” Tommy started reversing back, careful to not hit anyone in the process.

Sarah looked out the back window and so did you, seeing the huge airplane falling rapidly toward the floor. “Tommy, you need get out of here” you shouted as the plane darted toward you. “fuck Tommy go now” Joel shouted but it was too late, the huge plane crashed on the ground exploding into a million pieces.

the huge flame almost blinded you, you felt sickened at the thought of all those people on the plane that didn’t even stand a chance. “oh shit” you heard Sarah say as a huge chunk of the plane crashed into you car and then your whole world went black.

-♡-

“y/n” you felt someone’s hand on your shoulder as you awoke from the darkness “y/n honey we need to get you out, can you get out slowly for me angel?” Joel’s soft voice filled your mind as you sat up, a sharp shooting pain went right through your stomach making you groan. “my stomach is killing me” you said as you put a hand on your belly. you looked out the window and saw Sarah sitting on the floor and Joel crouching next to where you were sitting.

“don’t panic, it’s probably nothing okay?” Joel’s heart dropped when he heard you say that, a pain in your stomach was never a good sign especially when you are pregnant. “can you get out sweetheart? or do you need help?” you just nodded and started making your way out of the car.

once you had gotten out of the car you stood next to Sarah and saw Tommy was on the opposite side “we gotta get off of the street” he said as you stood up right, you right hand still back on your stomach hoping to feel any sign of movement. “Sarah can’t walk, i’ll have to carry her. do you think you can walk?” you nodded again. “shit” you heard Tommy shout as a police car crashed into Tommys now ruined truck.

the car set alight and you were lucky you even made it out of the car that quick before it crashed otherwise you would have been dead and you wouldn’t have wanted your family to see that. “Tommy” Joel shouted as he tried to see Tommys face through the flames. “i’m okay, head to the river and i’ll meet you there” with a simple nod Joel picked up Sarah and pushed you behind him.

“stay close okay?” he gave you a quick kiss before you both started making your way through the side roads trying to find a way to the river. the two of you stopped once you saw a group of bodies with people eating them. “what the fuck” you whispered as you saw this horrific sight in front of you. one of the people shot up, looking at you twitching weirdly.

“go” Joel pushed you in front of him and you both started running through a random cafe. the man chased you, snarling and screeching as he followed. you could hear the man tripping over different things but you didn’t dare look behind you. you could hear Joel comforting Sarah who was now crying as you finally made it outside but you didn’t stop running until a gunshot filled the silent field.

you and Joel both stopped, turning to look back and the now dead body in front of you. “don’t move” you heard someone say next to you as a bright light shone on the three of you. “my daughters hurt her ankle and my wife is pregnant” the man lowered his gun and started talking to his radio “i’ve got three civilians by the river, one of them injured, one pregnant”

you couldn’t make out what the other person was saying but your thoughts were cut short when Sarah spoke up “what about uncle Tommy?” she questioned Joel just shook his head “i’m gonna get you both safe first then i’ll go back for him okay?” she just nodded and you all looked back at the masked man. “yes sir….. yes sir”

he raised his gun “we are not sick” Joel said as the man approached the three of you. “sir, i said we are not sick” with that the masked man shot a round of bullets and Joel heard you and Sarah scream. you all rolled down a small ditch and Joel quickly turned to look at the man who was now approaching him with his gun raised. “i’m sorry” he said but before he could shoot Joel another shot was fired, killing him instantly.

he looked up to see Tommy with his gun raised, he had never been so happy to see his brother in his whole life. “are you okay?” Tommy asked Joel who was just grazed by a bullet and Joel just nodded but Tommys eyes shifted to you who was covered in blood and gasping for air. “oh god” he said making Joel turn around to look at you.

all you could do was feel a throbbing pain in you stomach. Joel quickly got up and ran to you and Tommy made sure Sarah was okay and turned her away from you. he knew Joel wouldn’t want her seeing you like this and it was bad enough he had to see you like this. “no no it’s okay” he could see the blood soaking through your jumper, the once grey colour was now a soaked dark red and it was growing by the second.

“you’re okay, move your hand honey” Joel said once you’d moved your hand, putting pressure on the wound. you cried in pain as you still gasped for air. “i know i know im so sorry sweetheart i am” he said and he pressed harder on the wound to stop it from bleeding out more. you managed to speak through your pain as you grabbed onto Joel’s arm “go” he shook his head.

“go Joel, take” you took a few more deep breaths as you tried to calm yourself down “take Sarah and go” he just shook his head again. “no, i’m not leaving you like this. i can get help and you’re gonna survive this” he said, his eyes filling with tears as he saw your tired but pained expression.

“you know how much i love you, i don’t” you closed your eyes as you breathed deeply again “i don’t want you seeing me like this” you stuttered out. you felt a tear roll down your cheek as you realised what was about to happen to you. “meeting you was the best thing to ever happen to me” you could hear Sarah sobbing next to Tommy and you hated that she was even watching you, laying there covered in blood.

“i’m sorry” he said as he sat down next to you, he took the pressure off of your wound and you were grateful he had given up, there was no way you were going to be able to survive this and you didn’t want to prolong it. you just shook your head at his comment. “don’t-”

you felt pain all over your body but you felt tired, so tired that you wanted to sleep desperately. “i love you, i love Sarah. just take her and run okay?” he had tears now rolling down his cheeks, his bloody hand now stroking your cheek softly. “im not leaving you here on your own” you just smiled at him. you knew he wouldn’t leave but you wanted to save him from the trauma of seeing you go.

“i know” you looked at him and he kissed you, one last for however long he has left on this earth. “i love you so much” you heard him say and with that your eyes closed. he sobbed quietly, you were gone and nothing was ever going to bring you back.

you were carrying his unborn child and he wished he could go back in time and taken the bullet instead of you. you were this ethereal soul who didn’t deserve to die this way and he hated it. he hated it so much. he tried his best to calm himself down as he took your wedding ring off of your finger and put it in his pocket hoping to keep it safe. it wasn’t like someone was going to steal it but he took it off so he could have something with him that was yours.

he kissed your forehead and carefully placed your body back on the floor and turned toward Sarah and Tommy, he had tear stains on his cheeks but his expression was neutral. “let’s go” he said, he was emotionless “dad, we can’t just leave her-” he cut Sarah off “i said let’s go” with that the three of them left and never looked back.

[beebeetheclown]

Room Service

Summary: not really any main plot, you just work at a high class hotel Kendall Roy is staying at and end up in his bed.

Enjoy ;)

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You were at the customer service desk of the hotel when you got the call. “Hey, uh my fuckin’ tv is broken. I paid what, a fuckin’ ton for this hotel and you can’t have a tv working?”

You were used to these types of calls, working at a high class hotel. All of the greedy rich people would only stay there. When they had one tiny problem, they needed to get it fixed asap, to satisfy their “high class needs”.

“Yes sir, sorry about that. I will be up as soon as possible, can I get your room number?”

The guy's voice on the other end seems less aggressive now that he hears your voice, “246.”

“Alright, I’ll be there shortly.” You say before hanging up the phone. You leave the desk and make your way up the elevator. You didn’t know much about tv’s and how to fix them, but your boss was kind of a bitch and made you deal with everything saying, “You should know how to do everything if you want to be a successful worker.” You had hoped it wasn’t too hard of a problem to fix, otherwise, the man would probably get angry with you and tell your boss.

When you knock on the door, it doesn’t take long for the man to answer. He is on the phone and motions for you to come in with his head. You recognized him. You saw him come into the hotel with two others, he was the one guy with that white button-up you had been eyeing upon his arrival. He was hot, you would be lying to yourself if you denied that, but he was rich, and by his phone call demand, you guessed he was just another snobby rich man he only cared about himself, so that turned you off.

When he hangs up the phone it gets quiet before he speaks, “So, they sent you up here to fix this tv I assume?”

You smile politely at him, “Yes sir, what seems to be wrong with it?”

“Uh, it doesn’t fucking turn on sweetheart, that’s the problem.”

You don’t know if you hated or liked his reply, calling you such a name.

“Well, let me see if I can try and figure this out for you sir. My apologies for this trouble.”

You take the remote in your hands and press the on button, facing it at the tv and waiting a couple of seconds.

“I’m not that dumb, “he chuckles, “I’ve tried that already.”

You don’t know what to say to his smartass reply. You had to remain polite, it was your job.

“Right, sorry sir.” You reply then put down the remote as the tv is still black. You walk over to the side of the tv and realise the on button is flashing red. When you click it, it turns green and the tv turns on.

You look over at him and notice that he has a small smile on his face and shakes his head. “That’s all I had to do?”

“Yes, sir.” You say and smile. You try not to laugh at just how clueless rich people could be at times. They are so used to having their maids do things for them. God, do they do anything for themselves? “It should work from now on.”

“Right, well… Thank you. For helping a dummy like me out.” He says with a smile, “sorry to interrupt your schedule.”

“Oh no sir, it’s no problem at all.”

“Are you sure?” He suddenly asks. “You can be honest with me. I’m not going to tell your manager if you break your little sweet act.”

You begin to feel confused, “I’m sorry?”

He chuckles quietly, “I mean come on, you don’t actually like doing this sort of thing do you? You look young, I bet you’d rather be out with friends on a Friday night rather than helping out people like me.”

You feel kind of awkward for some reason, “I go out sometimes, but this is my job. I enjoy my job as well sir. I’m happy to help.”

He smiles then shakes his head again, “how old are you?”

“Sorry?”

“I asked, how old are you.” He says it this time in a slower, and deeper voice.

“I’m 21 sir.” You reply.

“So you’re still just a young little thing. Poor you, stuck at work. I’m sure you’d rather be out right now, or at home?”

“Yeah, I guess so.” You say, breaking your little room service act.

“Well, when do you get off?”

You didn’t know what his intentions were at this point. Was he asking these personal questions as a way to flirt with you or was he just that clueless and how suspicious they all sounded.

“Not for another 5 hours. It’s one of those late night shifts.”

He clicks his tongue, “Poor thing. If I was your age, I’d be pissed off for having to do late night shifts on such a nice night like tonight.”

“Why, how old are you?” You ask out of nowhere, you immediately regret asking.

“I’ll be 33 in a couple of months.” He smiles.

You nod your head and feel as if you need to get out of the room now, embarrassed from asking him for his age.

“Well, I must go now sir, if you have any more problems, just call the customer service desk, we’ll be sure to help.”

“Alright, well thank you again.” He says. You had been with him for so long now that his voice was starting to turn you on. You keep quiet as he follows you to the door. As you exit, you tell him to have a goodnight and then walk away, not being able to be near him anymore.

His room smelt of cologne mixed with mint and wood. His voice was so attractive. His plain white button-up shirt was so basic but yet so attractive to you.

About an hour has passed before you are switched over to be the wine server in the little bar area. You liked this job a lot better than customer service. You didn’t have as many annoying complaints to deal with. You grab another wine bottle from the bar and walk it around tables, asking people if they’d like to try a glass. As you are pouring a glass of it at a table you glance up at the next table and see him again. He hasn’t seemed to notice you yet.

When you walk over to the table, you grow nervous then clear your throat before you speak. “Hello good evening, would you like to try some of our special champagne tonight?” You say with a smile that hides your anxiousness. You study the two other people that are with him. There is a pretty girl with short red hair and another rich looking guy with his hair kind of swept to the side.

“Well, look who it is. My little tv fixer upper.” The one guy jokes. “Did you get switched over to this job now?”

“Uh, yeah… they switch us around often.” You reply.

He smiles up at you and it gets awkwardly quiet.

“Okay you two have definitely fucked.” The other boy says, looking between the two of you, breaking the silence. You are taken back a little by such a reply. Before you can speak, the guy in the white button-up speaks.

“Rome, can you fuck off. Leave the poor girl alone.” He says, “I’m sorry about him sweetheart, we’d love to try some of your champagne.”

You just awkwardly smile then pour each of them a glass.

“There you are.” You say then when they thank you, you walk away. You pass other tables and just walk back to the bar and sit down. You needed to think of that one boy's snarky reply. Even if it was a joke, it made you think. Why would he joke about something like that? Did you make it obvious that you were attracted to his friend?

Before you can get caught in your thoughts any longer, the attractive one walks up to you and sits down.

“Hey, I’m sorry about him alright?”

“No, don’t be sir.”

“Kendall.” He says with a smile.

“What?” You ask awkwardly.

“You can call me Kendall. You don’t need to call me sir, even though I did get kind of used to it.”

“Okay… well, Kendall, don’t be sorry about it really, it’s no big deal.”

“He’s my brother. He can be a bit weird at times, says whatever he wants out loud most of the time, thinking it’s okay.”

You laugh a little, “It’s not that big of a deal, I mean it sir.” You pause, “Kendall, I mean.”

He smiles then takes a sip of his drink, “you don’t have a name tag, how am I supposed to know what to call you?”

You look down at your dress then realise you had forgotten your name tag, “Oh shoot. I usually wear one, I guess I forgot.”

He chuckles, “Well tell me your name, you can’t just make me guess.”

When you tell him your name, he repeats it again softly, “that’s very pretty you know? Your boyfriend is lucky to have a girl like you. A pretty name, a nice personality, and a nice smile.” He says. He was using the boyfriend trick. Trying to get you to say if you had a boyfriend or not by not asking you the question directly. He keeps his eyes on you, waiting for your reply.

“Oh, I don’t have a boyfriend.”

“No? How come? I’m sure a bunch of boys just go crazy for you.”

“I mean maybe, but I tend to turn them down.” You admit.

“Why?”

“I don’t know, they don’t satisfy me.”

“Don’t satisfy you?” He questions, “in what ways?”

You take a second to reply, “many ways.” You say quietly and smile.

“Oh, I see.” he replies, “what are you into then? Being so picky?” He jokes.

You don’t really know what to do. You consider flirting with him. There was no way he wasn’t acting this way for no reason. You remember hearing that he was only staying for one night as you heard him checking in. So if flirting with him went wrong, you’d never see him again. So you gave it a shot.

“Well let’s see,” you begin, “I may be into short hair. Maybe men that are on the richer side, with a nice voice and… maybe who also happen to wear white-pullover shirts.”

An evil smirk slowly appears on his face as he looks in your eyes then down at your lips. “Are you describing me? Is that what I’m getting at here?”

“I don’t know, am I?”

Your reply makes him hard.

“Are you?” He says lowly.

‘Maybe I am.”

He looks down at your lips again then lets out a huff of air through his nose, “You know, I was having troubles with my tv again. Since you're such an expert, why don’t you come and help me with it again.” He asks then his face comes closer to yours, “what do you say?”

You smile at him. Was this really all happening? Your boss would kill you, your coworkers would judge you for “hanging around” with one of the hotel guests. You just couldn’t help yourself. You wanted him.

“Sure. I could see what I could do,” you reply then whisper, “I’m happy to help my guests with their needs.”

He smiles, getting more turned on now, “I knew I’d be able to break that shyness away from you. It’s cute when you’re shy, but I have to say, I think I like this side of you better.”

Before you know it, you are following Kendall to his room. As you’re in the hallway, following behind him, he reaches back to take your hand. He is now practically pulling you along with him.

You wait for his key card to click and when it does, he pulls you inside. “You know, employees aren’t supposed to do this sort of thing with guests.” You tease.

He plays along, “what, fix my tv?”

You look at him then let out a soft laugh. “Right, your tv. Let me see if I can fix it for you.”

The both of you know the tv works just fun, it was fun to just play your little games. When the tv turns on you look at him before turning it off again.

“Hm, seems to be working just fine, sir.”

“How strange.” He chuckles.

“Anything else you need help with sir?”

“Yes actually, there is.” He steps closer to you now and puts his hand on your waist, “is this ok? Do you want me to keep going? You know, I suggest you do, to.. satisfy your guests.”

“Yes Kendall.” Is all you can manage to say.

Both hands are on your hips now, “I know I told you you can call me by my name,” he says before he brings his lips close to your ear, “but I think I like it when you call me sir.”

You take a deep breathe in at the feeling of his warm breath. “Make up your mind.” You tease and whisper back.

“I want you to call me sir until I tell you otherwise.”

“Yes sir.” You say. The reason why he enjoyed the words “sir” falling from your lips so much was because it made him feel empowered. It added onto this little cat mouse game you were playing, the little housekeeper and rich man fantasy.

“I’m going to need you to tell me exactly what you want baby.”

“I want… I want you to fuck me.”

He chuckles hearing you blurt out such a thing, “I didn’t know you’d give in so easily.”

“I’m sorry sir.”

“No, why are you sorry? I’m glad you are giving yourself to me so easily.” He replies touches your cheek, “I’m going to need you to take your clothes off, can you do that for me?”

“Yes.” You say quietly than you feel his grip on your hip tighten, “sir. Yes sir.”

“Good. Good girl.”

You look up at him as you begin to slide the straps of your little dress down your shoulders. He now sits on the bed and watches you undress, with an evil smirk on his lips. When you are left in your bra and panties he speaks again,

“So, a man has never satisfied you huh?”

You shake your head.

“Why’d you agree to come up here with me then?”

“Because… I think, you can satisfy me sir. I’ve got a good feeling I guess. Even though you are a guest at my hotel, there’s camera you know? They’ll see me go into your room if they watch it back.”

“Uh huh and that’s no problem. You’re in here to fix the tv, for about 30 minutes… or all night.” He says with a chuckle.

“All night?”

“Yeah, I’ll make sure I satisfy you baby. Even if that takes us all night.” With that, he gets up and then picks you up to practically throw you onto the bed.

You look up and see that he is now undressing. Taking everything off in a quick manner. He can’t even fully pull his dress pants down before he is leaning down to kiss you. You kiss him back, slipping your tongue in his mouth with need.

You help him unbutton his shirt then speak into his lips, “I want you to keep this shirt on, please Ken- sir. Please sir.”

“You’re something else.” He says in satisfaction. “Yeah, you want me to keep this on?”

“Yes. I want you to fuck me with your expensive shirt that you paid a crazy amount for because rich people are crazy.” You chuckle.

“Rich people are crazy?” He smiles.

“Uh huh. So crazy. How much did you even pay for that shirt, $100?”

He chuckles, “more than that sweetheart,” and he kisses you again. “A lot more.”

You whimper in his mouth. The fact that you were almost nude underneath a man that was wearing an outfit that most definitely cost more than your rent made you fold.

Soon he stands up again, removing everything now expect for his button-up, leaving it on but unbuttoned.

He pulls at your panties and you raise your hips so he can remove them and throw them on the floor. You can’t wait any longer and you arch your back and undo your bra yourself, throwing it to join the clothes on the floor.

His fingers begin to play with your clit then they slide down to your cunt. Fucking you with them lightly to get you ready for his cock.

You whimper our at the feeling of pleasure before he laughs a little then pulls his fingers away, to open the condom he had in his hands.

“You brought a condom on a sibling trip?” You joke.

“I bring one with me everywhere sweetheart. In case I meet a pretty girl just like you.”

This probably meant he has met up with a lot of women in his life, but you didn’t care in that moment. He was with you now and only you, that’s all that mattered.

He strokes himself a couple of times when he rolls it on.

“You sure you want this?” He asks, his tip at your cunt now.

“Yes sir.” You practically whine out.

He smiles one more time before he looks down and watches himself as he grinds his hips into you. He doesn’t go super slow, not letting you fully adjust to his size, he just fits himself all the way in.

You both moan out as your hips meet and he pulls out to thrust forward again. Beginning to find a pleasureable pace.

When you continue to moan out softly everytime your hips meet, he speaks.

“You’re so beautiful. So fucking pretty when your under me like this.” He breathes out as he ticks hair behind your ear. “You like this? Does that feel good?” His voice is a little shaky as he continues to thrust his hips.

“Yes sir. So fucking good. Don’t stop, oh please don’t stop.”

Hearing you call him sir while he fucks you, he can’t help but fuck you faster, in a harsher pace. He grabs into your hips now.

The sounds of your wet skin slapping together and his little grunts and breaths echoing through the room makes you through your head back.

“You poor little girl. Not having any guy give you want you need. You deserve everything, deserve to be fucked properly just like this.” Is the last thing he says before he is now leaning in and on his forearms, fully on top of you. His abdomen comes to brush against your clit everytime he drives his hips back and forth, making you squeal in pleasure.

“Oh Ken- I.. I can’t.” Is the only thing you can breathe out.

“Just a little longer honey. You’re doing so good for me, so fucking good baby.” He says in your ear before his forehead is pressing against your shoulder.

“I want you to say my name when you come,” he continues, “can you do that for me? Say my name when you come so I can never forget your pretty little voice call out my name.”

You continue you whine and whimper out and he feels himself coming close, needing for you to come.

“I’m so.. close.” You cry out.

“Come on baby. You can do it. Come for me,” he says in an out of breath grunt, “come for me honey.”

And that’s all it takes you to come undone underneath him. You grab onto his button-up and grip it hard as you throw your head back while sweet moans and whimpers leave your lips.

“Say my name, oh shit baby, please say my name.”

You cry out his name like you’ve never done with anyone else before “Ken… Kendall!”

“Yeah there you go, just like that.” He sounds more and more out of breathe now as he is coming close, sweat dripping off his forehead and landing on yours “Just. thrust like. thrust that.”

It only take him a few more thrusts before they become more sloppy and he is stilling inside you. Holding your hips so you stay still as he spills into the condom.

You catch your breath as he is still on top of you. He chuckles a little at how good you just felt and kisses your lips before pulling out of you and laying beside you.

“I could fuck you all night if that were possible.” He jokes.

You giggle, “well too bad it’s not possible.” Your roll over to face him, “I think it’s safe to say you satisfied me Kendall.”

He smiles and plays with your hair, “yeah, I could tell.” He teases. “You were so good. I think I could take you everyday and not get tired of it. You should come to New York with me tomorrow.”

You’re not sure if he’s joking or not. “Yeah right.”

“I’m serious.” He says with a smile.

“Ken, I can’t just fly to New York tomorrow. I have work, I have family, friends here.”

“Okay well how about a week from now?”

“I don’t know.” You laugh, “but for now, how about this. You can keep my panties, you know, for a souvenir.”

“Oh yeah?”

“Yeah.”

He laughs softly, “I think I’d like that.”

He kisses you again, and you kiss him back.

A month later, you are in New York City, sleeping naked in his bed while he lays beside you, holding you close.

[neontoad]

“Ouch.”

“Oh, stop whining, you rabid dog,” Dazai says, pulling the thread through the loop and tightening the knot. She takes one last look at her stitchwork and hums, brushing her hair out of her eyes and finally making eye contact with Chuuya. “You wouldn't have been injured at all if you paid attention to your surroundings for once.”

“Oh, fuck off,” Chuuya snaps, sceptically looking at the stitches. As always, Dazai did a perfect job patching him up. That doesn’t mean he won’t bitch at her. “I’m the reason why your ass doesn't have a single scratch.”

“Yadda-yadda,” she says and theatrically yawns. “I would have dodged the attack. But how would you know that, right? I’m only the best strategist of the Port Mafia. No way I would have predicted that ambush, yeah?”

Chuuya grits his teeth and turns away. So what if she’s right? Maybe when Dazai calls him a dog, she’s not too far from the truth. Blindly protecting people around him is what Chuuya has always been doing. He’s not planning to stop, even though the person he’s protecting is the most annoying lanky mackerel in the world. 

“Whatever.” Chuuya looks around the safe house. It’s a decent one. As opposed to the ones they are used to, it’s pretty spacious, there’s a kitchenette, a working shower and even a TV, a luxury for a place that’s only used in extraordinary circumstances. “Wanna watch TV?” he asks, prodding Dazai’s foot with his.

“How fun.” Dazai rolls his eyes, but still, she gets up and grabs the remote control. “I’m choosing,” she says and brushes her unruly hair out of her eyes.

Chuuya nods and plops onto the couch. He doesn't really care what Dazai picks. He just needs some kind of background noise, as well as long-awaited peace and quiet. As long as he’s getting that, he’s content with whatever horrid TV show is gonna be on TV for the following few hours. 

Of course, as expected of Dazai, she opts for some bizarre obstacle course gameshow, bush as much as Chuuya hates to admit it, it’s really fucking fun to watch. Two cans of beer materialise out of nowhere and the evening gets somewhat tolerable despite throbbing pain in Chuuya’s chest where he got hit.

As he watches the show, Chuuya keeps seeing Dazai’s hand darting to her hair from the corner of his eye, brushing it out of her face and behind her ear, only for the unruly locks to fall back a few seconds later. 

“Wanna tie your hair?” Chuuya asks when Dazai fixes her hair for the millionth time. 

“Do I look like a person who owns a hair tie?”

“Uh. Yeah. You don't, actually.”

“Mind your business then,” she says and tucks her hair behind her ear, an uncharacteristic curse leaving her mouth when it falls on her face again.

“Ok, here,” Chuuya says, his hands acting faster than his brain, and rips off a strip of fabric from his t-shirt. It’s ruined, anyway. Won't hurt to make it into a makeshift hair tie for his slob of a partner. 

“It’s not gonna help,” she says, without ripping her eyes off the TV. “It’s still gonna be everywhere. It’s annoying.”

“Cut it, then.”

“Eh.”

“Or I can cut it for you.”

“Nah.”

This is so Dazai - being obviously uncomfortable but doing absolutely nothing to fix it. Sometimes he wonders what’s happening in her brain. Sometimes he’s too afraid to know. 

“I have an idea,” Chuuya says. “I can braid it.”

She raises an eyebrow. “Didn't know you were an undercover barber. Then why is your hair so shi-”

“I don’t fucking know how to do it!” he snaps, regretting he offered it in the first place. “I’ll follow a fucking Youtube tutorial. Or whatever.”

For a few seconds, it’s silent. 

“Ok,” Dazai says. “Fine. It’s gonna be hilarious. I just know it. Go ahead, Chuuya. Unleash your inner stylist. Try not to rip my head off, though.”

It’s gonna be hard not to, Chuuya thinks and opens the first braiding tutorial that pops up. It’s the most basic braid. He just can’t fuck it up, right? 

Needless to say, the third time he has to start again, Dazai is laughing and shaking so hard, Chuuya feels like her hair strands are reigns and Dazai is a particularly insufferable pony on crack. 

“I need a fucking hairbrush! Don’t you have a hairbrush?!”

“What do you think, Chuuya? Does it look like I have a hairbrush?”

In a way, Chuuya is glad there’s no hairbrush, otherwise, it might have become a murder weapon. He takes a deep breath and closes his eyes. “Stop fucking moving, shitty Dazai. I can do it. Give me a minute.”

“Of course, you can,” she says in the sweetest voice which makes Chuuya want to smack her. At least she stops moving.

“Maybe you should practice on yourself.”

“My hair is too short for braids if you haven't noticed, you blind mole.”

“Maybe you should grow it out. Like a mullet.”

“A mullet my ass,” he hisses through his teeth, trying his best to focus on crossing the hair sections in the right order. A fucking mullet. Never in his life. He’d just look like a moron. 

Finally, the braid is ready, and, feeling content and accomplished, Chuuya ties it with the strip of fabric he’s been holding between his teeth. 

He looks at the finished work. 

He swallows. 

It looks fucking horrendous.

“Uh,” he says, scratching his head. 

“What?”

“Uh. Nothing. Wanna see it?”

Instead of an answer, Dazai hands Chuuya her phone and he snaps a quick pic of that abomination of a braid. 

He mentally braces for another taunt (or probably a lifetime of taunts), when Dazai finally speaks.

“I love it.”

Chuuya blinks. 

“Thank you,” she says and moves to her seat on the couch, eyes fixed on the screen, a light blush gracing her cheeks.

“Uh. No problem,” Chuuya says, taking a sip of his beer. 

When they go back to the Port Mafia headquarters the next day, Dazai is still brandishing her ridiculously crooked braid. 

She still has it the day after. 

And the following day as well, even though it has gotten way too messy. 

Dazai still seems to like it. Chuuya likes it, too - although Dazai doesn’t have to know about it. 

“Wanna braid my hair?” she asks him the following day, handing him the strip of the ripped t-shirt, her hair messy and unruly. 

“Sure,” Chuuya says, opening the tutorial again. 

Hairdressing might have just become his new passion.  

Thank you for reading! Check out this lovely femzai art by Aimi on twt! I'm in love <3

[5sosfanfictioncatalogue]

Michael/Luke/Ashton Masterlist

Addicted To His Fix (ao3) - orphan_account E, 3k

Summary: Michael is a vampire. Luke is his human slave.

Birthday Boy(s) (ao3) - FayeHunter E, 5k

Summary: Michael takes Luke out for his birthday. They're both in for a treat.

Desperation (aoa3) - antisocialhood N/R, 2k

Summary: "What do we say, Luke?" Michaels voice was heavy, thick like syrup. He pushed the blondes hands from his legs, watching him carefully.

"I've been a very good boy," Luke started, looking down at the ground. "Will you fuck me, daddy?"

giggly (ao3) - calumhood (orphan_account) G, 226

Summary: luke can't stop giggling on their day off.

Grabby Hands (ao3) - antisocialhood calum/ashton, michael/luke/ashton N/R, 7k

Summary: Ashton likes wearing big sweaters, curling up with his daddy and sucking him off while they watch TV, and sometimes Calum likes to treat his princess to something special.

I Look So Damn Good On Ya (ao3) - senioritastyles E, 2k

Summary: Or: Michael and Luke take care of Ashton's needs while Calum is gone.

K (ao3) - HolyAFIx94 G, 5k

Summary: ⁂ Keys and locks are randomly dispersed (distributed, spread) to soulmates on chains when they are born. When in proximity, the lock and key will act as magnets and bring the two soulmates closer together until the key is placed in the lock and a gratifying click is heard, unlocking the chain. ⁂

Lemon (ao3) - im_just_a_sucker_for_bromance E, 3k

Summary: Luke was just being lazy, Michael just wanted sex and Ashton wanted to watch a movie. Michael always has his ways to coerce his bandmates; Luke was willing and all they had to do was to convince Ashton, who was more hesitant. In the end, Michael got what he wanted and the other two ended up having more fun than they had planned.

Sandwich (ao3) - im_just_a_sucker_for_bromance E, 3k

Summary: Ashton was tired and getting ready for bed when Luke had barged into his room, looking for some entertainment. Things had barely started when Michael walked in on them and eventually joined the party, which just got bigger and better.

when in rome (ao3) - lifewasradical E, 5k

Summary: “I’ll just be straight up about it,” Michael says, ignoring the groan Luke lets out. “We’re on vacation, and we talked about bringing someone back to the hotel room with us. Luke was interested in it being you.”

“If you wanted,” Luke adds on, finally lifting his head to see the amused interest playing through Ashton’s eyes. “Obviously we know nothing about you, and we probably shouldn’t be propositioning someone at the coffee shop, but…” Luke trails off, unsure where he was going with this.

“A threesome, that’s what you’re asking?” Ashton clarifies, wetting his lips.

Windows to the Soul (ao3) - ashtonism NR, 7k

Summary: where Ashton is a shy little fuck and the bad boy who hides behind black glasses and smokes in the bathroom catches his attention and suddenly Ashton wants to know everything about him.

you own me, you rattle my bones (ao3) - iambic_pulse E, 15k

Summary: Kink meme prompt: Luke wants to be used, roughed up and degraded but he also wants to be caressed and comforted and told how beautiful and good and perfect he is. At the same time. That's how he ends up with two doms: Ashton to treat him rough and Michael to comfort and encourage him with gentle kisses and sweet nothings.

[hime-memes]

                           • Shania Twain Lyric Starters •

Unfortunately, I am country at heart -- so, we have some starters from the lyrics of one of the most celebrated country singing queens on the planet ! ( Second only to Dolly Parton ! ) I’m talking about Shania Twain ! ( I mostly went with the greatest hits, with a few of my lesser known faves sprinkled in, and there is a vast variety of lyrics under the cut to choose from ! )  

As always: These have been modified for cohesive and sensical use for the general RPC. Feel free to change anything within these that you see fit to make it work for your muse & the receiver’s muse !

Recommended For: Any muses/plots/timelines.

Trigger Warnings For: Cheating, alcohol mentions, innuendo, light swearing

‘ From This Moment On ‘ “ From this moment; life has begun. “ “ From this moment; you are the one. “ “ Right beside you is where I belong ... from this moment on. “ “ I live only for your happiness. “ “ ... And for your love ? I'd give my last breath. “ “ I give my hand to you with all my heart ! “  “ I can't wait to live my life with you; I can't wait to start. “ “ You and I will never be apart. “ “ ... My dreams came true because of you ... “ “ As long as I live: I will love you, I promise you this. “ “ There is nothing I wouldn't give from this moment on. “ “ You're the reason I believe in love. “ “ ... You're the answer to my prayers from up above. “ “ All we need is just the two of us. “ ‘ You’re Still The One ‘ “ Looks like we made it ! “ “ Look how far we've come, [ insert petname ]. “ “ We mighta took the long way, but we knew we'd get there someday. “ “ They said, ‘ I bet they'll never make it ! ‘ ... “ “ Just look at us holding on. We're still together; still going strong ! “ “ You're still the one I run to. “ “ You’re the one that I belong to. “ “ You're still the one I want for life ! “ “ You're still the one that I love ... the only one I dream of. “ “ ... You're still the one I kiss goodnight. “ “ Ain't nothin' better; we beat the odds together. “ “ I'm glad we didn't listen: Look at what we would be missin' ! “  ‘ Man ! I Feel Like A Woman ! ‘ “ Let's go, girls ! “  “ I'm goin' out tonight, and gonna let it all hang out. “ “ I wanna make some noise: really raise my voice ! “  “ Yeah, I wanna scream and shout ! “  “ No inhibitions, make no conditions & get a little outta line ... “ “ I ain't gonna act politically correct: I only wanna have a good time ! “  “ The best thing about bein' a woman ? Is the prerogative to have a little fun ! “ " Oh yeah, go totally crazy ... forget I'm a lady ... “  “ Men's shirts, short skirts -- really go wild & ( yeah ), doin' it in style ! “  " I’ll get in on the action, maybe feel the attraction ... “ “ I’ll color my hair, do what I dare -- I wanna be free to feel the way I feel. “ “ Man, I feel like a woman ! “  “ The girls need a break. Tonight, we're gonna take the chance to get out on the town. “ “ We don't need romance. “ “ We only wanna dance. “ “ We're gonna let our hair hang down. “ ‘ Honey, I’m Home ‘ “ The car won't start, it's falling apart ! “  “ I was late for work and the boss got smart ... “ “ My pantyline shows; I got a run in my hose ... My hair went flat ! ( Man, I hate that ! “ “Just when I thought things couldn't get worse: I realized I forgot my purse ! “ “ With all this stress I must confess, this could be worse than PMS. “ “ This job ain't worth the pay ! “ “ Can't wait till the end of the day ... “ “ Hey, honey, I'm on my way ! “  “ Honey, I'm home and I had a hard day ... “ “ Pour me a cold one -- and oh, by the way ... ! “ “ Rub my feet, gimme something to eat ... Fix me up my favorite treat ! “ “ Honey, I'm back: my head's killing me ! I need to relax and watch TV. “ “ Get off the phone an’ give the dog a bone ! “ “ I broke a nail opening the mail -- I cursed out loud 'cause it hurt like hell. “ “ This job's a pain, it's so mundane: it sure don't stimulate my brain ... “ “ Oh, rub my neck will you ? “ “ Oh, that feels much better ! “ ‘ That Don’t Impress Me Much ‘ “ I've known a few guys who thought they were pretty smart, but you've got being right down to an art. “ “ You think you're a genius: you drive me up the wall ! “ “ You're a regular original, a know-it-all ... “ " You think you're special ... oh, you think you're something else ! “ “ ... OK, so you're a rocket scientist ? “ “ That don't impress me much. “ “ So you got the brains, but have you got the touch ? “ “ Now, don't get me wrong, I think you're alright -- but that won't keep me warm in the middle of the night. “ “ I never knew a guy who carried a mirror in his pocket & a comb up his sleeve, ‘just in case‘ ! “ “ ... And all that extra-hold gel in your hair oughtta lock it; 'Cause Heaven forbid, it should fall outta place ... “ “ OK, so you're Brad Pitt ? “ “ So you got the looks, but have you got the touch ? “ “ You're one of those guys who likes to shine his machine ... “ “ You make me take off my shoes before you let me get in ! “ “ I can't believe you kiss your car good night ! Now, c'mon, baby, tell me ? ... You must be jokin', right ? “ “ OK, so you've got a car ? That don't impress me much. “ “ So you got the moves, but have you got the touch ? “ " That won't keep me warm on a long, cold, lonely night ... “ “ OK. So, what do you think ? You're Elvis or something ? “ “ Whatever ... That don't impress me. “ ‘ Love Gets Me Every Time ‘ “ Life was going great ! “  “ Love was gonna have to wait -- I was in no hurry, had no worries. “ “ Staying single was the plan, I didn't need a steady man. “ “ I had it covered, 'til I discovered ... that love gets me every time ! “ “ My heart changed my mind. “ “ And I gol' darn gone and done it ! “ “ I guess I fell in love. “  “ Must've been the way he walked ... or his sweet, sweet talk. ” “ I was quite content; Just a-payin' my own rent. “ “ It was my place: I needed my space ! “ “ I was free to shop around, in no rush to settle down. “ “ It's in the way he calls my name ... “ “ -- And I know I'll never be the same ! “ ‘ Don’t Be Stupid, ( You Know I Love You ) ‘ “ You're so complicated ! “ “ You hang over my shoulder when I read my mail ... I don't appreciate it ! “ “ When I talk to other guys, you think they're on my tail. “ “ I get so aggravated when I get off the phone & I get the third degree ! “ “ I'm really feelin' frustrated ! “ “ Why don't you take a pill & put a little trust in me ? ... And you'll see ! “ “ Don't freak out until you know the facts, relax. “ “ Don't be stupid, you know I love you ! “ “ Don't be ridiculous, you know I need you ! “  “ Don't be absurd, you know I want you ! ” “ ... Don't be impossible ... “ “ I'm mad about you ! “ “ I can't live without you ! “ “ I'm crazy 'bout you ... “ “ Stop overreacting ! “ “ You even get suspicious when I paint my nails ! “  “ It's definitely distracting the way you dramatize every little small detail. “ ‘ Up ! ‘ “ It's 'bout as bad as it could be ! “ “ Seems everybody's buggin' me. “ “ Nothing wants to go my way, it just ain't been my day -- nothin's comin' easily ! “ “ -- Even my skin is acting weird ! “ “ I wish that I could grow a beard ... “ “ Then, I could cover up my spots: Not play connect the dots ... I just want to disappear ! “ “ It can only go up from here ! “ “ Even something as simple as forgettin' to fill up on gas ... there ain't no explanation why things like that can make you cry. “ “ Just gotta learn to have a laugh. “ “ When everything is goin' wrong: don't worry, it won't last for long ! “ “ Yeah, it's all gonna come around. Don't go let it get you down ! “ “ You gotta keep on holding on ! “ ‘ I’m Gonna Getcha Good ‘  “ I don't wantcha for the weekend ... don't wantcha for a night. I'm only interested if I can have you for life ... “ “ I know I sound serious -- & baby, I am. “ “ You're a fine piece of real estate, and I'm gonna get me some land ... “  “ So, don't try to run, honey ! “ “ Love can be fun ! There's no need to be alone when you find that someone. “ “ I'm gonna getcha while I gotcha in sight. “ “ I'm gonna getcha if it takes all night ! “ “ You can betcha by the time I say ‘ Go ! ‘, you'll never say ‘ No ’.  “ I'm gonna getcha, it's a matter of fact. “ “ I'm gonna getcha, don't you worry 'bout that ! “ “ You can bet your bottom dollar in time, you're gonna be mine ! “ “ Just like I should, I'll getcha good ! “ “ I've already planned it. Here's how it's gonna be: I'm gonna love you & you're gonna fall in love with me. “ “ I'm gonna knock on wood -- I'm gonna getcha somehow, honey ... Yeah, I'm gonna make it good ! “  ‘ Forever & For Always ‘ “ I can hear your heartbeat -- I can hear it beating now. “ “ In your arms: I can still feel the way you want me when you hold me. “ “ I can still hear the words you whispered when you told me: ‘ I can stay right here forever in your arms ‘ ... “ " There ain't no way I'm lettin' you go now. “ “ I'll never see that day. “ “ 'Cause I'm keepin' you forever and for always ! “  “ We will be together all of our days. I wanna wake up every mornin' to your sweet face, always ! “ “ In your heart: I can still hear a beat for every time you kiss me. “ “ ... And when we're apart, I know how much you miss me ! “ “ I can feel your love for me in your heart. “ “ In your eyes, I can still see the look of the one who really loves me ... “ “ The one who wouldn't put anythin' else in the world above me ...  “ “ I can still see your love for me in your eyes ! “ ‘ Ka - Ching ! ‘ “ We live in a greedy little world, that teaches every little boy and girl to earn as much as they can possibly, then turn around and spend it foolishly ! “ “ We've created us a credit card mess. We spend the money that we don't possess ! “ “ Our religion is to go and blow it all ! So, it's shopping every Sunday at the mall ... “ “ All we ever want is more ! ( A lot more than we had before ) ... “ “ So, take me to the nearest store ? “ “ Can you hear it ring ? “ “ It makes you want to sing ! “ “ It's such a beautiful thing, ‘ ka-ching ‘ ! “ “ Lots of diamond rings -- the happiness it brings ? “ “ ... You'll live like a king with lots of money and things. “ “ When you're broke, go and get a loan: take out another mortgage on your home. “ “ Consolidate so you can afford to go and spend some more when you get bored. “ “ Dig deeper in your pocket -- Come on, I know you've got it -- Just dig deeper in your wallet ! “ ‘ It Only Hurts When I’m Breathing ‘ “ Hope life's been good to you since you've been gone ? “ “ I'm doin' fine now; I've finally moved on. “ “ It's not so bad, I'm not that sad ... I'm not surprised just how well I survived. “ “ I'm over the worst & I feel so alive ! “ “ I can't complain ... I'm free again. “ “ ... And it only hurts when I'm breathing. “ “ My heart only breaks when it's beating. “ “ My dreams only die when I'm dreaming. “ “ ... Don't think I'm lyin' 'round, cryin' at night ... “ “ There's no need to worry, I'm really alright ! “ “ I've never looked back as a matter of fact ... “ ‘ Whose Bed Have Your Boots Been Under ? ‘ “ Whose bed have your boots been under ? ” “ Whose heart did you steal I wonder ? “ “ This time did it feel like thunder, baby ? “ “ Don't look so lonely & don't act so blue -- I know I'm not the only girl you run to ! “ “ I know about your ‘ little Spanish flame ‘. “ “ I've seen you around with the redhead down the lane. “ “ Who did you run to & whose lips have you been kissin' ?! “  “ ... And whose ear did you make a wish in ? “ “ Is she the one that you've been missin', baby ? “ “ I heard you've been sneakin' around with [ NAME ] ... “ “ ... and what about that weekend with Miss Beverly Hills ? “ “ And I've seen you walkin' with long legs Louise ... “ “ ... And you weren't just talkin' last night with [ NAME ] ! “ “ So next time you're lonely don't call on me ! ( Try the operator, maybe she'll be free ! ) “ “ You better start talkin', or you better start walkin' ! “ ‘ Any Man of Mine ‘ “ This is what a woman wants ! “ “ Any man of mine better be proud of me & even when I'm ugly, he still better love me ! “ “ -- And I can be late for a date, that's fine ! ( But, he better be on time ! ) “  “ Any man of mine'll say it fits just right when last year's dress is just a little too tight. “ “ -- And anything I do or say better be okay when I have a bad hair day. “ “ If I change my mind, a million times: I want to hear him say ‘ yeah, I like it that way ’ ! “ “ Any man of mine better walk the line ... and better show me a teasin' squeezin' pleasin' kinda time ! “ “ I need a man who knows how the story goes ! “ “ He's gotta be a heartbeatin', fine treatin', Breathtakin', earthquakin' kind ! “ “ Well any man of mine better disagree when I say another woman's lookin' better than me ! “ “ -- And when I cook him dinner & I burn it black, He better say:  ‘ Mmm, I like it like that ! ‘ “  “ Any man of mine, wooLet me hear you say yeah (yeah), yeah (yeah) “ You gotta shimmy, shake, make the earth quake -- kick, turn, stomp, stomp, then you jump heel to toe, then do si do ! “ “ 'Til your boots want to break, 'til your feet and your back ache -- Keep it movin' 'til you just can't take anymore ... “ “ Come on everybody on the floor ! “ 

‘ Come On Over ‘ “ Get a life ! Get a grip ! Get away somewhere, take a trip ! “ “ Take a break ! Take control ! Take advice from someone you know ! “  “ Pull up a seat & take a load off your feet ! “ “ You can unwind & take a load off your mind ... “ “ Make a Wish ! Make a move ! Make up your mind: you can choose ! “  “ When you're up, or when you're down -- when you need a laugh come around ! “  “ Be a winner ! Be a star ! Yeah, be happy to be who you are ! “  “ Gotta be yourself ! Gotta make a plan ! Gotta go for it while you can ... “ “ Come on over & come on in ! “ ‘ ( If You’re Not In It For Love ) I’m Outta Here ‘ “ Mind if I sit down ? “ “ Can I buy you a round ? “ “ Haven't seen your face before are you new in town ? “ “ It's the same old line ... every time. “ “ Are you here alone ? “ “ Can I take you home ? “ “ Now every woman sees with every ‘ pretty please ‘ -- There's a pair of lyin' eyes & a set of keys. “ “ He says come be a star, ( in the back seat of my car ) ! “  “ Oh, but, baby slow down -- you're goin' way too far ... “ “ If you're not willin' to give it all you got ... ? “ “ If you're not in it for life ... ? ” “ If you're not in it for love ... ? “ Let me make it clear to you my dear: If you're not in it for love, I'm outta here ... “ “ Babe, I can change your world; make you a cover girl ! “ “ Yeah, you could be a beauty queen in a magazine. “ “ ‘ Now tell me, what's your sign ? ‘, oh, why always the same old line ? “ “ I'll be in number 409 if you change your mind ... “ ‘ No One Needs To Know ‘ “ Am I dreamin' or stupid ? -- I think I've been hit by cupid ! “ “ ... But, no one needs to know right now. “ “ I met a tall, dark and handsome man & I've been busy makin' big plans ! “ " I got my heart set, my feet wet -- But, he don't even know it yet. “ " I'll tell him someday, some way, somehow ! “ “ -- But, I'm gonna keep it a secret for now ... “ “ I want bells to ring, a choir to sing, the white dress, the guests, the cake, the car, the whole darn thing ! “  “ We'll have a little girl, a little boy, a little Benji -- we call Leroy ! “ “ ... And I'm not lonely anymore at night, & he don't know that only he can make it right ... “ “ I'm not dreamin' or stupid -- But, boy have I been hit by cupid ! “  ‘ You Win My Love ‘ “ I'm lookin' for a lover who can rev his little engine up ... “ “ He can have a '55 Chevy or a fancy little pick-up truck ! “  “ If he's got a cool Cadillac with a jacuzzi in the back -- I'm in ! “  “ 'Cause I'm a classy little chassis who's a-huntin' for a heart to win ! “ “ Oh, but if you want to win it -- there's no speed limit. Just go faster, faster, don't be slow ! Rev it up, rev it up 'til your engine blows ... ! “ “ You win my love ! “  “ You win my soul ! “  “ You win my heart ! “  “ Yeah, you get it all ... “  “ You make my motor run ! “  “ Yeah, you're number one. “ “ Oh, I'm a crazy little lady -- yeah, the kind you just can't slow down. “ “ I need a '65 cylinder racy little run around town ! “ “ I want a heartbreak Harley ... A full of steam dream machine ... Or just a little late night sexy long stretch limousine ! “

‘ Don’t ‘ “ Don't ! “  “ Don't you wish we tried ? “ “ Do you feel what I feel inside ? “ “ You know our love is stronger than pride ! “ “ Oh no, don't ... don't let your anger grow. “ “ Just tell me what you need me to know ... “ “ Please talk to me ! Don't close the door ! “ “ 'Cause I wanna hear you ... I wanna be near you. “ “ Don't fight, don't argue ! “  “ Give me the chance to say that I'm sorry ... “ “ Just let me love you: don't turn me away, don't tell me to go ! “ “ Don't give up on trust; don't give up on me ... on us ! “  “ If we could just hold on long enough -- ! “ “ We can do it ! We'll get through it ... “ “ Don't pretend that it's okay. We both know things won't get better that way ... “ “ Don't do something you might regret someday. “ ‘ Party For Two ‘  “ I'm having me a party ! “  “ I don't think I can come ... “ “ Uh, uh, this ain't just any kind of party ... ! “  “ Nah, I think I'll stay at home. “  “ Uh, oh, no - It's gonna be really, really hot ... “ “ Startin' to sound good ... “  “ I'm gonna put you on the spot ! “ “ Baby, maybe I should ? “ “ Yeah, there'll be lots of one - on - one ! “ “ Guess I could be there ... “ “ Come on and join the fun ! “  “ What should I wear ? “ “ I'll tell you that it: it doesn't matter what you wear, 'cause it's only gonna be you and me there ! “ “ I'm having a party, a party for two ! “  “ I ain’t invitin' nobody ... Nobody but you ! “ “ You'll be sexy in your socks ... ! “ “ We can polish the floors ... “ “ In case anybody knocks ? “ “ Let's lock all the doors ... “ “ Yeah ? All the things I'm gonna do ! I'm gonna do with you ... “ “ I want to try something new ! “ “ I want to try it, too ! “  “ That's all we really need. “ “ We're gonna party hearty - Just you and me ! “  “ Don't think about it now, don't even doubt it now ! “  “ It’s just you and me there ... “ “ That was great ! // Let's do it again ! “

[coldfanbou]

Mommy Has Needs

Mommy Eunbi time. Some slight self-degradation, some cheating at play. I don't know why so many of you were excited about this, but I hope you enjoy it.

Length 2.2K

Kwon Eunbi x M reader

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You felt unnaturally nervous today; you were going to meet Minju’s mom for the first time. Even though she tried to keep you calm, it had little effect. As Minju is about to open the door, it’s pulled open by her mom Eunbi. You can’t help but stare at her ample bust as she stands there. 

“Hi honey, is this your little boyfriend I’ve heard about?” She asks Minju

“Yeah, he is.”

“Well, it’s nice to meet you; my name is Eunbi, but just call me mommy.” Eunbi bows slightly, giving you a good look at her cleavage. Your mouth drops a little at sight before you. 

“B-but”

“But nothing,  I don’t mind it at all. I want you to call me mommy.”  She says as she stands up. You agree to her wishes to cut the conversation short and move inside with Minju. 

“Sorry about my mom; she can be a bit… forceful.” 

“Don’t worry about it, though calling her mommy will take a while to get used to.” Your conversation is interrupted as you hear Eunbi calling Minju. “Minju! Can your boyfriend help me get the big pan? Your father put it on the high shelf again.” She asks if you’re okay with that, and when you agree, you head to the kitchen. As you peek your head into the kitchen, you see Eunbi on her tippy toes reaching up toward the highest shelf of the overhead cupboard. Eunbi notices you walk into the room and points to the pan she needs. “Can you reach it? As you can see, I’m a bit too short to get it.” Eunbi says as she stays in front of the cupboard; you get behind her, see the pan she’s talking about, and reach toward it. When you do, you have to take a step forward and end up pressed against her ass for a moment. Eunbi lets out a nearly inaudible moan as you grind against her when trying to reach for the pan. When you finally get it, you back away from Eunbi and hand it to her.

“Got it for you; it was back there,” you say with a sense of accomplishment. 

“Y-yes, thank you. You can go back to Minju. I’ll have dinner ready soon.” Eunbi says quickly as she fixes her hair. You and Minju spend time together watching TV and talking, waiting to be called for dinner. Soon enough, that call comes, and you head over to eat. You end up sitting across from Eunbi as Minju sits between you two. While you try to enjoy the meal, you can’t help but notice Eunbi staring at you. She looked as if she was spacing out, occasionally licking her lips. Generally speaking, it felt like she was looking at you as if you were prey. Minju tries to get a conversation going between all of you, but it always stalls out as it gets to Eunbi. The entirety of the dinner goes by like this. You’re happy when it’s finally over as you head back to Minju’s room. Eunbi stays down below to clean the dishes.  

“Sorry about dinner; I don’t know what’s with mom today. She was acting weird.” Minju tells you. 

“Yeah, it was a little awkward… but the food was good.”  You say, trying not to focus on what Eunbi was doing. It was time for you to leave as the evening turned to night. You ask Minju if you could use the bathroom before you go, and she tells you where it is.

Minju stands up and gives you a goodbye kiss. “I love you; get home safely, okay?”

“Of course.” You head towards the bathroom, and when you open the door, you’re greeted by the sounds of Eunbi moaning your name. A wall blocks you from seeing each other, but you can hear her moans echo as it bounces off the bathroom walls. 

“I’m such a bad mom thinking of Minju’s boyfriend like this. But it’s been so long since I’ve felt the touch of a man; it’s okay if I just touch myself while I think of him, right?” You hear Eunbi say to herself. You feel yourself grow hard, hearing her insinuate she wants you like that. Moments ago, you kissed Minju as she said she loved you, but right now, you couldn’t help but think solely about Eunbi. She was a beautiful woman, the perfect woman. She had those big tits, a tiny waist, toned abs, and a fantastic ass you felt rubbing against you earlier.  You close the door before you unbuckle your pants, letting them fall to your ankles as you turn the corner to face her, stroking your cock as you do so. On the other side, Eunbi is naked, sitting on the toilet as she fingers herself. While one hand plays with her pussy, the other pulls on her nipple as she tries to get the most pleasure possible. Eunbi’s mouth goes wide as your eyes meet, but she can’t seem to get a word out. Her eyes fall to your erect cock, before she looks back up. Stepping closer to her, you trace her lips with the head of your cock.

“Mommy, I heard what you said, and I need your help with my cock. Can you help me?” You say, teasing her.

“I can help you with that, baby,” She responds. Eunbi stuck her tongue out a little, following the head of your cock as you continued to trace her lips. You press your cock into her mouth, getting just the head inside for now. Eunbi wraps her lips around your cock; her tongue swirls around your head before taking slow licks over the top. The head of your cock wasn’t enough for her, though Eunbi started bobbing her head. Bringing in your cock easily, Eunbi would get to the base of your shaft and use her tongue to lick at your balls. The sound of her gurgling on your cock, only excited you as you grabbed her silky blonde hair, which was tied into pigtails. They would be the handles you used to facefuck her as you pushed her away before pulling her back in. Using Eunbi’s throat as you please, you saw a face of pure bliss as Eunbi took the opportunity to finger herself again. 

“Mommy’s just a little slut for cock, isn’t she? You love having your daughter’s boyfriend use you as a cocksleeve, don’t you?” Eunbi can only moan as you keep facefucking her. Her mouth covered your cock and her face in drool as your rapid thrusts threw back some of her spit. As Eunbi’s moans cause vibrations to hit your cock, you feel like you’re about to cum. Pulling her hair tight, you force her to take all of your cock as you pour your cum down her throat. While this is happening, Eunbi’s body spasms as she goes through her orgasm. As you pull out of Eunbi’s mouth, she grabs your cock and gives it a sloppy kiss.

“Your cock is even better than I imagined. My husband doesn’t even compare to this beast.” She says once she finally catches her breath. Eunbi puts your cock between her big tits and squeezes them around you. “Can my baby keep going? I need more than just a cock in my mouth.” You start bucking your hips into her cleavage as your answer. Eunbi smiles at your silent response. “That’s what I love to see.” Her pillowy tits felt great as your cock thrust through them. Eunbi would take the time to lean down and lick the head as it popped out the top of her cleavage. You throw your head back and feel your balls ready to unleash another wave of cum for Eunbi. As you start spurting out cum during your final thrusts, Eunbi opens her mouth, trying to get whatever cum she can. Most shots fly up and land on her tits, but a few stray shots paint her face. Eunbi uses her finger to get your cum and eat it, sucking her fingers clean. “It’s even better the second time, but I need it to go somewhere else now, baby.”  As she says that, Eunbi spreads the lips of her pussy, giving you a clear view of where she wants your cock. 

You pull her off of the toilet seat and take her place. “I want Mommy to ride me like the good whore she is.” Eunbi puts a hand on your shoulder as she positions herself above your cock; as she lowers herself onto it, she can’t help but moan the whole time. Her pussy stretches and molds itself into your shape, wrapping itself tightly around you. 

“I missed this feeling of having a cock in me. Thank you for giving this whore of a mommy your cock.” Eunbi wastes no time and starts bouncing on your cock; she does these long slow bounces at first, relishing in the feeling. Once she gets over that, she starts moving like a wild animal. Her arms are wrapped behind your neck as she presses her body against yours.  You have your hands running along her ass, sometimes giving it a hard slap causing her to let out a yelp each time. Eunbi separates her body from yours as her back arches; taking this opportunity, you pinch her nipples and pull them lightly, drawing out more moans from her. Eunbi starts grinding herself on your cock, her shifting walls sending waves of pleasure crashing over you.  “Oh, that’s it; pull my nipples! Make me cum on your cock; pour your cum into my pussy!” Eunbi yells out as she nears her orgasm. She starts bouncing on your cock quicker than ever. 

As you both near your climax, you tell her, “Mommy, I’m going to cum” 

“So am I. Let’s cum together! Oh fuck I’m cumming!” She yells out as she slams herself down on your cock one last time. Your seed floods into her pussy, as you feel your biggest load yet unleash itself. Your cum slowly starts to leak out of Eunbi while your cocks is still snuggly inside her. As both lean against each other, Eunbi lifts your head and kisses you. You feel her tongue snakes its way into your mouth. As she pulls back, she says, “That was fantastic, baby; I don’t think I can live without your cock. It’s been so long since I’ve been fucked like that.” Eunbi cups your cheek. “I can’t go back to life without your cock; how about you and me keep this a secret from Minju? You can fuck me wherever and whenever you want. There’s no limit; any hole you want, I’ll give it to you. I just need you to fuck me.” You agree with Eunbi; you’ll fuck her secretly while maintaining your relationship with Minju. Eunbi gets off your cock, and you see your cum fall onto the floor as she turns around. Looking at her ass, you grab her waist and pull her back down. “What are you doing?” 

“You said whenever, wherever, any hole. I want your asshole right here, right now.” A sly smile makes its way over Eunbi’s face as she grabs your cock, and presses the head against her puckered asshole. 

“Do it, baby, fuck my ass. You’ll be the first in there; my husband's tiny dick wouldn’t make me feel anything back there, so I never let him use it.” With your hands on her waist, you pull her onto your cock driving it deep into her ass. The two of you let out loud moans as the sudden pleasure nearly causes you both to cum immediately. You both take a minute to recover before starting properly; each thrust becomes easier as your cock coats her anal walls with your cum and her juices. As you buck your hips to push deeper, you grab one of her tits, squeezing it in your hand. “Does baby love mommy’s tits? You can use them anytime you want; just keep fucking me like this,” Eunbi moans out. “Fuck, my ass feels so good, I may get addicted to this. Anal feels so good,” She says as she cums, her juices squirting onto the floor below. You keep thrusting into her ass, keeping one of your hands on her tits; your free hand goes into Eunbi’s pussy. Curling your fingers inside her, Eunbi starts to moan louder than before, “Oh fuck, baby, you’re so good, you’re so good! Cum inside my ass; please make it yours! My ass is only for you, please, please, please cum inside!” She screams as she feels your cock pulse inside of her ass. You stand and bend her over in one smooth motion; your final thrusts are rough as your cum rushes into her awaiting asshole. Eunbi collapses onto the floor as you pull out of her. You turn her over onto her back and stroke your cock coaxing a few spurts of cum out and onto her face. 

“Thank you for helping me, mommy. I’ll make sure to give you all the cock you need.” You pull up your pants and leave Eunbi on the bathroom floor as cum pools around her lower half.

[ohwowimlonley]

DAY NINETEEN

Luke Alvez + marking kink

[warnings - fem!reader, possessive!luke? I guess, not actually in depth smut, marking kink]

[word count - 540]

[kinktober list]

Luke isn’t the most avid of smilers. He never really has been. Although, he’s also never really been a massive frowner either; almost hovering in between the two.

However, now he’s inexplicably scowling at you, eyes fixed at the base of your neck and collarbones. You pretend not to notice, keeping your gaze set on the movie playing on the tv and subtly tugging the neckline of your spaghetti strap top up to cover the skin he seems so fixated on.

Minutes later, he’s still watching you, eyes burning a whole through your soul. You give up, slapping your hands to your knees and turning to him with an exaggerated grunt.

“What is it?” He blinks, averts his eyes from you, acting as if he wasn’t just staring at you for more than the last thirty minutes. You roll your eyes, shuffling closer to him until you’re close enough to grip his chin, forcing him to meet your eyeline, “Luke, you’ve been gawking at me for the past God knows how long, tell me why you’re acting like a cock or I’ll- I’ll- I’ll send you to bed early! I’ll- you have to do all the washing up for a week!”

“I was just-” he sighs, bites his bottom lip and looks up at you like a lost puppy dog, “m’sorry, love. Just-”

He makes a vague gesture to your exposed neck.

“Luke. Context.” You demand, fighting the urge to roll your eyes.

“Shit- yeah, yeah m’sorry,” he shakes his head to himself, clearing his throat and starting over, “I- uh, it’s just,”

You soften a tad, knowing that Luke can’t always express himself in the ways he wants to. Reaching across, you card a hand through his thick tresses of hair, scratching at his scalp to calm him down. He leans into the comfort, drawing in a calming breath.

“It’s just,” he pulls you closer to him, nosing along the underside of your jaw, a whine tumbling from his plump lips, “you’ve been going round all week, ‘nd all of- all of them are gone,”

“Oh,” you gasp. A sly smirk works its way across your face, “oh, you miss my marks, baby?”

A short pause. A slow, shy nod.

“Wanna make more?” You pull back ever so slightly, just so you can catch a glimpse of his lust-blown eyes, before pressing a sweet peck to the corner of his mouth.

“Yeah,” he breathes out shakily, “wanna- wanna make you mine,”

You practically melt at the sentiment, biting your lip to hold back a surprised whimper. Unable to stop yourself, you swing your thigh over his lap, landing yourself astride his thighs.

“Go on then, baby,” you coo down to him, tangling a steadying hand around the back of his head, urging him closer to your bare, unmarked keck, “show ‘em who I belong to,”

You don’t need to tell him twice; his lips latching onto your sensitive skin and giving an almighty suck. As a reflex, your fingers grip tighter around the nape of his neck, no doubt staining the skin with half-moon crescents. You can almost feel the blood rising to the very top layer of your skin, marring it to mark you as his.

Just his.

Taglist - @meadowscarlet @samiam0907 @jessmooneya @tiredmf @baddiewivdafattie @art3mas @bella-738 @aphrodites-flowers @alexloveskili @downbadforvecna @dcwrites1 @masterofmunsonspuppets @youreyesaretherealtruthtellers @m-rae23 @rubesred @visionsgoodgirl @loudwombatmugkid @garfieldsladybird @rubes2323 @maddy-potter @trixcate @depressedjoey @sunnysolsstuf @clover723 @anamariel2301 @01-angela @kozumewhore @britlord @zemossugarbaby @bunnyweasley23 @slashersluttt @ilovejimhopper

[emletish-fish]

The Lawrence-Diazes in season 5 Or what I would have done instead of karate-baby arc.

Baby plots, eh?

No shade meant to anyone who does enjoy them, but they are very rarely my cup of tea. They can occassionally be done well, and they often come at the very end of a narrative (which I guess is a clear sign that Cobra Kai intends to wind down after season 6).

Pregnancy/Future Baby plots normally are about giving a character a typical ‘nuclear family’ happy ending. (This also a very Christian American outlook, and Cobra Kai is uniquely american in many respects. But as a non-american and non-christian, the nuclear family thing doesn’t always connect emotionally with me.)

Babies in TV are normally used as a blank slate or tabula rasa. They symbolise a hopefully better future  - and I get why the writers would want to give Johnny these things, because they do love him as a character.

But I think this might be a case of the writer’s pet, or the writer’s enjoying a character too much - because they are giving Johnny what he Wants, rather than what he Needs. 

Johnny may want a blank page, but what he really needs is to look at what has already been written (accept his mistakes) and then figure out how to make a better ending  - just like that therapist lady said to Kreese (Johnny’s template that he rebels against and succumbs to emulating).

Damn, I love mirror story-telling motifs.

Johnny’s Wants Vs Needs - Let’s go!

Look, just to get it out of the way  -  The last thing Johnny really needs is another kid.  He’s already got two beautiful boys.

Also Johnny really needs therapy, rehab, parenting classes and gainful, secure employment  - like there is a lot that dude actually needs, but that won’t be the focus of this meta.

(That is a whole can of worms on its own).

All that aside, let’s look at what the baby-plot with Johnny is for? What is the purpose narratively?

It’s crucial in several ways.

It serves as a motivation for Johnny to try and get his shit together and clean up his act/get a job.

It completely grounds and focuses Johnny’s story this season on family.

It is dropped on Robby and Miguel after they’ve reconciled to solidify the fact that they are going to be a family and therefore MUST get along.

It is used as an excuse for everyone to go out and celebrate and get drunk (and the party limo shenanigans)

It is used as motivation for Johnny to take out the room of baddies in ep 10.

But...Robby could have been used for pretty much all of these narrative functions.  I’m way more invested in Robby and his happiness than I am in a plot-contrivance fetus.

(Sorry fetus, but you are a plot contrivance to me until proven otherwise. I’ll see what happens next season, but so far my reaction is best summarised by anoush’s sarcastic ‘congrats on procreating’.)

Motivation for Johnny  -

Johnny and Robby just reconciled! Like, they’ve just had this really fun roadtrip,  They got some great stories, got into shenanigans together and had a little adventure together. Some of their issues have been aired but not really dealt with in depth. We haven’t seen them really tackle the elephant in the room regarding their issues - but Robby has made it clear that he wants and needs his Dad in his life.

Imagine if Johnny took this olive branch as the amazing thing it is, and decided he wanted to be more present for his already existing teenage son and turn his life around for Robby’s sake.

 I’d also like for him to realise that he needs to set a better example for both boys because they both need him and look up to him. (Like they’ve both come to him crying and needing dad-reassurance? Neither of them are subtle about how they need Johnny to step into the dad role.) 

Imagine him trying to get a good job so he can better support the boys? Imagine him trying to fix up his apartment so it’s nicer for when Robby comes to stay?

Imagine how much more impactful Johnny’s conversation with Lyle could have been if it was centred around Johnny trying to learn to provide for the two existing teenagers who already need him and learning how to put their needs first?

Lowkey how touched and validated would Robby be if his Dad started making this effort explicitly for him? I think it would ease a lot of his conflict if he finally got treated like he was someone’s priority.

I also think I would help explain his relative chillness in other areas, if his main source of emotional turmoil was being so clearly tended to?

Also wanting to be a better dad to Robby has been Johnny’s Want and Need from the beginning of season 1, so.... you know, follow-through on story arcs and narrative pay off etc etc.

Centering the narrative on family -

I always kinda figured Johnny learning to balance both Robby and Miguel would be a challenge for him, but this was glossed over pretty quickly by the discovery of the baby - which narratively forces both boys into a family situation and they both kinda stop giving Johnny push-back over that from that point on.

but instead imagine if the time was spent on creating a more solid found family vibe? A situation where Robby and Miguel don’t need the spectre of a future half-sibling to get along, but they genuinely connect and feel like brothers of choice?

I love the olive garden and the lame-ass escape room. Dude even roped Rosa into it and I loled. that was all great - I would take a whole episode of this idiot trying to get Robby and Miguel to bond - and how hilarious would it have been if the thing they initially agreed on was how dumb Johnny’s escape room was?

They didn’t need a baby to seal the deal so to speak, when they already share custody of a moron.

I would have preferred it if after Robby and Miguel talk it out on the balcony, Johnny is overly-excited to celebrate them burying the hatchet. I would have him do something off-the-wall like take both the boys to disneyland or whatever. They will bitch and moan about how lame he is (but secretly neither of them have been to disneyland and are actually super excited too.)

I’d have a fun scene or two in disneyland, they boys jointly roast Johnny and discover they actually have a simmilar sense of humor. Maybe the fact fighting over this idiot was the main reason for their antagonism towards each other could be vaguely alluded to. We could see the start of their emerging friendship. They’d take a picture with all three of them and we’d still get our hug.

I would prefer this to PC fetus tbh.  Even though we don’t get a baby, a blended family where everyone gets along because they genuinely like eachother and have dealt with their issues  rather than because an accidental pregnancy forced them into the arrangement is just more emotionally satisfying for me personally.

This season, where the importance of children, biological children was really hammered - it feels like PC Fetus was a shortcut to creating a ‘real’ nuclear family. (At the expense of spending the narrative time to establish a more durable found family).  

Like, I’m completely okay with a blended family for Johnny and I don’t think he needs to have a kid with Carmen to make it a ‘more real’ family.

An excuse for everyone to go out and get drunk and celebrate?

Hello, they just won the sepai taki or whatever. That is reason enough. I love the party limo posse and we can still have that.  Just let them celebrate their incredible achievement and have some fun together? Louie can still get his limo guy and get in on the celebrations and everything else can still proceed as planned.

It is used as motivation for Johnny to take out the room of baddies in ep 10.

This is where I would use the disneyland photo instead of the ultasound photo for extra motivation, but otherwise the scene would play the same.  Sprinkle in a bit of wisdom from Lyle (you’re doing it for them) and Chozen (It’s about what you are fighting for, not what you are fighting against) - and Johnny coming to place where he really wants to fight to keep living because he wants to be there for Robby and Miguel. He wants to be present and be a dad for them and have a future?  He doesn’t want to die and leave them.

I would have been in buckets of tears - like that shit legit gets me.

So yeah, that is what I would do instead of PC Fetus. 

All that said, PC Fetus is my only quibble with what was otherwise a pretty strong season. (It was a wild ride and so much fun).  And my biggest complaint is that it is unnecessary narratively because all the functions of PC Fetus can be done by Robby and/or Miguel.

Johnny worked though a lot of his issues because of approaching PC Fetus this season, but PC Fetus is a blank slate. I feel it would have been more impactful if Johnny worked through his issues with Robby - where he has definitely made mistakes - and begun to really make it up to that kid and accept and grown into his fatherhood role to Robby and Miguel. 

I dunno, I just think that would have been more healing for all of them, but especially for both Robby and Johnny.

It also would have added so much extra depth to Johnny’s final rejection of Kreese. (Rejecting the source of his toxic masculinity which led him to have so many fuck-ups in the fatherhood department - yes please).

I’m not even opposed to Johnny and Carmen having kids in the future, but I would have preferred PC Fetus not take up so much narrative space.  Like, PC fetus can be tacked at the end of season 6 and I’d have no issue with it. I guess the writers felt like they needed to give Johnny a ‘motivation’ to really turn his life around, and PC Fetus is what they went with....

but like, the man already has two boys who need him, who have both broken down recently in his arms -  partly due to his actions?  And he loves them both so much? Couldn’t that be motivation enough for him to try and be better?

As always, YMMV and this is just my interpretation.

[imfkinconfusedbro]

print('hello, world!') | Ashtray x Reader Platonic

Author's note: This one is about hacking and coding and stuff so anything that isn't common knowledge Ill have listed below with an explanation. To Be honest, I only know a little bit about this stuff so yeah. Hope yall enjoy!

python - a computer language (like java, java script, c++, etc)

print('hello, world!') - beginner string of code in python used when first learning

nmap - a security program used to scan networks

backdoor - basically a back door to bypass security within a system to secure remote access

masterlist

“You hackin or somethin?” Ash questioned, hovering over my shoulder.

“Technically yes.”

“What do you mean technically? It's a yes or no.”

“What I’m doing is ethical hacking. They hired me to try to hack into their system so they know if there are any weaknesses that they can fix before someone else does it illegally.” I explained.

He silently nodded, pulling up a chair. “So how do you know what you’re looking for?”

“Ok so first I need to know as much as possible about the system I intend to hack. I use nmap which basically scans everything. Then when I find the weak spots, I try to exploit them. Once I'm in, I wanna maintain access to the system so I install backdoors.”

“Why do you wanna maintain access? I thought it was like a one and done thing?” Ash asked.

“If you were gunna hack someone for money, would you want to get in their shit once and that's it or would you want to be able to access it again if they don't pay up? You have to remember once you tell them I hacked you, passwords are changing and security is gunna be upped. You wanna be in there before that happens.”

“I gotchu so after you install back doors then what?”

“That's the part I’m working on now. I'm clearing my tracks. I don't want any evidence of an attack left behind. One sign of an attack and that's it for the attack, security is upped before a ransom is ever talked about. The whole point is basically to act like a hacker that is exploiting the system for personal gain. Then I write up a report and send it to the cyber security department and they gotta take care of whatever weaknesses I found.”

“How’d you get into this shit?”

“I was a kid like you who spends too much time on the computer doin shit I shouldn’t be doing. I developed a knack for it so I figured I might as well go to school for it and make money off it.” I answered.

“You wanna teach me?” He asked.

“Ill teach you but under one condition.”

Ash sighed. “What is it?”

“Nothing illegal. I don't want the feds busting down my front door.”

“Fine. I promise I won't do nothin illegal.” He responded, pinky held out.

I smiled, linking my pinky with his.

“I’ll be right back.” I said, getting up to get a book from Fez’s room.

I handed the book over. “You have to start with the basics. This book is really good and I wrote lots of little notes in there for myself so start with this. It's basically just about coding and learning python. It will teach you how to do little projects to get a feel for it.”

He eagerly took the book, mumbling a thanks as he went to his room.

That was almost a year ago and boy has Ash learned quick. He is pretty good for being so new at it. He recently started learning how to hack which Fez has become a victim of. Ash’s first project was a device connected to the tv that allows him to remotely turn it on and off whenever he pleases. Ash made it when he was mad at Fez and he has been enjoying fucking with his big brother.

“Babee please tell him to knock it off.” Fez begged, trying to relax on the couch.

I couldn’t help but giggle. I didn’t think he would get into it as much as he did. But Ash knew better than to try it with me. I was still more experienced than he was and had no issues hacking his computer. I knocked on Ash’s door before entering.

“Listen, I love that you’ve been having fun with this and I know you’re annoyed with your brother but please stop messing with the tv.”

”Okay okay.” He smirked. “Wanna see how it works?”

“You bet your ass I do.”

[frostedfaves]

Naive (3)

Masterlist

Pairing: demon!Wanda Maximoff x fem!reader

Summary: You pick up on the lies in Wanda’s life and she decides to show you the truth.

Warnings: 18+ ONLY, dark!fic, demon things™️, more hints at dom/sub because I’m a whore for demon!Wanda

A/N: I can’t believe that it’s been a month since I posted the last one 😭 I have some things planned for the next part and so on but I also kinda wanna take requests again??? idk we all know how I get overwhelmed easily with that so we’ll see what happens there. anyway tell me your thoughts on this please!

Previous part

Waking up feels like gasping for air after being trapped underwater. You aren’t sure how long you were asleep, but the mid afternoon traffic quickly alerts you of how much of the day has passed. 

Despite your head feeling like it’s made of cement, you manage to stand up, slipping off thin pajamas as you walk into the bathroom and stop at the mirror. Your skin seems tender in places and you’re a little bit startled when there isn’t a single indication of the bite marks and scratches you feel, even after rubbing your eyes a few times and turning in every direction possible. Deciding to let it go for now, you reach for the shower stall to turn on the water, detouring to the bedroom instead when you hear your phone ringing.

“Hello?”

“You didn’t save my number, did you?”

“Wanda?” You pull the phone away long enough to quickly clear your throat. “I mean hey, Wanda! What makes you think I didn’t save your number?”

“You answered like you didn’t know who was going to be on the other end.”

“Okay, you caught me,” you admit after a moment of silence. “I promise I’ll save it as soon as we hang up. Anyway, what’s up?”

“Remember that pet adoption center you pointed out to me?” You acknowledge her with a hum. “I was thinking about getting a cat…Wanna tag along?”

“Absolutely! I was just about to shower though so I can be ready in an hour or so.”

“Perfect! I’ll text you when I’m outside.”

The two of you say your goodbyes and you keep your promise of saving her number, typing in her name and hesitating on the emoji keyboard. Realizing you’d spent far too much time contemplating this, you simply save what you have and hurry back to the bathroom, something in your brain urging you to not keep her waiting.

-

Within an hour, she sends you a text in all caps and a smiley face that tells you she’s arrived, and you can’t hide the fact that you’re surprised when you come outside and she’s waiting on the passenger side of the car.

“Hey! How are you?” she greets cheerily as she approaches you with a hug, and you shiver when her hand touches your lower back. “Are you cold?”

“No, I’m okay.” You smile and thank her when she opens the door for you, attempting to collect yourself as she crosses to the driver’s side again. “I’m really happy to see you again.”

“You are?”

“Yeah,” you admit quietly as she pulls away from the curb. “Is that such a bad thing?”

“No no, I just didn’t want to assume you were enjoying our time together as much as I was.”

She places her hand over yours while she glances at you, smiling as she squeezes your fingers and thigh lightly. You feel a rush of something traveling from the places she touched to your brain, only slightly aware of the fog settling in your mind.

“Well I didn’t want to be too enthusiastic about it and scare you away if all you wanted was friendship,” you clarify, meeting her eyes when she reaches a red light.

“I suppose you’re looking for more too, then.”

“I am now.”

The light turns green and she breaks eye contact, but the little smirk that follows tells you everything you need to know. At least, you hope it does.

-

“I think he’s the cutest one we’ve seen yet,” you comment about the kitten that hasn’t looked away from Wanda since you approached his area. “He seems really drawn to you, too.”

“How did he get the name ‘Baby Satan’?” Wanda inquires with an employee, who approaches you with a chuckle.

“It’s actually Baby Stan, because we used to have an adult cat named Stan as well and needed to tell the two apart. We were going to give him a new name but decided to leave that up to his new family.”

“It says ‘Baby Satan’ though,” you cosign with Wanda, gesturing to the extra A mixed in with the magnetic letters that spell the kitten’s name.

“Oh, I’m so sorry! I don’t know how that got there,” the employee apologizes as she reaches over to fix the sign, and you watch her freeze as Wanda touches her arm.

“Don’t be sorry. Keep it; I want to adopt him.”

“Okay, right this way,” the employee mumbles as she turns awkwardly and stumbles over to a desk, and as the two of you follow her, you look back to see Baby Satan still staring at the woman beside you.

“What was that about?” you speak up finally once you’re in the car with her new furry friend, and Wanda frowns at you while fastening her seatbelt.

“What?”

“Why did that employee react to you like that? You touched her and she started acting really weird after.”

“Oh, Kim’s fine!” she assures you as she fixes her mirror before pulling out of the parking lot. “I actually asked her about that while you were looking at scratching posts and she said I’d overstepped her boundaries and made her uncomfortable. Don’t worry, I apologized and everything’s good again.”

“She told you her name?”

“She was wearing a name tag, babe.”

Babe...that’s new. Still, the sudden nickname doesn’t completely distract you from the fact that you’re certain there was no name tag on Kim’s uniform. You’re debating with yourself about bringing this up when you notice her heading toward Lane County.

“Are you taking me to your house?”

“Yeah, if you don’t mind.” She glances at you and over her shoulder toward Baby Satan before turning back to the road. “I figured I could introduce both of my kittens to the place they’ll be spending a lot of time in.”

Her fingers brush over your knee as “my kittens” leaves her lips, and you’re almost embarrassed when your hips involuntarily buck slightly. Noticing the small change in your behavior, she takes advantage of your head turned toward your own window and allows her instincts to continue driving while she stares at you, placing her palm on your thigh and rubbing circles on the fabric covering it that brings her closer and closer to your core.

“Home, sweet home,” Wanda announces as she pulls her wandering hand away to park the car, jumping out a second later and grabbing her furry son from the backseat. “Hey there, Baby S.”

You step out of the car in a similar fashion of pulling yourself out of a swimming pool, taking in the fresh air and trying to relax yourself as you follow her into the apartment building. The hallways reflect the quiet and clean neighborhood as you make your way into the elevator and up to the 6th floor, suddenly entering the most empty apartment you’ve ever seen.

Of course there’s furniture: a couch with a TV mounted on the nearest wall, a dining table with a set of matching chairs, a few stools placed at the island and kitchen appliances that are shiny and new. But there isn’t any personal artwork, posters, books or even just a lamp that you could tell Wanda purchased herself with one glance.

“Are you staying in an AirBNB or something?” you ask as she carefully places Baby Satan’s carrier next to the couch, and she chuckles.

“I guess technically it was one before I moved in, but I’ve been here for two years.”

“Okay...so where are your pictures?”

“What?”

“Where are your pictures?” you repeat, maintaining a steady voice despite the expression she gives you as she faces you again. “Pictures of your family, friends, you as a child?”

“If you knew my family, you’d understand why you don’t see them here.” She startles you by practically growling her words but you press further.

“Okay but you also said you love plants and we’re the only living things in here.” You step back to put more space between you while quiet shuffling noises are heard inside the carrier. “What’s really going on here?”

You can easily spot the shift in Wanda’s emotions: going from defensive, arms crossed and eyes glaring to resigned with slightly sagging shoulders and a defeated sigh.

“Fine, you got me.” She bends over to pick up the carrier again and passes you on her way to the door, stopping a few feet away. “If you’re serious about pursuing a relationship with me, then I should probably show you my real home.”

“I don’t know...”

“Come on, love.” She comes just close enough to bring your hand into hers and a tingle spreads through your body, causing you to pull away but her grip only tightens. “I promise I’m not going to hurt you, and this is the only time I’ve lied.”

You find yourself being drawn closer to her, and an almost familiar feeling washes over you when her thumb begins rubbing gentle circles into your jaw. The metal on her ring is so cold it almost burns upon contact, yet you nuzzle into her more with each pass along your skin.

“Don’t you want to be good for me without being forced to your knees first?”

If the fog surrounding your consciousness wasn’t so thick, you might’ve been shocked by this side of her, so calm yet demanding you serve her. But the hand on your jaw seemed to cover every inch of your body and sink into your nervous system, forcing you to fall into her and let her lead you back to the car with a simple arm around your waist. You’re buckled into the passenger seat again and a slightly blurry grin greets you from behind the wheel seconds later.

“I can’t wait to make you mine.”

Your head falls against the car window as she drives to the edge of Lane County, and your altered vision picks up on businesses turning into isolated suburbs into grassy fields into forests. You travel along narrow, winding roads past the tallest of trees with very few spaces in between, and your hazy state of mind prevents you from panicking when Wanda turns onto a dirt path that doesn’t even seem to be safe for bicycles. The wheels bump along the forest floor until she comes to a stop just outside of a two foot dwelling, similar to a cave.

Once the two of you are out of the car again, she holds your hand with her free one until you reach the cave, instructing you to sit in front of it while she does the same. She places her palm on the door, and her rings seem to come alive as they interact with it for a few moments before it swings open and the three of you are sent flying through a tunnel. You land with a groan on the hard floor and dust yourself off as you carefully stand, any questions dying in your throat as you face Wanda again, now standing before you in her true form.

“Welcome home.”

[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.”

[worstloki]

Okay, this is gettin’ real screwed up here.

I watch a lot of TV. Probably too much. And I’ve seen characters beaten to their knees before, sometimes even with collars. And yeah, there’s usually someone standing over them, and it’s been a woman sometimes. The kind of scene we got in episode 5 of Loki is not new ground.

But here’s the thing. In EVERY OTHER SCENE I can remember like this, the person kneeling is the hero. They’ve been brought down, fully humbled before the sneering villain, and in a few minutes something will happen to get them back on their feet again. It’s usually a tense moment, a “what if they break?” that makes you want the hero to win. You aren’t rooting for, or even liking in some cases, the person standing. You’re cheering for the person on their knees.

This doesn’t seem to be the case with the Loki show. Yes, the viewers may be rooting for Loki, but there’s no hatred for Sif there. She’s not proved herself to be a cold, heartless villain, ruthlessly pounding the hero until all he can do is kneel at her feet.

Except…she did kind of do that. But it isn’t treated as something bad. It’s treated more as something Loki deserved, in my opinion. The show wants us to feel like he deserved to get repeatedly beaten up and told horrible things, just for cutting off a lock of Sif’s hair. I’ll grant, it’s peanuts compared to what happened to him in the mythology. But it’s still bad. Especially since they had him acknowledge it, repeat her cruel words back. They’re playing it off as if Loki is still the villain by himself, and is only good because of other people- Mobius, mostly, but Sif is part of that.

That’s not the way Loki’s character is. In the comics particularly, his biggest arcs are always about reinventing the labels given to him, changing “villain” into something good, something he can use, and doing it by himself. Yes, there’s outside influence, but ultimately Loki is the one who decided to change.

The show is not letting him do that. The show is portraying him as a stubborn jackass who refuses to change until other people show him the light- either with psychological torture presented as therapy, or with beating him up a bunch of times until he gives in. The show and its characters are forcing Loki to become good- they aren’t showing him doing it by himself. He is not becoming one of the good guys, he’s being essentially enslaved by them, and the show is passing it off as somehow all that good influence finally rubbed off on Loki’s cold, villainous heart. That’s why him betraying Mobius was shown as so bad even though Loki barely knew him and had been psychologically tortured by him- Mobius is written as a character who can choose to be good, and Loki is written as a character who must be forced to be good.

And something about an entire show revolving around an independent character being treated as a villain, literally enslaved by the “good guys” (back when the show still wanted us to think the TVA weren’t shady as all hell), beaten to his knees with a collar around his neck until he accepts that he deserves to be alone because he isn’t “good” like everybody else…that doesn’t go down right for me.

The TVA being presented in not just a neutral but often reliable light is something I thought would change once Loki literally called out their propaganda and Sylvie called them fascists, but, for some reason the authoritarian genocidalists are not being presented as a bad thing and it irks me too.

It's especially weird because of the way what Loki claims to have wanted by making choices for people and what Mobius claims the TVA do ARE THE EXACT SAME THINGS, except Loki, until the show, hadn't done that of his own volition and was being tortured during the invasion and is treated terribly for something he didn't even succeed in doing, while the TVA successfully erase events on a mass scale but are presented as having a higher (or at best, - equal) moral ground.

The exact same thing was done in Ragnarok where Loki's "turning point" from a tricksy villainous scoundrel happened because Thor left him frying on the ground and gave him a pep talk filled with lies and general slander about how he could be better - and people see that as good because Thor is framed as a hero, and it's because instead of accepting Loki is a complex character they take what the narrative tells at face value and that is that Loki fights the protagonist(s) so he's bad.

I personally don't like the narrative pushing a character that is canonically an abuse victim and attempted suicide and was tortured right after as someone who needs fixing because he's lusting for power and needs it to gain a sense of control during a retcon which is occurring for the sake of calling him a complete bad guy who needs to change (probably because no actual original character development could be thought of?) after he was just confirmed as queer and colloquially (i assume) called a narcissist because of twisted love.

That he deserves to be alone was presented neutrally as a joke even as he was repeatedly getting beaten to the ground, and then both people he could call friends were removed from his immediate vicinity right after.

Loki isn't being presented as a character that has done a huge mix of good and bad in the movies, he's being presented as an oft incompetent idiot that deserves what he gets because he shouldn't have run away from captors, or he cut Sif's hair, or he killed his mother, or he dared to think he had any importance or could do something good, because the truth is he's an evil lying scourge.

"But maybe," Mobius says, "Maybe he wants to mix it up. Sometimes you get tired of playing the same part. Is that possible? He can change?" And everyone's already forgotten that moments before the mission Mobius said to Loki's face that the TVA has pruned a lot of Loki variants because he's so nice! look! he has hope in him when no one else does! It's also easy to forget the "and hey, if it doesn't work, I'll delete him myself," right after because the guy was smiling through it and the scene is followed by Loki really badly trying to explain the logic of being a trickster who everyone knows is a trickster.

A lot of people payed more attention in Ragnarok than to the other Thor movies so it's not a new retcon and people seem fine with the extremely strange take that 'loki is bad but he can do good sometimes,' because the character is more animated and acts foolish and that's generally more fun for comedy, which is fair for people to prefer imo, people find different things entertaining.

But I do solidly hope the show doesn't go that way though and takes a side with Loki on the narrative stance eventually because I've seen a lot of people who just. miss that the TVA's concept is bad. And those who think they're "reforming" Loki. As if the guy needs anything but a break at this point lmao he only got away from Thanos like 2 days ago please just let him rest for a bit he's a fail villain and it's cringe to have your supposed 1st open queer character get beaten to a pulp by Sif and then put wack sexualizing shots for it too :/

it's like the show itself is trying to sell the angle of "Loki is a villain" and I'm a clown who is still wanting that to be intentional because if it is? It could be amazing and playing with how different parties are framed would be s p e c t a cu l ar and could encourage people to reassess the hero coding in other movies including ones Loki was previously in - but we're reaching the last two episodes and I don't feel like that'll happen.

I feel like even if Loki does reach the end of the show as a transformed person it'll be done leaving the audience with "perhaps you're not so bad after all, Loki," and then also give credit to Mobius or Sylvie or whoever else was involved, simply because as even of yet Loki hasn't taken on a lead role in the show. I'd argue he hasn't really contributed anything worthwhile to plot either. As you've said, he's being shown as someone who needs to change but isn't really motivated to. Aw man they better not make romantic love the reason he wants to change.

[wizkiddx]

your voice

angsty vibe, requested by @hollandlover19 than you for th rq and hop this doesn't disappoint too much :)))

summary: tom says something so stupid and has to deal with the consquences

warnings: a bit angsty, but ends in fluff! argumnts and raising voices, I guess could be associated with panic attacks tho not written with that intention

//////////////////////////////////

“Oh, Y/n er sorry.” Harrisons morning dulcet tones were what you were awoken to with a groan.

Everything was achy, and your head was pounding, making you grumble in discontent as you shifted uncomfortably on the technically too-small-to-sleep-on sofa.

This was not the morning you’d foreseen even 12 hours ago.

Lockdown had been difficult for everyone, even removing the tragic health crisis. Being locked in with your boyfriend and his brothers and friends was, for the most part, amazing. Lots of laughs, lots of beers and lots of quality time that you usually didn’t get. But it was also intense.

Without a doubt, since you first got together, this was the longest time you’d ever had with Tom. And it had been brilliant, your relationship getting so much closer and just learning the subtlest intricacies about the other. In fact, when lockdown had been announced, you’d never lived together (the most a week-long holiday).

Though it was also like a pressure cooker, Toms rented house. When one of you were in an understandable but stubborn lousy mood, it affected the whole house.

Yesterday night had been the perfect storm. The weather was unbelievably scorching; your work had announced that they had to let some staff go because of the financial implications of the pandemic; a ‘mole’ had released personal details of your relationship.

And it was like a pot on the stove; everything went from controllable to violently boiling over in a matter of minutes.

Honestly, you didn’t even know why you had started arguing - it was that pathetic. And yet you’d both said pretty horrible stuff - though it was Tom who had crossed the line. Frankly, the way he’d spoken to you was almost unforgivable.

You’d both known instantly too, all his anger at you had immediately evaporated when he’d realised what he had said. It took no time for him to become a grovelling apologetic mess, however even that- it was already too late.

It might sound feeble, but honestly, you’d run and locked yourself in the downstairs loo. You’d cried on the inside- whilst from the other side of the door, he had been begging and pleading with you.

After an hour though, Tom finally gave up - hence why you’d had a pretty uncomfortable night on the sofa.

This brings it back to Harrison, the early riser of the house, barrelling into the living room after his morning run. All bright-eyed and bushy-tailed, except also slightly terrified looking as he stood awkwardly in the doorway.

“I’m up now” You sighed, dragging yourself into a sitting position on the sofa whilst massaging your crooked neck.

“You er…. you fell asleep watching the TV?” Rolling your eyes, you sighed at the blonde, even if his poor acting was a little entertaining.

“Are we both pretending that you don’t know what went down last night?” Of course, Harrison knew. The walls were thin, you’d been screaming and he was Tom’s best friend. No doubt, Tom had immediately gone to him for help and advice last night.

Harrison held his hands up in response, caught in the act, and clicked his tongue. “What he said was bad. You shouldn’t be the one ending up with the sore back.” He wasn’t wrong.

“And yet here I am…” With a sigh you smiled which he returned with a sickeningly empathetic one “Anyway, don’t let my sad self get in the way, did you come in here for anything?”

Now, because Harrison was mentally a five year old, that’s how you ended up sat crossed-legged on the floor, clutching a wii remote and angrily shouting at yoshi on the mariokart screen. The whole household was competitive as hell and you were no exception - so some rouge elbows were flying when he viciously knocked you off the track.

Slowly Harry and Tuwaine filtered in and picked up remotes too, so the quiet morning was very quickly switched into a tense atmosphere of yelps and shouts. None more so than Tuwaine, who was possibly the worst looser you had ever met.

Really, you knew all the boys were only doing this as there way of showing you they were with you. That they also thought Tom was a massive raging dickhead. And you appreciated it more than they would ever know. Locked down in Toms house, very much not mutual ground, having three stupid boys behind you meant everything.

Just as you got on to the 18th and final race of the house’s mario grand prix, another voice cut across the tense silence as you waited for the coutdown to turn into ‘go’. Naturally, you flipped round to see Tom, looking as though he literally just rolled out of bed with puffy eyes and messy hair and no top. The sight made your heart flutter, to the point you had to consciously check yourself - refusing to smile softly at him like you usually would, instead narrowing your eyebrows and looking back at the TV.

Tom had so desperately hoped that when he came down this morning, everything would be better. That all it’d take would be a quiet conversation for the two of you to make up - for him to have you in his arms again. Primarily as he had heard your excited laugh echoing through the halls in reactions to Tuwaines yelps of protests - it made him hopeful. Waking up to a cold and empty bed was almost soul-crushing this morning. He did not want it to ever happen again.

Which is why his heart sank so much when all you gave him was a scolding look, before turning your attention to the TV. Admittedly, he was naive to think that what he’d done last night would be an easy fix - he knew it too. So with dropping shoulders, Tom silently took a seat on the sofa, watching from afar. You spent the rest of the race more absent, not joining in with the Harrison or Harrys trash-talking, acutely aware of Tom’s eyes burning the back of your head.

Then came Harry’s celebrations as the overall winner (only just) and when Harrison suggested another game Tom piped up again.

“Give me a turn Harry.”

The three boys kneeling next to you all stiffened, looking immediately to you for what seemed like consent - as if they were engaging with the enemy. (At least it was good to know everyone was on your side).

“I’m gonna go prepare for my meeting anyway.” You spoke quietly, already placing the remote on the floor and standing up.

“Y/n I don’t mind swappin-“

“No. Thanks, H but no.” You weren’t being selfless and giving Tom a turn. You were running away from seeing him.

And Harrison was still really angry at Tom. He’d been so selfish and insensitive and had hurt you- someone who Haz also cared a lot about too. Yes Tom was his bestmate, that he’d grown up with and known for years - but Haz really liked you too, in fact all the boys did. So they were almost as pissed with Tom as you were.

So while you threw the cushion you were sat on back on the floor, Harrison shot Tom the filthiest look and practically shooed him away.

“come on Y/n … just one more? Then you can do your boring work.” You were about to refuse when Haz tilted his head toward the door, only then noticing that Tom had slipped out the room. Now that he was gone ,yes, just one more wouldn’t hurt. The meeting prep wasn’t time pressured; it was an excuse for an escape.

Tuwaine whooped a little when you nodded, planting back down and ready for the first race. Yet apart from that, the room was still a little awkward, you being the first to break the silence.

“Actually Haz, would you mind giving me a lift today?”

“What to the shops?

“Um no not quite.” Tuwaine laughed in his usual innocent and infectious style before asking more.

“Seriously? You know we’re locked down? Boris won’t be happy if you going mad and leaving the house.”

“Just to Y/f/n’s. She lives on her own so it’s legal.”

“She lives just down the road right? Can’t you walk?” Harry was confused, making him look away from the screen, ultimately leading to his ‘diddykong’ falling off the track.

“I’ll have my bags. I um… I think I’m going to stay with her till lockdown eases more.”

As soon as you said that, Harry pressed pause on the race, all three boys looking at you mouth-opened.

“For real?”

“Yeh I um… think me and Tom need some time apart and being locked in isn’t helping.”

“I’m not saying to forgive and forget what he said… but he is really sorry.”

“The twats literally kicking himself.” Tuwaine added, making you smile a little for calling Tom that.

“I know just… I need some space and-“

“Are you breaking up?” Harry almost announced, cutting you off. He would miss you too.

“No! Nono I … well I don’t know. I just- we both need this.”

The boys all nodded, looking at the floor for a moment before Harrison’s blue eyes were back on you.

“Course I’ll drive, but… but I’ll miss you.”

/////////////////////////////////////////////////////////

You’d left merely an hour later, whilst Tom was holed up in the garden doing what looked like an almost unbearable work out. It meant he was also out your hair and you could throw all your stuff into two suitcases without him being any the wiser. It was probably pretty cowardly to leave without speaking to him, but you couldn’t. It would hurt too much and you didn’t want to break down in front of him. No doubt as soon as you had got to Y/f/n you did - into a blubbering mess of tears - but Tom hadn’t seen so it was okay.

Speaking of. Tom.

Tom was not in a good way at all. He’d been trying really hard to curb his’ short fuse’ lately- all of which had been well and truly blown in the past 4 hours. After finally being realised from meetings, which he’d not been able to concentrate on anyway, Tom had mentally prepared himself for a lot of grovelling. Once he’d vaguely hunted the house and not found you there, he naturally asked Harry and Tuwaine (both of whom were in the living room) if they’d seen you around.

It was a typical question, the answer he was expecting was that you’d just gone on your daily walk. And yet the response he got was… well a lot more confusing. Harry’s eyes widened whilst T did his awkward-uncomfortable chuckle, the two locked in an intense bout of eye contact. It was as though they were arguing with each, but through the powers of telekinesis... and it put Tom on edge. He was already stressed because you were so angry with him, so not getting a clear answer out of his brother and best mate - lets just say it tested his patience.

“You two need to tell me what the hell is going on right now.”

The two boys both looked panicked to speak to him, which was the opposite of the usual situation. They were some of the ONLY people in his life that would just say it how it is, no sugar coating. Like if he was away and being ‘famous’ was getting to his head; or if he wore the wrong pair of jeans. Even yesterday evenings events, they’d both called him out on what he’d said to you.

So why the silence?

Eventually, it was Harry who spoke up, but in doing so, practically just waved all responsibility on to another innocent party.

“Ask Haz.”

And then Tom knew. He knew this was bad. Immediately his heart was pumping at an alarmingly fast rate, taking the stairs two at a time and not bothering to knock before bursting the door open.

“Where’s Y/n?”

Harrison was reclined back on his haphazardly made bed, laptop balanced on his lap as he looked up with a sigh. He’d known this conversation was coming, but it didn’t make it any less easy. With a sigh, Haz closed the lid of his MacBook and sat up on the bed.

“Tom just-“

“Where. Is. She.”

“She’s gone to Y/f/n’s.”

“Oh… okay.” Suddenly Tom’s voice was muted, thinking he might’ve blown his top at nothing. This wasn’t weird - Y/f/n was in your support bubble and you went to hers often.

Tom was grossly underestimating the situation - and Harrison heard didn’t fancy stringing him along though.

“No like gone. She um… she took all her stuff. I think she’s going to stay there till-“

Tom was already out his room at that point, slamming the door as he did so. Making a beeline for his own room, Tom then frantically started to pull out the draws and rummage around the shelves, confirming what he already knew. Your clothes were gone, your toothbrush and toiletries were gone, you were gone.

It’s important to note Tom didn’t really cry all that much. Or if he did - it was more inconsequential, at a sad movie or one of the rescue dog stories from battersea. Actually, when it came down to it, he didn’t really cry.

Now though, it was impossible to ignore the burning of his eyes, as he sank down onto the bed that now felt twice the size. With ragged breath, he repeatedly fisted his eyes, not actually letting the tears fall - but it was impossible to not acknowledge their presence. Harrison stood wordlessly at the door frame, knowing it best not to interrupt - whilst at the same time knowing Tom shouldn’t be left alone. There was a delicate balance between the two, which he was walking on a knife-edge on right now.

After a short while, Tom looked up with red eyes and nodded at Harrison, effectively granting him entrance. With a sigh once again, Haz moved and sat next to Tom on the bed, clasping his hands together nervously.

“She said you both just needed a break from each other. Think lockdown and everything was just a bit too intense.” Haz had tried to explain, yet it seemed Tom had only managed to lock onto one of the first words.

“A break? Or breaking up?”

“I uhm… she didn’t explicitly say ending things. But I just… I don’t know to be honest mate.”

“You see the way she looked at me this morning? Like she hated me. Wouldn’t even acknowledge that I was there.”

“I don’t know what to say… she needs time and space I think.” Tom was silent for a beat, shaking his head as he cradled his forehead.

“I hate the fact you and my girlfriend are on better terms than I am.” Anddd his voice was back to scathing.

“I’m not on anyones side. But your both my friends and she… she needed some time.”

With that, Harrison made a quick exit out, getting Harry to take over the Tom supervision.

Ever since the atmosphere in the house had been tense. To say Tom was highly strung was an understatement, particularly towards Harrison. Deep down he was thankful Haz was looking out for Y/n: he was glad that Haz was checking she was okay. It’s not like Tom could, because Y/n was refusing to answer his calls, texts, whatsapps, even the slip of paper he’d slipped under Y/f/n’s door in the middle of an especially dark night.

So it was good to know Y/n was okay, but the fact she was going on socially distanced walks with the rest of his housemates was rubbing salt in the wound.

After a week and a half of complete radio silence on your end Tom had utterly worn down. He didn’t have the emotional capacity to be angry anymore, he was just tired. Tired of missing you with every breath, tired of the ten-tonne weight of guilt pressing on his chest, fucking exhausted with being angry at Haz and Harry and Tuwaine.

The best thing in his life and one of the very limited opportunities was quality time with the people he loved more than anything else. He had ruined it all.

And it was the small things. It was waking up to your soft, whispered voice in the morning; it was your infectious giggle when he surprised you with a hug from behind and gentle kisses to your neck; it was your quiet singing in the shower. Especially when he knew Haz, Harry and Tuwaine were all still seeing you and laughing with you. It hurt like hell.

Which is how he ended up hesitantly knocking on Harrison’s bedroom door at half eleven at night, with his tail between his legs. Having been so uber-healthy all lockdown, Haz was already in bed following his sleep cycle, though for Tom right now- he would be awake.

“I’m um… I’m sorry I’ve been a knob. There’s no excuse of anything I’ve just… I’ve been a knob.”

“You’re not wrong.” Harrison nodded in agreement with a sly smile, motioning for Tom to come into the room, after which he perched on the edge of the bed.

“I just… I need to speak to her but I… I don’t want to push her if she’s still hurting and I…”

“You absolutely promise not to blow your fuse? Because she couldn’t handle that.” Tom’s eyes widened, thinking this would be a much harder pitch than how it seemed to be going.

“Yesyesyes i- I promise. I just, I feel broken you know? Even if all I get is the time to say sorry, I-I really need to.”

Harrison released a deep breath, nodding slowly before throwing the covers off himself. Tom watched all his movements with a curious gaze, silently sitting as Haz pulled on a hoodie, then socks too.

“Well? Let’s go.”

//////////////////

Now, what Tom had not in the slightest bit been prepared for was this to happen tonight. Really, he hadn’t even thought Harrison would agree to let him talk to you… and even if he had, Tom not in hell thought it’d be at 11:30 that evening.

His heart was thundering in his chest, trying to hurriedly script how on earth he was going to apologise meaningfully to you - as him and Haz walked the short distance to your friends house. Honestly the whole situation was peculiar to Tom - finding it hard to believe that if you weren’t to answer his texts you wouldn’t be open to an in person conversation.

What Tom didn’t know, was how you’d been texting Haz at a similar point of desperation. You weren’t happy and even given everything Tom had said and acted - you missed your boy. No matter how infuriating he could be when trapped 24/7 - you’d quickly learnt this was the only way you wanted to spend these weird times.

So yes, Tom’s best friend knew you were hardly sleeping either, but needed that little push to interact with you boyfriend. No doubt, you’d still be awake to answer the door.

Once he’d arrived at the apartment block and walked up the stairs to the right floor, it still took some prodding and pushing from Harrison to get Tom to knock on the door. Plainly, because he was shitting himself. Haz hadn’t given him enough pre warning, enough time to work it all out in his head. So it took another encouraging nod from Harrison for him to knock on the slightly rough-round-the-edges flat door.

Y/f/n was single and young, starting her career in Kingston - so the flat she could afford was modest at best. When it was just occupied by a single person, that was manageable - two was a push. You’d only been living with her for a week and a few days but it was enough to know this flat was not ideal for two people in lockdown. You were already stepping on each others toes. It also wasn’t technically legal to move households but Y/f/n had always been in your support bubble as a single household otherwise. And so there was also a layer of guilt to it all.

Naturally then, sharing a bed with someone who wasn’t Tom meant you just were not sleeping. Even if you had both gone to bed early (just to kill some hours in the day) you were still wide awake at quarter to twelve - when a timid knock echoed through the minuscule apartment. Curiosity peaked at who the hell would be calling now; you silently slipped out of bed, managing to not disturb Y/f/n, and closed the bedroom door.

Now you weren’t an idiot. Even though this was southwest london, hardly the capital for crime, Y/f/n lived in a dodgy building with some questionable characters. And it was midnight. Hence why you approached the situation cautiously, tiptoeing to the door and waiting with your ear pressed against the wood.

“I told you she wouldn’t answer!”

“She will! Might just be in the loo or something.”

“Haz this is stupid-“

The air in your chest froze when you immediately recognised the smooth tone of his voice. It was him… and you’d missed that so much. Already there were tears in your eyes and you couldn’t open the door just yet. So no, instead you slid down the doorframe before calling quietly out into the night.

“Tom?”

The bickering on the otherside of the door was silenced, but you heard a quite tap on the door... and could envision exactly what was going on. Tom, pressing both palms and his ear to the door, as Harrison took a few steps back - sensing his work was done.

“Y/n? You there?” He sounded desperate, you could hear the emotion dripping off his voice. It was only when you tried to reply did you realise your own voice was having a harder time speaking.

“Yeh its-its me.” It felt as though this heavyweight that had been pressing down on your chest was slowly lifting, making your voice all cracky and low.

In response, there was a short and sharp exhale. It sounded relieved before some fidgeting as you imagined him crouching down beside the door - mirroring your image.

“Fuck, it… it feels so good to hear your voice.”

“Yours too… I’ve-i’ve missed you.”

Tom snorted at that, a gentle bang allowing you to realise he’d just whacked his head on the back of the wood.

“You have no idea how this week felt.” He was wrong though, you did.

Yes, maybe without the insurmountable guilt that Tom was rightfully feeling, but it didn’t mean that the time apart wasn’t easy.

“I do. This hasn’t been a nice holiday for me you know?”

He sighed, knowing that yet again he’d said the wrong thing. This time though, he didn’t rebut instantly (which surprised you), instead his response was more measured and calculated.

“I am so sorry. And of course, I know because I was the one that hurt you too. I don’t think I’ll ever be able to forgive myself for that.” You nodded but given this conversation was happening through a door Tom didn’t see your gentle agreement - opting to fill the silence.

“I um… I’m not good at this whole um… speaking my feelings. But I’ve hated myself ever since I picked that fight with you. It was stupid and uh it-it was all my fault. I’m so so sorry for hurting you.”

“‘Why?” You tried to ask, except the words were stuck in your throat, making you have to clear it before asking again. “Why did you say it?”

“To get a rise out of you. It’s stupid and petty and fucking-fucking dumb. I said it not because I’ve ever thought it, I never ever have, but I knew it’d hurt you. I was preying on your insecurities because I was angry at the world and that was so unfair. “

“No shit.”

Silence reigned as you fiddled with your fingers - specifically with the promise ring he’d bought you a year ago.

“You-you think you could ever forgive me?”

“Thats the annoying part. I want to hate you because you literally stabbed me then twisted the knife but… but all I’ve done this week is miss you. Even when I saw Haz or Harry or Tuwaine. I just fucking missed you.”

“Can you open the door please love?”

Clumsily you scrubbed the tear tracks off your face, scrabbling to your feet so you could thrust open the doors. Because you might still be bloody pissed at him, but at the same time - you needed your Tom. Thrusting the door open, the first thing you registered was being pressed into Tom’s chest. His arms slinked around your waist and held him tight, which you reciprocated, squeezing tightly round his neck. Your senses were all being assaulted by one thing and one thing only. Tom.

He smelt like usual, except maybe the slightest bit stronger than usual - you figured he hadn’t showered in a day or two or bothered with cologne. The top of your forehead was pressed up against his chin, and as he readjusted his grip on you, you felt the scratchy feeling of his unshaven stubble. He kept whispering apologies against the top of your head, almost desperate and religiously.

Arching back, you brought both hands to cup his cheeks, looking into his glassy brown. eyes, which looked so lost and confused.

“I’m still angry.”

“Of course-“

“I’m still angry but I’m going to kiss you okay?”

Safe to say Tom didn’t require a verbal response, taking it upon himself to nudge his lips against yours, yet waiting for you to initiate the kiss. And that you did, everything else about this godforsaken week and a half. His index finger traced the angle of your jaw, whilst he held your lower back tight, pressing himself as close as physically possible to you. Needing you.

Eventually arching back, your thumb ran over his deep and sunken under-eyes, which added so much age to his face.

“You look tired Tommy.”

“Can’t sleep without you telling me goodnight.” That was another tradition you had had. Even when he was away, you’d even set an alarm for whatever bedtime was for the other across the world. Just so you could send a little message or voice not saying goodnight. Was it cringey? Yes. Did either of you care? No.

But since you’d been away all the evening wishes were absent from you. Which hurt Tom more than you may ever know.

“I know you’re still angry but will you please come home to me? I need you to be the last thing I hear at night and the first thing in the morning.”

would love to hear any feedback <333 (but think this is a bit of a shitter so im sorry!!!)

tagging: @lovehollandy12 @pandaxnienke @thegirlwiththeimpala @msmimimerton @hollandfanficlove @hollandlover19 @hunnybunimdun @crossyourpeter @thefernandasantana@hallecarey1

[mae-gi-writes]

Once Again (PT.I) | Iwaizumi Hajime (Haikyu!)

ONCE AGAIN : PART ONE 

Summary:  Iwaizumi’s broken marriage results in his five-year-old son trying to match him up with his primary school teacher, whom he thinks will make a wonderful replacement for a mother. 

Genre: fluff, slight angst, f!reader x dad! Iwaizumi 

A/N: There will be 2 or 3 parts of this oneshot! Depending on how long I feel like writing. Thanks for checking it out and stopping by! Let’s dive into some Iwa moments :,)

NEXT PART --> 

---

“What’s your return policy on rings?” 

The saleswoman smiles sympathetically behind the counter. That stupid sympathetic smile he’s been getting for weeks on end now. And it never stops; with his co-workers, with his family, his friends...

Iwaizumi’s sick of it. He’s sick of having to prove that he’s doing just fine, thank you very much. When in truth, his heart is constantly being torn apart and stomped upon as is people have nothing better to do than torture him in their free time. 

“I’m sorry, but these rings have been brought more than three years ago, and our warrant only lasts for three years,” the saleswoman keeps on talking but it doesn’t matter, for Iwaizumi can already feel the anger slowly creep up through the back of his neck, can already feel the vibrating emotions clogging up his sense of judgement. 

His fists clench at his sides upon impulse, the physical pain of his nails driving into his palms enough to remind him to stay cordial. It’s not the woman’s fault, the better part of him chants, it’s not her fault at all. 

“Fine,” he manages to grovel out, barely, “thanks anyway.” 

He all but storms out of the shop while shoving the rectangular box back in his pant pocket, and though it’s been more than four months since his ugly divorce with the woman he’d hoped to share the rest of his life with, the weight of their promise hangs heavy and hot upon his thigh. 

The thing is, Iwaizumi is mad. He is seething. If one were to give him a bat, he’d probably destroy the entire town by himself. Not because she was the one that cheated, not because she was the one going behind his back numerous times a week to seek out her lover when he’d been basically driven mad between Hoisuke’s cries and the stress of call meetings scheduled back to back. 

No, he’s angry. Because how the fuck could she do this to Hoisuke? How can she break the child’s heart like that, so ruthlessly, without even thinking twice about the consequences? 

Because if there is a victim in all this, then it’s definitely Hoisuke. And not only that, Hoisuke understands that his mother has been acting strange, that she doesn’t return at regular times and that her hugs now smell of cigarette smoke with a bittertaste of alcohol. 

Iwaizumi is so caught up in anger that he almost blunders past his battered Hyundai, red and chipping away at the corners. Still, this car holds so many memories, the good and the bad ones. 

“Can’t you get a newer car? I thought your company could sponsor you,” the ghost of his wife’s voice echoes through his head, a blatant reminder of all the things she’d found wrong in his life.

“Why?” he’d tilted his head around to fix his gaze on her figure bending over the sink. The TV was playing in the background and he thanked the gods that the morning comics were taking up Hoisuke’s attention, enough to distract him from his parents’ quibbles. 

“It’s just--so old and tacky.” 

“It still works well, doesn’t it? Why change it now?” 

She’d paused, hesitated slightly before blundering on, “It’s embarrassing. My colleagues keep asking if we're poor or something."

"Who cares what your colleagues think?"

Fuck her, Iwaizumi mentally swears as he turns on the ignition. Fuck her and all her needs for a better life. As if the life they had wasn't more than enough. Pulling out into the street to join the incoming traffic, he blinks away the sudden tears accumulating at the corner of his eyes and swears once more, this time aloud, glad that Hoisuke isn't in his presence when he gets in such a foul mood.

Iwaixumi may be angry. He may be filled with pent-up rage from the memory still attached to the day he'd discovered a used condom in their bathroom trash. But that doesn't mean it hurts any less.

That doesn't mean he does not still cry into his pillow over it every night.

----

"Please don't forget to do your homework for tomorrow! We'll correct them before moving on to the next chapter," you call out to your students as excited chatter fills the air. Students rise from their seats, some calling you bye and waving as they all file out of the classroom and you can't help the small smile lingering over your lips even though your feet are killing you.

Outside, parents have already lined up to collect their kids, the chatter and bustle of people ebbing away down the corridor as you let out a soft sigh.

"Miss?"

You jolt, not realizing that one of your students stands by the table wringing his hands, "what's wrong Hoisuke? Dad's not here yet?"

He shakes his head, watery eyes blinking up at you as he raises his thumb to his lips. You stand quickly and motion him to come close until he's within reach before your hand smoothes over the back of his head, "it's okay. He's probably stuck in traffic. I'll wait with you."

It's not surprising that parents get tardy once in a while and you're all too accustomed to those slight change in plans. Thankfully, you manage to distract the young boy with some coloured crayons and a piece of paper while you dial for his father's number.

It keeps ringing. No one picks up.

You try once more, one more time after that. But still, nothing. It shifts to voicemail. You decide it's better than nothing, "hi Iwaizumi-san. This is Y/N, Hoisuke's teacher. I was just wondering what time you would be picking up Hoisuke? Please call me as soon as possible. Thank you."

You end the call only to spot Hoisuke's eyes on you, intent and impatient for you to explain, "it's okay," you tell him with a smile, "he'll be here soon. Don't worry. Do you want to keep colouring some more?"

Hoisuke nods, to which your smile widens. It's those special moments, where your shyest students express themselves, that your chest warms with sympathy and affection. You've been there, you know how it feels like not to be heard, and you appreciate every interaction they offer you.

Being a primary school teacher is tough, especially since it wasn't in your original plans. But the satisfaction of bringing up some of the world's future leaders cancelled out all the late nights correcting tests and scrambled weekends trying to finish off as many worksheets as you possibly could for the coming week. You can’t complain, not when you have a decent salary that keeps bread on the table and a roof over your head.

A tug on your sleeve brings you back to Hoisuke looking up at you, a scribbled drawing of what seems to be of him and his dad. You feel yourself chuckling at how he's drawn both their hair in brown spikes, erratically extravagant and yet so close to reality.

"That's really good, Hoisuke!" You beam down at him, "what do you and your dad do on weekends?"

He shrugs shyly, head averted to the side so that there's no need for eye contact. And in the shyest voice he can muster up, he says:

"Daddy brings me...to see Mama," Hoisuke's words are barely above a mumble, "they live in different houses. They can't live together anymore."

Uneasiness squeeses in your stomach, followed by sympathy for this soft-hearted boy. You had overheard some of your colleagues giggling about Hoisuke's dad being attractive and single -- a combo that teachers adore -- but that doesn't mean that the weight of his words don't lay heavy on your own conscience.

"Do you miss your Mama a lot?" You ask him softly. Unconsciously, your hand finds a way to smooth over his head.

The boy doesn't pull away. Instead, he nods, "sometimes. But it is better this way. Daddy smiles more now. And there's no one to shout and make noise."

"Are you happy, Hoisuke? With your dad?"

He nods and to your amazement grins, "daddy is funny. He tells me not to swear but when he burns the food he always swears. And then he says to shush and tells me to close my ears. He also makes me pancakes every Saturday morning before I go see Mama."

Right on cue, a figure bursts through the open classroom door and both your heads snap to see a drenched, older version of Hoisuke who looks like he just finished running a marathon.

"I'm--" he wheezes, causing you to stand in alarm and concern, "I'm sorry I'm--so late--"

"Daddy, you forgot me again!" Comes Hoisuke's statement as you ask Iwaizumi if he's okay. He shakes off your worry with a flick of his hand and a shake of his head, "I'm fine. Sorry-- there's a nasty rain outside--"

"It's okay," you reassure him as Hoisuke practically barrels into his father and almosy knocks him off his feet.

"Sorry Hoisuke," you watch Iwaizumi's hardened features soften ever so slightly as he ruffles his son's hair. Then, looking back up at you as you bring over Hoisuke's backpack, he says, "thank you. For looking after him."

"It's no problem, honestly. We had fun didn't we?" You grin down at your student and are delighted to find Hoisuke grinning back up at you, albeit shyly, "I put his homework in his diary. He'll need to complete it for tomorrow so that he doesn't fall behind in class."

His father nods, "alright. Thanks."

"Daddy, your hair looks atrocious," Hoisuke says, tugging onto his shirt.

"Atrocious huh?" Iwazumi's eyebrow rise, "someone was listening in their English class today."

"Atrocious means that it looks bad. Daddy, your hair looks bad."

"Thanks buddy, I knew that. Now say bye to Miss Y/N."

"Bye bye, miss Y/N," Hoisuke says, wriggling his short arm through the air as you wave back with a giggle. His father nods at you in silent thanks, makes a move to walk out of the class, only to swivel back to you just as you're collecting your bag.

"Uhm," he clears his throat, causing you to jump slightly, "yes?" You blink back at him and try hard not to stare at the way his white shirt clings to his toned chest, translucent from the rain.

"Do you need a ride?"

-----

You've known Iwaizumi since high school. Having graduated just two years later than he did, his reputation had preceded him throughout the school halls even though you'd never actually had any face to face interaction with the said man. Iwaizumi doesn't know this of course and you are adamant about keeping it a secret. But that plan seems to be unraveling before your very eyes the moment your small talk turns towards your academic history.

"You're from Aoba Johsai?" His surprised glance doesn't escape your notice, especially since that's the most reaction you've gotten out of him.

"Yeah," your eyes stay glued to the row of cars crawling through the motorway, "I remember you went there too, right?"

"How'd you know?"

"You were Aoba's ace volleyball player. Everyone knew who you were."

His silence answers you and for a moment, you fear that you might have offended him. Not that it's something to be offended about.

Before you try to scratch your brain for some kind of response -- any response -- Hoisuke pipes up from the back seat, "Daddy was famous back when he was in high school. He hit the ball like kapow! And jumped so high he can touch the sky."

"Oh? Have you seen him on camera?" You turn slightly, a small smile dangling off your lips at how adorably amazed and excited Hoisuke seems to be.

"Yeah! His spikes are so awesome! It goes pow! And it zooms! Like a cannon ball!"

You burst out laughing, "yes, your father was amazing whenever he was on the court. Every girl in our class had a crush on him."

"What's a crush?"

"Hmm, you know when you really like someone. You like like them, you want to be together with them. Like, girlfriend and boyfriend."

"Oh," Hoisuke draws out, "did you really like daddy too?"

"Yeah I did."

"What?" Iwaizumi almost chokes on his own spit at the same time traffic eases and you're glad for the distraction, for you're certain there's a scattering of colour upon your cheeks.

"Do you really like him now?" Hoisuke persists, undoubtly untouched by the embarrassment taking over his father's features and you swear that more than ever, you want to laugh at how flustered Iwaizumi looks.

You decide to play nice though and instead turn to wink at your student, "that's a secret for me to keep."

You don't have to look twice to know that the man beside you is bursting into hot flames.

-----

"Did you really like Mama before you started living separately?"

Iwaizumi swears that he's never felt so uncomfortable in his life. Not when he's had to state that he was divorced, not when he had to sign divorce papers half drunk off his ass. Not even when he'd raged after his said ex-wife after finding a tie that wasn't his own in his laundry pile.

Now is probably a good definition of what uncomfortable means.

"You're not gonna let me off the hook are you?" He steals a glance at Hoisuke from over his shoulder while stirring the vegetable curry, "yes, I really liked your mother."

"Did she?"

The word 'yes' almost slips past his mouth. Except, he isn't sure whether that's the truth and decides to shoot back with, "have you finished your homework, Hoisuke? You know it's due tomorrow. Miss Y/N said so."

"Do you really like miss Y/N?"

"What?" Iwaizumi frowns, "well--no. Not like that."

"Why?" His son whines, "I really really like Miss Y/N. She's nice to me and she never shouts. And she bakes good cookies!"

"How'd you know that?" Iwaizumi leans over to taste a bit of the sauce. Not bad, he thinks and mentally pats himself on the back. A few weeks ago, he would've probably burnt the entire house down.

"Because she bakes them every month. Every time we finish a test."

"That's nice of her."

"Yes," there's a pause as the man fishes out a bowl in which to serve the curry, "daddy, what do you do when you really like someone? Do you marry them like you and Mama did?"

"Uh--yeah. Sure."

"Then does that mean I need to marry Miss Y/N if I really like her?"

"Yup."

"Daddy!"

Iwaizumi bursts out laughing. Turning off the stovetop and bringing the bowl over to the dining table, he reaches out to ruffle his son's hair with a grin, "you're the one who has a crush on miss Y/N."

"She's too old for me Daddy," grumbles Hoisuke while scooping out two rice bowls as the pair sit down for dinner, "but she'll be good for you."

"Not that simple, buddy," Iwaizumi says as he dumps two spoonfuls of curry into his son's bowl, before doing the same with his own, "there's a difference between like and love."

A frown falls over his son's face, so like his own that Iwaizumi can't help but chuckle, "what is the difference?"

"Well, when you really like someone, you might want to get to know them better. Or play with them andd shit--stuff like that. When you love someone, it's..." he hesitates, "it's different."

"Why?"

There goes that innocent question that punctures his chesy a little too deeply. The brown-haired man steadies his gaze upon the calendar fixed on the wall opposite him as he answers with:

"When you love someone, you want to live with them. You want to start a family with them. Their happiness," his brown orbs switch back to his son's focused attention, "their happiness is all that matters."

Maybe it's the fact that he's not used to speaking so truthfully about such things. Maybe it's just Hoisuke who suddenly realizes the layers hidden beneath his father's poker-faced exterior. But for a moment, neither of them speak, as if bewitched by a silencing spell if broken by the scraping of cutlery against porcelain.

"Did you love mama?"

Hoisuke's voice is small, fragile. So fragile that Iwaizumi pauses just as his spoon reaches his mouth, glancing over at his boy. His beautiful boy.

"Yeah."

Another short pause. "Did she love me?"

"Of course she did," Iwaizumi's face softens. To be honest, Hoisuke hadn't showed any kind of restraint during the entire divorce procedure, had merely accepted things as they had unfolded before his very eyes. But sometimes, Iwaizumi fears his son might be keeping more from him than he lets on.

He ressembles his mother a lot in that sense.

"Then," wet coffee-coloured eyes blink up at him, lips trembling with a hoarse whisper, "why'd she leave?"

Before his father can say anything, the young boy bursts into tears.

Iwaizumi rushes over, clasping Hoisuke in his embrace as the child buries his face into his neck and cries and cries and cries. His little heart beats like wild horses and with every sob echoing through hid body, Iwaizumi feels his own heart break over and over again. One of his hands rub comforting circles of Hoisuke's back, while the other smoothes over the back of his head as he murmurs soft nothings in hopes that it will calm down the young child.

"I want--" Hoisuke's voice is thick with tears, "I want Mama--"

"Shh, hey it's okay," Iwaizumi murmurs out, "s'alright kiddo. I got you."

Hoisuke falls asleep eventually, the soft sniffles dying out into even breaths as he slumps against his father’s shoulder, probably tired out from his earlier emotions. Iwaizumi takes this as his chance to tuck the boy into bed, glad that he’d listened to the small subconscious in his head telling him that Hoisuke would be falling asleep sooner rather than latter. 

As he smoothes over his son’s hair, a part of him wonders how much Hoisuke is still silently hurting from his mother’s departure. He can’t imagine it; suddenly changing lives like you’ve merely changed your bed sheets and Iwaizumi had been so caught up in his own heartbreak, in his own bout of silent rage, that he’d forgotten that along the way, Hoisuke was also a victim to their endless fighting, the cold war that had broken his family apart. 

He wishes he can take the pain away, ease it somehow. But it’s not that simple. The truth is, no one can actually predict how a heart gets broken, nor when it does. The only evidence are the repurcussions. And it’s only now that Iwaizumi gets to see it truly take its form. 

Leaning over to press a soft kiss to Hoisuke’s forehead, Iwaizumi murmurs his silent goodnight before walking out and gently closing the bedroom door behind him. 

He leans onto the hard wooden surface and rubs his eyes. It is only upon pulling them away that he takes notice of the family photograph hanging on the opposite wall, frozen smiles wrapped up in lies.

He really needs to take that down.

-----

[bibblelevi]

Sar. Love. Babes. Bubba (sorry).

I’ve had this Kitty!Levi scenario stuck in my head throughout all my lectures and I need to get it out:

You’re a CEO!Reader and overwhelmed with work, going over cases and files on your computer at home, taking phone calls etc. Unknowingly, you’ve been ignoring Kitty!Levi all day. He’s getting needy, keeps biting at your neck and pulling at your clothes, trying to get onto your lap and get an ounce of attention

Feeling stressed, you snap a little at Levi, telling him to lay off or he gets a punishment. Now, Levi’s face drops and he’s in a mood, walking away whilst growling to himself. But you’re so absorbed with work, you carry on typing and filing, trying to fix all these deadlines and whatnot.

When you’re finished an hour or so later, showered and finally able to relax, you find Levi curled up on your bed, wrapped in blankets head to tow, glaring at the TV. You ask him what he’s watching, but you’re met with no response, and Levi’s frowning even harder at the screen, tail flopping up and down on the bed, ears flattened down. It finally dawns on you how meanly you spoke to Levi, so you try to pet him, apologising softly for letting your stress get to the better of you. Levi feels like being a petty bitch™ so he turns around, dismissing you once again.

You, being the lovely caretaker you are, you straddle him, grinding into his ass, determined to make him speak to you and say “I forgive you”, flushing him with orgasm after orgasm <3

sorry if this is long i am a sLut.

Warnings for hybrids, pet play, submissive Levi, pegging (anal penetration, m receiving), dumbification, dub con (no explicit consent at the beginning)

Kitty Levi acting petty is my favorite thing in the entire universe.

He continues ignoring you despite the throb of arousal below his waistband--he’s got to show some restraint. But you’re adamant on gaining his forgiveness. Your mouth strains to press a kiss over his cheek, which spurs him to turn away from the contact, but you persevere. A line of saliva is paved over his jaw and down the nape of his neck, as far down as the collar of his shirt allows.

You work to untuck the blanket from around him, and he lays there boneless, forcing you to do all the work.

“I’m so sorry, baby,” you murmur. You drag your nails up and down his bare back, hem of his shirt pushed up. “I was mean.” More kisses pepper along his spine, dangerously close to his waistband. Your fingertips sneak under the elastic and tug and tease, not yet pulling all the way down.

“Please say something,” you beg.

The silent treatment ensues, but you see the curled fingers and the twitching of his tail. It’s easy to understand his need when he shows all the signs.

“Fine. Fine, you don’t wanna talk?” The weight of the mattress dips beside him, and his ears perk as he tries to capture the sound of whatever is you’re doing. There’s some soft clinking, but he refuses to look up and see for himself.

“I’ll just have to pull all those pretty sounds out of you myself,” you say lowly.

That’s when you tug down on his waistband, your hand squeezing his ass, kneading the flesh. His face heats, and he squeezes his thighs together, cock now fully hard and digging into the mattress. The band is caught right against his balls, his tip finding friction from the cotton with even the slightest shift.

He can’t help the gasp that escapes him when a lubed intrusion prods at his entrance--he blushes red in an instant, knowing exactly what is pushing inside him.

You take your time since he wasn’t properly worked open, until your knees touch either side of the mattress. Levi sighs below the weight of you and buries his cheek into the pillow, eyes half-lidded, beginning to glaze over. In this position, he feels so full. So stuffed. Like there’s not an inch left inside that he could possibly spare.

“This is how sorry I am, honey. So, so sorry.” You reward him with a thrust, and he has to cling to the pillow, jaw cracking wide open. Fuck, fuck, you feel too good, it’s not fair. Every thrust punctuated with a soft squeeze to his ass. “You’ve been such a good boy. Still are.”

All it takes is a few more thrusts and some hushed praises for the dam to break and the noises to spill outward. He shudders, then cries out, “Mommy-- “ He turns his head a little so he can open his eyes and see you.

“Do you forgive me, baby?” you ask him. Each kiss of your pelvis against his ass ruts his cock against the mattress, sparking a hot pleasure all down his lower half.

He bobs his head. “M-make me cum. N’ maybe I will.”

“Oh, baby, you know that’s not how this works. I’m gonna need you to forgive me before you cum. But don’t worry,” you grab his waist, tip of your cock finding his prostate, making his eyes cross. “I think I’ll be hearing it in no time.”