#only for mannering to help clear his name at the end of his career and then offer him a job with him!!!

[lemonadeandlanguages]

Sorry but no one's doing likeable acquaintances > enemies > grudging friends > best friends like Mannering and Bristow 🤷🏻

[inlovewithquestionablecharacters]

Hey,

Do you still take Hannibal requests? If you do, could you please write a story, where Hannibal get‘s very jealous after a night out in the opera. The reader had finally met Franklyn, who is very interested in her ( because she‘s friends with Hannibal and part of the cheese folk).Hannibal is visibly angry when they are back in their opera seats… Could you also please end it with smut ( if you are comfortable with that).Thanks for considering!<3

A/n: Hey Hon thanks for the request i hope you like it!

Hannibal Lector x Reader: Jealousy, Jealousy

Warnings:smut, biting, kissing, penetration (p in v), fingering, possessive behaviour, public sex, unwanted flirting (from Franklin), fluff, happy ending, no use of y/n, female reader

Word count:2,9K

Hannibal is pissed. No scratch that. He’s seething. But you can’t see it. No one can. He’s just that good at hiding it. Even so, everyone has a breaking point. 

This was Hannibals.

Franklin had met you at the last opera you and Hannibal had gone to and from that moment it seemed he had grown some sort of infatuation with you. Hannibal always loathed his sessions with Franklin, his ever growing desire to be Hannibal’s friends making the doctor rather uncomfortable, but he never imagined it could get worse. Boy was he mistaken. It seemed like Franklin couldn’t utter a single sentence without mentioning your name. Hannibal watched him dance around the subject for days until he finally got to the point.

“You think you could give me her number?”

“I'm sorry?”

“Her number. I wanted to ask if she’d be free for some wine tasting but I don't know how to reach her. And then I thought you must have her number since you two seem close.”

“I don’t think she’d be interested.”

“Oh well maybe you could give me it anyway and i could ask-”

“I will not be giving you her number and that is final.”

An eerie silence took over the room. Hannibal watched Franklin open and close his mouth silently before settling back into his chair. It seemed clear to Hannibal that his patient had finally gotten the message.

 Once again he was wrong.

You were nursing a glass of wine that Hannibal had picked out for you as your eyes studied the opera house. Hannibal was next to you, his body mare inches from yours but not close enough to allow contact. You watched people come up to Hannibal in greeting before quickly going away.

“As always you’re quite the topic.”

“I don’t know what you mean dear.”

“Don’t be modest Hannibal. It's clear these people admire you. They may even wish to be you.”

You caught sight of a girl making flirtatious eyes to Hannibal and couldn’t help but smirk.

“Or maybe be with you. Either way they consider you appealing.”

Hannibal watched you as you spoke, his eyes never leaving your frame. It was intriguing how observant you could be and how unseeing you were at the same time. It didn’t matter how many women tried to impress him, his eyes always found themselves glued to you. You always had his full attention.

Always.

It was beginning to become a problem.

Hannibal had been so focused on looking at you that he hadn’t noticed someone new had approached. It was only when Hannibal heard the familiar voice that he realized you two had company. The doctor watched Franklin greet you with a kiss on your hand. The sight itself made Hannibal clench his hands into fists. He tried to remind himself he was in the middle of a very crowded place. A place filled with people who knew him. Seeing him throw a punch at a patient would ruin his career. Still he’d never felt an urge to knock someone out so much in his life.

You were always a kind person. Very well mannered and aware of your words. So it shouldn’t surprise Hannibal when you kept conversing with Franklin, occasionally even laughing at his terrible jokes. Hannibal zeroed in his attention on your lips. He observed the way they wrapped around the rim of the glass as you took a sip of your drink. The drink he’d picked for you because he knew you pallet better than anyone.

It had occurred to Hannibal a few months back that he was growing interested in you in a not so friendly way. But it was only when Franklin asked for your number that he realized how deeply he was falling for you. He wanted you for himself. And he would make that happen.

You were starting to get annoyed. Franklin was a nice guy but it was clear he didn’t know how to take no for an answer. You could see the way he was subtly, at least in his eyes, trying to flirt with you. It’s safe to say you weren’t interested. Not that he seemed to be getting that message. A noise rang out into the room telling you all the intermission was coming to an end.

“Well look at that, time just flies when you’re having fun huh?”

You gave Franklin a weak smile .

“We should be going, Franklin. Our seats are at the top so we have to climb a lot of stairs.”

“Oh okay.”

“Maybe we'll see you at the next opera?”

God you hopped not.

“Actually I was wondering if I could get your number.”

You froze, a concerned smile plastered to your face. Gosh he really didn’t let up did he? In a moment of pure panic at the thought of having to deal with Franklin calling at all hours of the night you grabbed onto Hannibal's arm. The doctor's focus moved to where your delicate hands were wrapped around his forearm. You looked up at him with pleading eyes before turning back to Franklin.

“Actually I’m already spoken for.”

“Oh wow I didn’t….realize.”

“Yes well we are very much together so…. Yeah.”

And uncomfortable silence covered the three of you. You tried to think of something to say. Anything to get you away from here. Before you had time to come up with something Hannibal spoke.

“Come on dear. If we don’t hurry we might miss something.”

You let out a relieved breath as Hannibal moved his hand to wrap around your waist, guiding you away from Franklin. You kept your eyes forward as the two of you walked. It was only when you were out of Franklin's view that you started laughing. You braced yourself on your thighs as you laughed.

“Oh gosh. That was just dreadful. He was so-“

“Annoying.”

“Incredibly annoying! Honestly Hannibal I don't know how you can deal with being in a room with him for an hour.”

“Didn’t seem like you were having such a hard time.”

You lifted your head to look at the doctor with a curious expression. He was looking down at you with a look you rarely ever saw, at least not directed towards you. Hannibal Lecter was annoyed. And at you no less. You crossed your arms over your chest.

“What the hell is that supposed to mean?”

“You seemed to be enjoying talking to him. Laughing at his jokes. Making small talk.”

“It's called manners, Hannibal. As far as I know you value them quite a lot.”

Hannibal stalked over to you causing you to take a step back. Your back hit the wall, making you gasp. Hannibal hovered over you, his eyes boring into your soul.

“Hannibal what are you-“

“Did you enjoy his attention? Did you like the way he was looking at you? He was staring so hard I was surprised his eyes didn’t pop out of their sockets.”

“What the hell’s gotten into you?”

“Into me? Weren’t you the one who was just clinging onto my body like I was your savior?”

You’d never seen Hannibal like this. For the first time since you knew him he looked like an animal. His usually neat hair was slightly flopping over his face and the expert calm facade he always had seemed to have slipped. He looked like a predator and you were his prey. You lifted your hand so that you could touch his arm. He looked at your hand on his frame. It was as if your touch was burning him. He needed to feel you but he was afraid of what that would mean. You whispered his name causing him to face you. You looked up at him with wide eyes, your lips slightly parted as you breathed.

He hadn’t even realized he was boxing you into the wall with his body until he felt the heat that radiated from you. He couldn’t think straight with you so near him but he couldn’t bear to be far from you either. It was then that he realized just how much he craved you. He felt like a lion who’d been starved for days and had finally been given a piece of steak. 

He was going to devour you.

Without a second thought Hannibal shoved his lips against yours. Your body reacted immediately, hand moving to wrap around his neck as he deepened the kiss. Hannibal moved his hand to your leg, hitching it up. You gasped into his mouth as his fingers skimmed over your skin. He enjoyed the sounds you made as he pushed your underwear to the side. His fingers moved over your pussy and he couldn’t help but groan as he felt how wet you were. Your nails dug into his blazer as he inserted one of his digits into you. Your back rubbed against the wall as he continued to bully his fingers into your cunt. A moan slipped through your lips before you managed to cover your mouth, the realization that anyone could just walk by and see you finally becoming clear.

“Hannibal we-“

“Shhh I’m trying to enjoy the opera.”

You could hear the opera singer belting out a note from afar. The sound was dulled by the heavy doors but you could still make it out. Hannibal hummed the song as he continued to finger you. You were trying to keep as quiet as possible but he wasn’t making it easy on you. He knew exactly what to do to have you screaming out for him.

“Hannibal please, I'm so close.”

“Oh yeah? Think you deserve it?”

“Yes please. Please make me cum.”

“Even after flirting with Franklin in front of me?”

This little shit.

“Hannibal please…. I’m sorry.”

“Who do you belong to hum?”

“You.”

“Speak up dear, I can't hear you.”

“You Hannibal! I belong to you!”

“That's right. Go on then. Cum on my fingers.”

You hid your face in the crook of Hannibal's neck as a silent moan ripped through your body. He felt your teeth graze his collar bone through his shirt as your mouth opened in pleasure making him smirk. Your juices continued to coat his fingers as he attempted to help you through your high. Your body shook against him, your limbs spasming as you tried to regain control of your brain. You knew Hannibal's knowledge of the human body made him good at many things but you never stopped to contemplate the effect his expertise would have on a more sexual context.  

Once you’d come back down to earth you pushed your body off of Hannibals allowing you to look into his eyes. You continued to breathe heavily as you looked at him trying to figure out what would happen next. You hadn't expected him to lean down and kiss your lips but you welcomed the action. You warped your arms around his neck tugging him even closer to you. Hannibal's hands made their way to your hips squeezing lightly at your flesh. You bite into his bottom lip as his mouth moved away from yours. You couldn’t help the giggle that made its way out of your lips.

Hannibal grinned down at you, his thumb caressing your hip bone as he continued to observe you. Your hair was covering your face and your lips were swollen from kissing him. Hannibal didn’t look much better, his pupils were dilated and his heart was hammering in chest. You noticed the wild look in his eyes and in a sudden burst of confidence you decided to move your leg up against Hannibal's body. His eyes darted to your leg before moving back to your face. You bite into your lip, your fingers moving to tug at the small hairs on the back of Hannibal's head. You watched his brows furrow a bit at the action. “You gonna fuck me Doctor lector?”

“What makes you say that?”

“The look on your face.”

“And what look would that be?”

“The look of a man who is about to turn into an animal.”

Hannibal's expression faltered slightly at your comment. He wondered from a moment if you’d understand him if he told you what he was capable of. He wondered if your eyes would widen in fear or if they would simply spike up in curiosity. You placed your palm on his cheek causing him to focus on you once more.

“You okay?”

“No.”

“What’s wrong?”

“I’m starved.”

Hannibal gave you a wolfish grin as his hand made its way to your ass. You gasped as he pushed your body up, legs instinctively wrapping around his hips. You steady yourself on his shoulders waiting to see what he would do. Hannibal tugged your dress up your legs allowing him to view your underwear. He moved his hand to his pants tugging at the zipper. You watched him in anticipation, eyes widening as he pulled his dick from its confines. You whined as he pushed your underwear to the side, positioning himself near your entrance. A gasp left your lips as he pushed into you. Your nails dug into his blazer. Hannibal braced one hand on the wall as he began to pistol into you.

Your moans filled his ears as he continued to brutally fuck into you. The sound of you combined with the sounds of the opera far away were like music to his ears. He wondered why he’d never thought of doing this before. You’d been to his home many times it wouldn’t have been hard to get you into his bed but he supposed this was nice too. He felt a rush move through his body at the thought of someone walking in on the two of you. He wished it would be Franklin, the need to show his patient that you belonged to him becoming overwhelming. His head moved to your neck, tongue moving against the soft skin before he sunk his teeth into you. Your walls clenched around him at the action causing him to let out a grunt.

“Hannibal-ah ugh ah shit- don’t stop.”

He was never going to stop. He’d feast on your body for as long as he could, in every way he knew how. He would never be satiated with the feeling of you. There was no going back now Hannibal would have to make you entirely his. 

He continues to nibble at your skin, desperately trying to mark you as much as he can. He wants to scare off any other suitors but he also enjoys the thought of you walking around covered in marks he’s given you. Mine, he thinks, this one is all mine. You're clenching around his dick like a vice which tells him you’re getting closer to your release. He wants you to beg for it, wants you to ask him to cum. It seems you can read his mind because without him even opening his mouth you’re already whining for him, telling him how good he feels and how much you want to cum on his dick. So he lets you but not before filling you to the brim with his seed. He wants you so full off him that his cum starts to seep out. He wants you to smell like him so everyone else knows who you belong to. 

You’re having a hard time getting your heart to calm down. Hannibals still holding onto your body, trying his best to keep you upright as his own legs threaten to buckle. Neither one of you speaks, opting to just share the space in silence for a moment. You hear muffled applause, the sound telling you that the opera has ended. You pull your dress down covering your body once again. Once you think you're decent your hands move to Hannibal now soft dick, stuffing it back in his pants for him. He doesn't move away from you as you straighten his tie or when you fix his hair for him. He lets you build his facade back up without any complaint. As you finish making sure he too is decent you place your hands on his chest.

“Can’t ruin your reputation, can we now Doctor Lecter?”

He smiles at you, his own hands moving to fix your messy hair. Then he moves to place a gentle kiss on your lips. It's a tender action which causes your heart to skip a beat. As the two of you share a loving kiss the doors of the opera open. People pile into the hall you and Hannibal are in, not one of them aware of what was happening a couple of minutes prior. You allow Hannibal to guide you into the crowd, his hand comfortably warping around your waist. You let your body curl into him.

“Let’s go home my dear. I’m dying for another meal.”

Something about the way he talks makes you think he isn’t talking about food.

[kijosakka]

ooouuuuu izzy i have so many thoughts about izzy within dramaturgy. so many

so im gna keep it a little nebulous here bc again im not entiiirely sure what im keeping/changing within WT, but this is smth fun i want to cover

to rehash another post: noahs behavior, his detachment, comes off to izzy as a kind of strategy. actors recognize actors or something and she does goes on to become one. she can tell hes compartmentalizing. this could also serve as a kind of reason for her to be so eager to swap teams, but again she sees how he flaunts his worst and gets voted off basically unanimously.

^ her intrigue in his lacking and finding out it wasnt in fact a strategy to further himself in the game, could also serve for why she picks him to team-up with in tddddi.

okok, so beginning this at the end to the tddddi special, i established in the post covering it that izzy basically drags noah into the water with her, thus making him apart of the action cast (that is, as an additional competitor and not actually replacing anyone). izzy sees this as an opportunity to learn more about noah, since he has to compete, right?

but come the time theyre on their way to the film lot, noah is nowhere to be seen. and izzy learns though being eliminated that somehow hes apart of the peanut gallery and not the cast.

< i imagine that her hearing about the [*]lawsuit courtney filed would make her think that maaaybe it has something to do with why he wasnt on the show.

and its izzy. shes been intrigued by him from the start and come finale she has every intention of seeking him out after the show if only to satiate her curiosity. only noah is nowhere. nowhere. and nobody knows anything either!

[*learning at the award ceremony/red carpet event that noah was working as chris' PA confirms this to her, for behind-the-scenes-adjacent reasons that im going to get into in this next section]

so noah has his whole disappearing from the public thing post-action, but he isnt the only one who goes on to do something notable after the show: izzy, for one, has an acting career.

and its shown explicitly that izzy is someone with a small-scale example of 'discipline/punishment' in her on-set freakout. she, unaware of the cameras still rolling, blows up in a manner that is made severely public and therefore completely dashes her livelihood and reputation.

this, in tandem with the fact that her even being an actress puts her just behind noah (and s2 geoff and bridgette but ill cover them later) in terms of former contestants getting close to Behind The Cameras, meaning that izzy has had a taste of both contestant-ship and employment (which are wildly different), alters her view on noah drastically.

and after having lost her career, it makes something abundantly clear about why and how noah behaved on camera --- being, this is the kind of thing he's trying to avoid.

and even coming back to the offhand ideas of sierra embodying the casts 'punishments' (as seen in the rb chain really kickstarting this au), theres izzy.

she meets sierra and the obsessive way she rewatches the show and picks it apart, and it confirms to her again why noah separates himself so heavily. and its not like its her speculating; noah is the one cast member that sierra knows nothing about.

^ hes just... so little. he has no audition tapes for her to reverse engineer his name or school from, no bonus clips, nothing useful in his interview, no cast anecdotes. compared to the sheer amount she has on everyone else -- she has a relative guess at his age and height just comparatively to the rest of the cast, but nothing concrete beyond his first name.

not even mentioning how he's completely disappeared socially. nobody in the cast has any contact info, no one knows his whereabouts -- hell, is this guy even alive? does he exist? was he a collective figment of the casts imaginations or something?

^ coming back to izzy; she picks up rumors about the rest of the cast and helps sierra run her mill. but theres something so distinct about the ones pertaining to noah -- unlike the others, based around paparazzi photos and interviews and gossip sites and behaviors from On The Show, his are just... there. they're so inherently baseless they might as well be worthless.

as far as izzy can tell, reality TV as a machine has chewed everyone up and spit them out to try and break themselves catering to the whims of the Public, and the only one whos going unseen is noah.

im sure this means something important and focal to their dynamic as teammates in WT, but i havent worked out everything for that season so i cant say definitively what it would impact.

you could spin it so izzy and noahs dynamic (and to some extent with both being Pieces in the Business giving them vague history/shared experience) is much more focal to the overarching story and his character growth as a whole and keep her in the game longer, or just have her influence his motivations to a much greater degree.

idk!! not entirely sure on that front, but izzy having that small-scale example of what 'being unaware' can do is pretty interesting in the context of this au!!

[vex-bittys]

Bittybones Chapter 8: Organics and Botanicals (part 4)

Apparently, my bittybones really enjoy trashy reality television. Corvus the Kara bitty, Egg the Softbones, Buttons, Yanberry, and Phantom stared enraptured as stupid humans (basically all humans) said and did stupid things in crystal clear HD with surround sound. I'm not one to look a gift distraction in the mouth, so I proceeded with my idea for the Good Boy Points, or G.

I started by digging a collection of small Mason jars out of the cupboard from my brief stint as a person who thinks she can make her own sauces, pickles, and preserves. Canning one's own food is an art form in which I possess zero talent, and I ended up wasting a significant amount of time, money, and produce with very little to show for it aside from burned fingers. I've learned my lesson though: just get store bought. My standards aren't all that high anyway (you did adopt that shirtless asshole…).

Since I still had the jars, I decided to turn my DIY failure into a DIY opportunity! I dug out another box stuffed full of forgotten craft projects that had also surpassed my limited talents. Choosing seven equally sized jars, I got to work decorating. These would be excellent banks for the Good Boy Points, and nobody would judge my sub-par construction (that's what you think)!

I adorned each jar with a name tag, leaving the lids off because I don't have the tools to make a slot in them, and I wouldn't know how to use the tools even if I did. I wrapped the mouth of each container with a different color of dyed suede cord: red for Red (your favorite!), teal for Brassy, blue for Buttons, purple for Yanberry, black for Corvus, pastel pink for Egg, and yellow for Phantom. 

All I had left to do was make the actual Good Boy Points. I wanted my boys to have something tangible to show for their good deeds. I took some thin sheets of balsa wood that, once upon a time, I tried to use to make (rickety) bitty furniture for Red. My carpentry career ended in a tragic bitty bed collapse (i almost dusted). Now I punched out tiny circles with a hole punch, catching Buttons’ and Berry’s attention.

I showed the pair of curious bittys the shimmery paints that I wanted to use on my wooden counterfeit currency, and they immediately volunteered to help with the painting. Soon, the three of us had created an assembly line, churning out quite a substantial supply of bronze, silver, and gold “coins.” Sure, Buttons and Berry ended up partially gilded, but we accomplished our task… just in time for lunch!

I may be bad at crafts (and building furniture and dating and paying attention to your precious edgy bitty), but I can whip up an ooey, gooey delicious grilled cheese sandwich in a matter of minutes. I even graciously added ham to one of the sandwiches for my little meat maulers. I handed out bitty-sized cubes of toasted bread and melted cheese without ham to Corvus, Egg, and Buttons and ones with ham to Berry and Phantom. With a deep, calming breath, I entered the bedroom to deliver lunch to the inmates.

Red snatched his mini sandwich out of my hands then turned his back on me to eat it. I gave his head a little scratch anyway, and he growled halfheartedly. Brassy accepted his sandwich with a bit more manners (kiss ass), but he still pouted while he munched. I turned back to Red only to see two cheesy pieces of bread somehow stuck to the ceiling of his bitty house while Red himself held the ham between his jaws and shook it like a rabid dog (woof).

The introduction of Good Boy Points could not happen soon enough, so I collected Red, Brassy, and the ruined bread and headed for the living room. An irate Red demanded the remains of his lunch (it's mine!), and I reluctantly returned it to him, expecting it to end up on the living room ceiling. He ate it thankfully, but refused to let go of my hand when I tried to set him down next to his bitty brothers.

As soon as Brassy noticed Red's clinginess, he latched onto the hand that held him with his arms and legs. I resigned myself to my fate and allowed each of them to perch on one of my shoulders. Red promptly wrapped himself in my hair (i didn't want to fall) and glared balefully at the world around him.

I sat down cross legged on the floor and introduced my newly invented reward system to the boys with the reality show playing, forgotten now, in the background. The bittybones crowded around to check out their individual jars, and I explained that all good behavior would earn the bitty a Good Boy Point or G for short. No good deeds or bad behavior meant no G, though no G would be removed from a jar once awarded.

By this point, the two bittys who had stubbornly demanded to be held (me!)(And me) changed their minds in lieu of investigating the pile of freshly painted Good Boy Points. I continued my planned speech about the G, telling my potential good boys that their points could be redeemed for treats at the bitty shop or grocery store, specially requested items if I could find them, or the greatest reward of all: special one-on-one activities with me!

(sign me up!)

Yanberry happily exclaimed that he couldn't wait to redeem his G for a flamethrower, which led to a discussion about things my boys would not be buying with their points. They were not allowed to “draw me like one of their French girls” (i asked) especially since the only bitty with that much artistic talent only wanted a flamethrower. They would also not be joining me or watching me during showers or baths (I asked that one). I made a blanket rule forbidding all perverted, sexual, or dangerous uses of G which made Red, Brassy, and Berry sulk. 

I concluded my presentation by placing the first official Good Boy Points in Buttons’ and Berry’s jars since they had helped me with the project. I then awarded a G to each of my bittys for behaving during my explanation. Red tried to argue that he saw Phantom winking at me, and I had to point out that I did not consider winking to be bad behavior (it's a gateway bad behavior!). 

I very politely neglected to point out that I do, however, consider stealing to be bad behavior, and me and my five well behaved bittys had all pretended not see Red and Brassy stuffing quick handfuls of G into their pockets like the tiniest of kleptomaniacs.

(how dare you accuse us of such crimes)

I guess they didn't realize that the paint on some of the Good Boy Points hadn't completely dried yet.

It's hard to feign innocence when the gold, silver, and bronze evidence is sparkling on their sticky little palms.

(shit)

-

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[ldysmfrst]

Reciprocal Synergy (1) - Hierarchy

Status: Ongoing series

Chapter number: 1 of unknown

Word count for Chapter: 1,853 

Work count for Story: 1,853 

Genre: Omegaverse Au based off KinnPorsche: Thai BL Drama

A little about the author: I am a mother of two beautiful children, one of whom has special needs, and the other loves everyone. I started a Patreon, and I would be grateful if you donated to help me make ends meet while I am out of work.

This is the very first story I wrote. I posted it here in July 2023, but I have now edited it and finally decided to add it to my library. I hope you enjoy it. I only have two chapters written so far, but I may get back into it... once I am healed up from my hospitalization and almost dying at the start of August 2024.

Each chapter starts with a definition. (thought it would be cool) 💜💜💜

Warnings: NOT BETA READ!! This chapter does have guns, violence, Alpha, and motorcycles.

Library of LdySmFrst / Reciprocal Synergy Master List

hi·er·ar·chy

/ˈhī(ə)ˌrärkē/

noun

A system or organization in which people or groups are ranked one above the other according to status or authority.

It is everywhere and in everything.  

From birth, children are subject to their elders; in schooling, students are subject to teachers who are subject to administration.  

At work, new hires are the bottom man on the totem pole, followed by the leads or supervisors, and above them are managers and directors; then, at the top, you have CEOs and owners.  

Everyone on the planet should abide by all variations of hierarchies.  

However, an internal hierarchy also comes into play when humans are between 15 and 18 years old and present as Alpha, Beta, or Omega. This would tip the scales and disrupt everyone's checks and balances of other hierarchies in play.  

Luckily, times have progressed, and there have been rights movements, laws put in place, and general manners taught to all.  Now, Omegas can hold positions of power, and Alphas can be the homemaker of the family.  Still, they rarely do as it is in their nature to act accordingly and submit appropriately.  

Then you have the scarce and highly respected ones that remain human and never present. They are seen as gemstones or purity markers and are coveted, not in a good way.

That is where you will find my name, Anikinn Theerapanyakun, in the books.  Next to it, Gender class: N/A Human.  Status: Second Child of the Main family, named Heir to the family business.

Once it was clear that my Elder brother, Thankhun—Beta, was not of sound mind after being kidnapped, and my youngest brother, Kimhandt—Alpha, left the family to follow a music career, I was the best and only choice to take over as the leader of the strongest Mafia in Thailand. 

When I never presented a second gender, it was seen by many as a sign that one so rare should be the one to take over. 

One would think that the transition would have been smooth and accepted, but that hardly happens in my world. 

To prove that I was the best choice, aside from my sub-gender rarity, I efficiently managed to turn a higher profit from our “trades” than my father had during his entire reign. This earned respect from many of those who served the family. The ones who didn’t show their proper respect were given reasons to fear disrespecting me as the new Head of the family.  

Some attempted to tell me that I needed to be protected by someone with the sub-gender of an Alpha. Both Alpha men and women came begging my father to mate me off just because I was only a human.  

It didn’t stop there. 

We even got a few offers to mating from the desperate Omega who sought to make a name for themselves as bagging one of Thailand’s top 10 most eligible bachelors. 

I have been burned once, a long time ago, by someone who wanted to mate with me… someone I almost gave my heart and soul to. 

However, there is still unrest among some of the leading mafia families in and around Thailand, and taking a mate would be used against me. So I don’t, trying to avoid any more weakness in my image.  I'm not saying that I don’t dabble in the pretty boy now and again, but nothing committed, always paid for, and no kissing is ever allowed. 

“Damn Italians!  Always trying to show that they only follow my Alphahole of a father!”

“Khun Kinn, we need to get you out of here,” Big, my head of security detail, yells at me over the gunfire and motorcycle engines as we run down the alleyway.  

Ducking, shooting back, trying not to fall, and not knowing where we are going or where the hell my security team is. 

“Ahh!!” Big screams, gripping his arm, “Go on, Khun Kinn.  I will try to hold them off here.  Pete says they are close.  Keep your phone on you, Khun Kinn.  Don’t worry, Arm will trace it, and I will always find you, Boss.” 

Big directs me as the bullets stop flying for a few moments and then shoves me down an alleyway filled with neon lights, smelling of piss, vomit, and booze. 

I trust my team as much as allowed in my world and take off looking for any entrance—the need to get inside without being seen becomes my driving force. 

Why is every street filled with people, dark, and seemingly without a way out?

I look down another alleyway, and I hear music playing!!  Thank God there must be a club or bar nearby, which means they will have a loading dock or patio where I can get in.

Following the music, I hear the shouts and pounding feet behind me, catching up.

Suddenly, the narrow alleyway opens to precisely what I thought it would be: a loading area, but it's not empty.  Even with death following behind me, my breath catches at the sight of a gorgeous, well-toned man leaning against the wall smoking. 

“I need your help!”

The man was startled at my demand as my pursuers busted through the alleyway behind me. 

Quickly, I made my way to stand next to the man, “Aren’t you going to help me?”

After taking a quick glance at the low-life thugs that are squaring off with us and a cursory head-to-toe spine-tingling look at me, the man smiles cheekily and simply says, “$50,000.”

“Excuse me?!?”

“You want my help?  It's gonna cost $50K.  Take it or leave it,” the man states over his shoulder as he puts out his smoke, rolls his defined shoulders, and cracks his neck.  “Do we have a deal?”

“Deal.” 

That is when the world just slowed down.

Without breaking a sweat, the man lays out all three of my pursuers, then smiles at me and bares his elongated K-9s.  

This man is an Alpha, and I just received protection with a price.

I hope he sticks to the money and is not hoping for anything more because I am not an Omega and will not bow down to another Alphahole. 

Slowly, albeit smugly, he walks up to me.  

He is getting ready to say something, but a flash of silver over his shoulder pulls my attention behind him, where one of the thugs struggling to stand is getting prepared to shoot him.  Without any thought, just instinct, I pull the man towards me and cover him.  

A deep, rumbling growl emits from the man I am now hunched over protecting.  

Why the hell am I protecting him now?  

He is the one getting paid to protect me from this shit.

Before another thought can form, the man tugs on my arm and pulls me through what I assume is a bar and out the front.  He hops on an older, slightly beat-up motorcycle.  

All I can do is stare.  

Why is that so hot-looking right now?  

I am trying not to get shot, and here I am, trying not to drool at the sight of a slightly sweaty unknown Alpha with well-toned muscles, tight black pants, and straddling a cheap-ass motorcycle.

BANG BANG

“Fuck, dude!  Get on!” The man yells at me again with a bit of a growl in his voice and starts the motorcycle up.  

Quickly following his orders, for nooooo reason other than to save my ass, I hop on his bike, and off we go.  The sudden jerk of the motorcycle startles me, and I grab onto the man's waist to avoid falling off.  Zig-zagging through traffic, time passes, and the speed slows down, but my grip on the man stays the same.  

Who can blame me, right?  

He is a friendly, solid, warm, burning wood-scented man driving, and I am a passenger.  

If anyone asks, it was for safety reasons.

Once we knew the coast was clear and we were no longer in danger, the man pulled into a filling station, and I got off.

“Thank you for your help.” 

I tell him while attempting to collect some resemblance of decorum with “windblown hair” and an “after being chased” disheveled suit.  

Silence.  

No, you are welcome, or no problem… just silence.  

Looking up, I see the Alpha look at me with piercing eyes, as if he expects me to pull a stunt or KowTow.  

“What is your name?  I need to know for the gift baskets,” I ask, which only gets me a smirk as he slowly stands up and walks toward me, still his gaze unyielding. 

“$50,000.”

“Oh that is right.  I do not carry a wallet on me.  Give me your name and phone number so I can wire it to you?”

“Oh yes, here you go.  I will surely give a man I do not know, who has no scent, and who used me to avoid being killed my number so that his henchmen can come to find me and silence me in my sleep.  I think not.” He smugly and growly informs me, placing his hands on his hips.  

The only thought passing through my mind is ‘I wonder how his hips would feel in my hands or his hand holding my hips instead.”

While I am blatantly staring at said man's hips, he steps close enough to me that a warm puff of air smelling of burning wood, like a fireplace, is blown on my face without me noticing.  

Snapping out of my what can only be explained as a temporary loss of consciousness and not horny teenage-like daydreams, I now realize the Alpha is so close a deep, quick breath would be all it would take to… 

DAMN IT, KINN!  

Think with your brain and not your balls.  

Sneering at the closeness in proximity and taking a step back, the man takes me in one more time.  Running his tongue along his teeth, his eyes light up, and with speed only Alphas possess, he has my left arm in his hand and is grabbing my watch. 

“This will do.  I'm sure it's worth enough.  You can borrow money for a pay phone.” Stepping back, the Alpha mounts the motorcycle, slips on the watch, and starts the engine up. 

Before I knew it, a panic started to make a pit in my stomach. 

He is leaving!  

He can’t go!  

“Wait!” I yell, startling him, “I never got your name.  So I can pray for blessings upon you for helping me?” I question, taking a step forward, praying that Arm and Big arrive before he leaves.

After a sideways glance and a fake smile, "Jom, my name is Jom,” he says as he rides off. 

Arm, my tech geek bodyguard, is talented, but I hope he is good enough to find this Alpha Jom.  He has my favorite watch, and I should give him the money out of proper etiquette, but the pit in my hand just doubled in size at the thought of never finding him again.  

I swear it is just about good business and nothing more… is nothing more… it shouldn’t be anything more... Right?

Next

Tag List - OPEN

@bethanysnow @braveangel777 @danielle143

[mystic-story-lover]

~Let Me Help You~

Let Me Help You David Finlay x Sage (Female!OC) Word Count: 4035 Warnings: 18+ Drinking, Swearing, Oral (F receiving), Fingering, Penetrative sex Type: Angst/Smut Summary: David Finlay copes with losing his Never Openweight Championship A/n: This was supposed to be a comfort fic, but sometimes things change ~~~

The history stood behind David and Tama, everyone knew that. They also knew that David planned to destroy Tama’s body, his career, and his chance at winning the title. Tama merely wanted revenge, and to take everything away from the Bullet Club leader, no matter how long or how difficult it became.

“Hey, Sage, are you waiting for David?” Drilla questioned, sliding a glass of whiskey in my direction.

“Yeah I am,” I sighed, reaching for the glass that now sat in front of me. “He wanted me here for the end of his match.”

The sound of crashing interrupted any future conversation we planned to have, and I knew exactly what that noise would be. Picking up the glass, I downed the whiskey in one swallow, and sat it back down before walking to the interview area. By the time I arrived, the scene looked like a massacre, and David was laying outstretched on the floor. For a moment, I stood in silence, giving him the time to finish his interview, and to wait for the camera’s to turn off.

“Are you going to destroy a few more things?” I asked, a teasing manner in my voice.

“Now is not the time, Sage.” He replied.

“Oh come on David, you and I both know that you’ll get another shot. Challenge for your rematch if you want, but we both know Tama only got lucky.” I spoke, the teasing gone, leaving me with a serious tone, and a man shooting daggers at me.

“Lucky? You think he couldn’t do it without luck?” The anger was clear in his tone, but I was done with it. Too often he acted like a child post match, and I was over it.

“Look, I’m not having this fight with you tonight. You want to break shit and throw a tantrum like a child, by all means, be my guest. Just know that I won’t be around to pick up your mess again.” I stated, not giving him the time to respond before I turned and walked away.

Considering my options, I knew that I could go to the locker rooms to grab my bag, but that also meant running into David again. The downside of sharing the locker room with Bullet Club. That left back to the War Dogs, or straight to the hotel after asking one of them to grab my shit, which wasn’t really an option. If that was the option I chose, I knew one of them would mention to David that I was there, and that would only cause the same issue we were having. Hanging out with four loud ridiculous men it would have to be.

“Sage, you’ve come back love?” Gabe was the first to acknowledge me in the room, but once he said my name, the other three seemed to forget their previous actions.

“Your leader is a dick.” Without another word, a bottle of whiskey slid my way, this time without a glass to fill. However, I rejected the drink, not wishing to let my feelings go that way.

“He’ll come around, you’ve just got to give him time.” Clark answered the silent question everyone seemed to have.

“I’m done giving him time. Tonight’s behavior set that in stone for me.” A sigh came from behind me, and I turned to see the two men that I’d planned to avoid less than five minutes prior. “No, I’m not doing this.”

“Sage, wait. I’m sorry for how I acted, and for how dickish I was to you.” David whispered, not bothering to lift his gaze from the floor.

“Good for you Finlay, I don’t care anymore.” I spat.

I walked away from the guys, ignoring their following calls, knowing that one of them would check on me later. It didn’t matter to me, not anymore, because as far as anyone was concerned, I was done with David Finlay. No matter how many times I’d try to get through to him, the efforts were left empty, so that’s where he could be. Empty.

Hours passed since the last encounter, most of my time spent scrolling through twitter, looking at everyone’s reactions to the show. Some fans were excited for the reign of G.O.D. while others were hoping that Bullet Club retained all their titles. The mix of emotions over Finlay’s match was clear, but as I continued to scroll I was able to see a tweet of Taiji’s return against Hiromu, and a smile appeared on my face. He was one of the few friends I’d made that was still around in Bullet Club, and to say that I hoped he’d win the title, or even be the final victor at the BOSJ would be an understatement. A knock sounded on my hotel door, interrupting the peace I’d been in, and a groan escaped my lips before I forced myself off the bed. Based on earlier events, I’d half expected it to be one of the guys, but when I’d spotted David in the doorway, part of me was tempted to shut the door.

“Before you close this in my face, can you give me time to say what I need to?” He asked, the solemn expression clear in his eyes.

“Should be surprised you knew I was considering that option.” I shrugged. “But then again, it’s well deserved.” I sighed, leaning my head against the door. “Alright fine, you’ve got two minutes.”

“I’m sorry. I was a dick to you after the interview, and I shouldn’t have taken that out on you. Especially not when all you wanted to do was make my mood better.” He bowed his head, and the sound of a sniffle broke through the beat of silence that laid in the air.

“Want to order a pizza?” I relaxed my shoulders and stepped to the side, offering him the chance to enter the room.

“Really? I mean, sure, yeah, that’d be cool.” He lifted his head, a small smile spread across his lips.

“Just don’t be a dick this time, yeah?” I laughed, but he only groaned in response.

“Well if you learned not to give out so much attitude, maybe I can be nicer.” He joked back, causing me to roll my eyes.

“Oh please, as if I have an attitude.” I spoke before grabbing my cell off the table.

“Uh huh, what about all the times you’ve sassed out the guys and I at shows.” His stupid eyebrow raised, sending a shiver down my spine.

“It was well deserved.” I shrugged for a second time, and he only rolled his eyes.

Ever since he’d taken over in Bullet Club, the two of us danced around our feelings for each other. It was obvious we had them, but neither of us truly ever asked the other on dates. Sure, we flirted from time to time, and yeah, some nights one of us ended up in the other’s bed, but nothing ever happened during those moments. Our movie night binges turned into crashing in the other’s room, but it’s never gone farther than a simple flirt, and yet, my body reacted to him in ways it never did with someone else.

“Or hell, what about that time when you wore that Rebel Club crop top of yours and told me to ‘take a bite of what I truly wanted’ before shoving three plates of food at me?” Again, with that stupidly seductive eyebrow. The effect he was having seemed to be hidden to him, but I could feel it within every inch of my body.

“You just looked really hungry.” I breathed out, trying to keep control over my actions when he leaned back on his hands. The way he body looked when leaning, and the thoughts I’d had of him in this position filled my head, causing an easy distraction for me.

“Hungry, that’s how I looked?” He whispered, before lifting one hand off the bed to grab my phone.

“David, give me that!” I exclaimed, a small laugh following it. His only reply was to lift the phone above his head, forcing me to climb up for it. After a moment of him moving the hand with my phone back and forth, I was finally able to grab his wrist, and I brought it back down to my chest before unwrapping his fingers from it. Once the device was once again in my grasp, I relaxed, and realized exactly where I was. Straddling David, and only a mere inch away from his lips.

“Yeah, Sage, I think I am hungry.” The whisper almost faint to my ears, but I was able to hear what he’d said, barely in enough time before his lips found mine. The kiss was slow, almost as if it was to show the emotions between us. He was the first to pull away, causing me to whimper from the lack of him, and he only smirked at me like the cocky bastard he is.

“David–” I started to speak, but he used a finger to cover my lips.

“I want this with you Sage, not just for a night. You and I, against the world during the day, and you against the mattress begging for me at night.” Another smirk, this time he used his free hand to grab a hold of my bubblegum pink locks from the back, and lowered his finger to bring me into a painful kiss. The kind that left you breathless.

“I want this too, even when you’re being a dick.” I smirked back at him, and a low growl came from him in response. “But I have one question for you.”

“Anything you want to know, I’ll tell you.” He pressed his forehead to mine, likely expecting me to ask him about tonight, or even something to do with what we’re gonna be. Without warning, I ground down onto him, eliciting a groan in my ear. The feeling of the bulge through his gym shorts went straight to my core, and I moaned at the feeling.

“Can you back up your words with what’s in your pants?” I panted, and the cocky smirk that once again appeared on his lips made my core clench with want.

There were no words between his actions, only the feeling of his hands sliding down to my waist. When they reached their destination, David let his body weight fall against the mattress, and used his hands to bring me down with him. “Oh trust me, I can back it up.”

“Oh, fuck, David.” I moaned.

“What’s the matter Doll, you need more proof? Want my cock in you to prove it to you?” He asked, thrusting his hips up when the second question arose.

“Yes! Please David, I need your cock.” A whimper this time, one that had David breathe out slowly, clearly feeling the effects of the moment.

“Fuck, Doll, I’ve barely touched you and you’re already begging for me. I bet you’re panties are a ruined mess for me too, aren’t they?” Another question, and a nod in response from me. “Use your words.”

“Yes!” I moaned, as his lips found my neck.

Suddenly, as soon as things started, they were brought to a stop when my phone began to ring. I’d forgotten it was on the bed once I’d gotten it back from David, and the ringing sound forced a groan to fall from my lips.

“It could be from one of the guys. You should answer it.” David shrugged.

“They can wait, I have more important things in front of me.” I smirked, but he only shook his head.

“Trust me, I’m not going anywhere. If you don’t answer it, they’ll all show up here.” He pointed out, and I knew he was right. “Besides, I have an idea on how to punish that bratty behavior of yours.”

David didn’t say anything else, so I took the opportunity to roll off of him to answer the phone call. When I spotted Clark’s name, I internally groaned, knowing this call would take forever. Still, knowing it was better then the four of them appearing at my hotel room, I accepted the call.

“Hey, Clark, listen I’m really–” I’d started, but was instantly interrupted by Drilla.

“Sage, how are you? You know David was just mad right? You know he cares about you, yeah?” The rapid fire questions caught me off guard, and a small smile appeared on my face at them.

“I know, it’s just–” I stopped, noticing David get up from the bed. To cover the silence, I faked a cough, giving me a second to excuse it. “Sorry, been a minute since I had something to wet my throat down. It’s just that we’ve been walking on eggshells about how we feel, so I’m tired of the games.

“David is just scared.” Alex replied from the other line.

A gasp escaped me as David pulled down my sleep shorts, the heat of his breath falling on my legs. A sly and cocky smile appeared on his handsome face before he used his tongue to lick a stripe up my panties. “Oh” I moaned softly, completely forgetting about the call. David only used a finger to make a shushing motion against his lips before he used both hands to rip the fabric from my body.

“Sage, are you alright?” A voice questioned from the phone. I recognized it as Clark’s, but it was clear he’d been drinking from the way he slurred his words.

“Yeah, yeah I’m alright. Just whacked my arm on the table.” I bit my lip to keep from making a noise as David’s mouth covered my clit. I could feel as he began to suck on the bundle of nerves, and I tried closing my legs to prevent him from continuing while I was on the call. He had other plans, however, and used both hands to hold them open before looking up at me with his lust filled blue eyes.

“Be more careful next time.” The stern warning came from Gabe, and I sighed from the pleasure of David’s tongue. “Don’t sigh at me missy.”

“I’m sorry. Listen, can I call you guys in the morning?” I said, my mouth falling open as David slipped a finger in my entrance.

“No way, we’re here to make you feel better.” Another set of slurred words falling out of Clark’s mouth.

“Here? What do you mean here?” I asked, suddenly pulling my phone from my ear to put it on speaker.

“We’re at your hotel, maybe three doors down from your room.” Alex replied.

David stopped in his tracks upon hearing the answer, and it took nearly everything in me to keep from begging for him to return to his spot between my legs. When he pulled himself off the bed, I saw the annoyed look on his face, right before the knock on my door. The sound of a call ending came from my cell, and before I could move, David pulled the sheet over me. He moved the few feet of distance their was to the door, and opened it fully, to allow the guys see that I was in fact just in bed.

“I’ve got a half naked Sage waiting for me to finish making her come, what do you want?” David barked out, and I watched as a shocked expression appeared on each of their faces.

“You could be nicer to them.” I laughed to which I heard a chuckle fall from his lips.

“Hmm, be nice or finish what we started faster. Which would you prefer, Doll?” The teasing tone coming from him caused me to smile.

“We could give them a show.” I winked at him, but instead of saying anything, David only shut the door and stalked his way back to me.

“Let’s leave now before they start again.” Drilla groaned, and I could hear the others agree in union. David and I laughed at the scene from the other side of the door, and as he made his way toward the top of the bed, he placed a kiss on my lips, forcing me to taste myself.

“Hmm, you know what sounds better than your face back between my legs?” I aired the question, and he raised his eyebrow for a response. “Your cock in the same spot.”

“I think you’re right about that. How about we find out?” He didn’t give me a moment to answer before he reached for my hands to pull me in a sitting position. Once I was up, his hands got to work quickly removing my shirt, and he let out a breath when my bare chest was on full display for his eyes. In a second, both of his hands had thrown my shirt on the floor and found their way to my breasts. “Been thinking about these since we started.”

I gasped as his fingers slid down until he found my nipples, giving them a tug for extra pleasure. As he kept his silence, David coaxed me back down on the bed before he pulled his own shirt from his body. Instinctively, my hands reached for his sides, as if it were to be a post match massage like I’d given him countless times before. Instead, David swatted my hands away, and began to make his way toward the edge of the bed. Before I knew he was fully down there, he’d removed the last of his clothing, and climbed onto the bed once again.

“David, please, I need you.” I moaned, and David kept climbing before kissing me once again.

“Don’t worry Doll, you have me.” He smiled before placing a kiss on the tip of my nose. While distracted by the kiss, I didn’t see David slide his hand down until I felt his fingers circling my clit. My back arched, and a chuckle escaped David’s lips, clearly happy with the reaction.

With no warning or time to adjust, David slid into me and began at an animalistic pace, and my arms wrapped around him. Using the opportunity, I drug my nails down his back, likely leaving red marks. David hissed at the feeling, his pace picking up, causing me to moan. The sound of skin against skin filled the room, followed by the noises leaving our lips.

“Fuck, Doll, you’re clenching me so hard.” David’s pace faltered slightly, and a growl fell from his lips. “I want you to come with me.”

“Oh David, that feels so good.” I moaned as his skilled fingers found my clit for the second time, my orgasm approaching quickly. I could feel the coil tightening in my stomach as David continued his pace.

“You feel so good wrapped around my cock. Fuck, could get used to the feeling of you squeezing me like this.” His free hand found my breast again, squeezing it, as the filthy words were spoken. “Could do this for a lifetime with you.” A whisper this time, one that probably wasn’t supposed to be heard by me, but the thought of spending a lifetime with him, it sent butterflies to my stomach.

Without saying anything to him, I reached up and pressed both of my hands against his cheeks. I looked at him, truly looked at him, and noticed the way the dark lust had left his eyes, leaving them with an entirely different emotion. Love.

“Fuck, fuck David I’m going to come.” I panted, still holding his face between my fingers.

“Yeah, you’re gonna come for me? Fucking do it Doll, make a mess on my cock.” David spoke, giving one last tug to my nipple, sending me over the edge.

My back arched as I could feel as my entire body shivered from the feeling. Three more pumps and David pulled out, jerking himself off before hot ropes of cum landed on my stomach. I smiled up at him, all fucked out, and a soft smile was returned.

“Here, let me grab you a cloth.” He spoke before turning to step into the bathroom. I whistled once his back was to me, seeing the clear scratches down his back and a clear shot of his ass.

“Been thinking about that ass since we started.” He threw his head back at my words before flipping me off. His laugh was like none other, filled with joy, but still unique in its own way.

David came back with a warmed washcloth, and cleaned up the remnants of what we’d done off my stomach. I sighed at the feeling, the warmth against my skin, and knew that this was going to be more than once. Once he’d finished with the cloth, he tossed it into the bathroom before grabbing his shorts and two other pieces of clothing off the floor. As he stood back up, I saw that it was his shirt and the underwear I’d been wearing that day.

“I’m gonna call one of the guys and have them bring my bag down to your room. That way I can get you a clean shirt of mine to wear.” David spoke before grabbing his phone from the pocket of the gray shorts he’d come here wearing.

“I can wear one of my own,” I protested. “You don’t have to go out of your way for this.” David shook his head at that, and I knew it was an empty attempt to stop him, so I only reached my hand out for him instead. He grabbed it, using the moment to take a step closer, and gave me a chance to pull myself up. When my body was in a sitting position, I leaned my head against his stomach, savoring the feeling as his hands began to play with my hair. Within five minutes, there was a knock on the door, and David sighed before pulling himself from the tenderness of what we had. He left to the door, opening it slightly before pulling the bag in, giving me the chance to see a disgusted look on Gabe’s face.

“David, you didn’t put your clothes on before opening that.” I groaned while still managing a laugh.

“Oops. Now go back to your room Gabe, I’ve got a woman to get back to.” David made an expression I couldn’t see, but it caused a redness to appear on the blonde man’s cheek. Without ever saying a word, Gabe took off, and David returned, bag in hand, back to me. He stopped as he approached the dresser, adjusting his bag so it was on the floor, and unzipped it. It took a moment, but he’d found what he was looking for, pulling out a shirt and a second pair of shorts for him to wear. Safely, he tossed the shirt at me, and I slid it over my head, watching as David slid his second leg into the open area of his bottoms. When he was finished, he started to make his way to me, stopping halfway to grab something off the floor again. As he stood, I noticed that he held the same underwear, and I watched as he tossed them into his bag. “Stealing those from you.”

“So I see. Good thing I have plenty others to wear for you.” I winked at him.

“For me?” His question was followed by a frown, and I knew in that moment he’d been thinking this was only for a night.

“David, we’ve both got feelings for each other, that much is clear, and now we’ve had sex. I think that could qualify us as a couple.” I smiled, beginning to stand.

“Fuck, I didn’t think you’d want anything past tonight after how I treated you.” He sighed, shaking his head.

“Sure you were a dick, but I’m a big girl who can handle that. Besides, I could do this for a lifetime with you.” I repeated his words from earlier, a soft smile falling onto my lips.

“You heard that, huh?” He asked, jokingly, as he took the remaining steps and wrapped his arms around me. “Good, cause I want a lifetime with my girl. That’s who you are Doll, my girl.” He sighed.

[longislandcharm]

PARTIES:@longislandcharm @the-lil-exorcist TIMING: Mid-August, right before this thread. SUMMARY: After being told the Ballards were the ones to go to for ghostly advice, Winter goes to the Bread Cemetery to talk to them. She finds Lil and a deal is made. WARNINGS: I don't think there are any other than death talk concerning ghosts.

Information seemed to be easier to come by in this little town than she had previously thought. It was a little strange that most of the people Winter had spoken to about her search didn’t seem to bat an eye at the idea of her researching ghosts but then again none of them knew she was trying to get rid of an actual entity that was following her around. Still, the fact that she didn’t have to go far for someone who was supposedly knowledgeable on the subject, much less a whole family, was something that kept puzzling her. She was about to find out if the person online was pulling her leg or not though. For all she knew, she was involved in an elaborate prank.

It was warm as she stepped into the Bread Cemetery, Winter shrugging off the thin lace cardigan she had thrown on at the hotel. She took in the beautiful pastries that she passed on her way to the counter and made a mental note to grab a few on her way out. But something more important was at hand and she turned her head back to the person who was manning the front end, only pausing to glance at the ethereal man who had entered the store with her. He kept staring at her with the hard gaze he’d been giving her since he first appeared. Winter let out a huff directed towards him as she walked up, not realizing the person she was about to address might think it was towards her.

“Hi…I don’t know if you can help me but I’m looking for someone by the name of Ballard.” 

Lilian tried to stop a yawn as she opened up another monster sitting idly behind the counter on a stool. Despite herself, she had gotten used to her shifts, and this was admittedly the slow period of the day. She should be doing something, maybe restocking or asking if she can get food for the others - but Lil was exhausted most of the time. She would do it in a little when her bones didn’t feel so heavy. 

She was going to take a little break and read her book   and drink her monster instead until the door opened. Moving the can to behind the register she waited for the other to approach closer, trying not to look too terribly tired. Instead of speaking right away though Lil decided to wait, noticing the ghost behind the other. It wasn’t uncommon for ghosts to be in the front of the shop, although Lil had a habit of ignoring them when they came. After all, most were waiting for Jonas not her - and she didn’t exactly know what they wanted anyway. Still, her eyes glanced over to the man that seemed to be annoying the woman who was coming up to her now. In any case she didn’t think she was here to buy pastries. 

Which was confirmed pretty quickly. “Hello,” Lil said, her head tilting slightly at her last name. It wasn’t particularly odd for people to not know individuals in her family, after all the last name was famous.  “I think I can. You’re talking to one at least. I’m Lil. What can I do for you?” 

For some reason, Winter had been expecting a grizzled old woman or a gruff man who had no concept of manners, much like her, when she found whoever the Ballards were not a pretty young woman who seemed to be around her age. She wasn’t sure if the surprise was written on her face or not but she quickly gained her composure as she cleared her throat. “Lil, nice to meet you. I’m Winter.” Winter took a second to look around the store and make sure no one else was there. Sure, she went on television and claimed to talk to ghosts and she wrote about it online but this was different. She could actually see this one and he scared her. That type of information didn’t need to get out, not with her career and the image she tried to keep. “I was told that your family could help me with some research. I’m looking into ghosts and was curious about a few things.” 

Eyes landing back on Lil, for once a hopeful expression was clear. From what she’d seen of this town so far it seemed like someone could help her with her very strange problem but for all Winter knew she was given bad intel. But she had brought her great grandmother’s book just in case this tip had been legit so she pulled it out of her bag but hesitated to show it to Lil. She would wait to hand it over until she knew this person was who she was looking for. 

“Since someone told me to check in with you, I’m assuming you believe in spirits. Do you think a lot of people are able to see them?” Winter should have come with a list of questions in mind because she was failing to think of a good way to start this conversation. Her mind kept telling her that she was going to be laughed out of town for believing this stuff or once someone found out that she thought she was being followed by a spirit then they would send her to a shrink but she had to start somewhere, right? And she was never one to be shy about anything ever so it was time to bite the bullet. “Because one is following me around and I don’t know why.”

Lil tilted her head examining the other in front of her, wondering exactly what was happening. It wasn’t that she was necessarily weary - Lil was actually pretty good at talking too and sympathizing with clients which was what she felt Winter might be. Still, it was always good to be cautious. Which was proven right when the other asked about ghost research, causing Lil’s face to stiffen for a second before returning neutral. 

She didn’t like ghost researchers - or whatever they called themselves. Most of the time they ended up getting themselves in trouble, and didn’t have any sort of mediumship to speak of. They made her look worse - and while she had given up the anger with that, it was at least a little against the usual code with supernaturals to give information on them. Lil made plenty of exceptions to that rule - she figured people knowing where to get help when there’s ghosts around was never a bad thing - but she was a little put off by how it was asked until the other mentioned being followed around by a ghost. Then she realized what it might actually be about. 

While Lil wasn’t about to tell people how to exorcize ghost - mostly for their own safety as they wouldn’t work without the proper training - she was more than willing to help someone who had a problem and making sure they weren’t scared through the process. 

So, Lil didn’t want to not help, in case it was more of a question about the ghost behind Winter than seeking out a dangerous path.  She was at least more honest than the fake mediums, so with a sigh and a bit of a nod she finally spoke, “I mean if you're asking if I believe in them I’d have to say I don’t believe in air it’s just that they exist. I can see your guy and also the old lady sitting outside on the bench that died I think in 1975?” She could see others around of course, but it was something Lil easily ignored. Unlike her brother she couldn’t hear them, and if they didn’t want to bother her it was pretty easy to let them be.

“Most people can’t see them no,” Lil said softer, trying at least to be a little bit comforting. “Mediums are pretty rare and exorcists are even rarer.  Is this the first ghost you’ve seen? Do you know him?” She nodded to the ghost, not bothering to ask him. It was probably rude of Lil, but she didn’t want to terrify Winter more. “Because sometimes they stick around people that they know. Although, if you can see him you should be able to hear him so you can always ask why he’s following you.” Lil couldn’t hear him in any case - something she didn’t really want to tell the other at this point. “I can answer some of your questions too, but do you want to come back? The Iron and the salt back here will keep him out here - Sorry man but sometimes it’s private business.” Lil said, focusing on the ghost again with a shrug hopping off her stool.

Winter whipped her head around to look outside, now seeing the slight outline of the older lady that Lil was talking about. She couldn’t see too many more than the one following her around and the ones she could see were blurry most of the time but the more she was around her favorite ghost the stronger the outlines were getting. It seemed being a medium was a skill to be worked at when it came to her and the more she interacted with them the more clearly they started to form. “I…hadn’t noticed her.”

The one thing that came with Lil’s answer other than a little embarrassment was the reassurance that Winter was definitely in the right place. This girl could help her. She looked back to who Winter hoped would be a mentor as her eyes widened with the amount of information that was being hurtled towards her. “What is an exorcist? You mean like a priest who takes care of demons?” So demons were real too? What the hell had she gotten herself into with that stupid ritual? “He’s the first one…I think. Is it possible that I’ve seen them before and never knew it? And I don’t know him. That’s the main reason I’m trying to figure out why he’s following me around.” 

Sighing softly, Winter picked the book up from the counter and brought it into her chest. Why wasn’t any of this information in her ancestral book? It was mostly diary entries from her great grandmother but the one page she’d found that explicitly stated the symbols and the chant she’d performed the night this ghost showed up. “He won’t talk to me. I can hear him when he grunts my way, or when he laughs at me or something but he refuses to talk to me. I thought I was stubborn until I met this ass.” She glanced over toward the ghost who was rolling his eyes until Lil mentioned the back room. His head tilted in her direction and Winter once again felt her eyes widen. “There’s ways to keep them away?” Salt and Iron, she definitely had to remember that. Especially when it came to her hotel room. Maybe she could start locking him out so she could get a good night's sleep for once. 

Yes, she was definitely in the right place now and more information could be provided. As long as this girl didn’t go onto any message boards for her show and start blabbing about everything they spoke of today, Winter felt like this would be a huge success. It was a definite breakthrough after falling short so many times before. “I think I was definitely reading the wrong books about all of this. I would love to come back and talk more about this with you.” Being the assertive person she was, she waited for no more invitation before she made her way back behind the counter. Good riddance to the man who hadn’t left her side in months.

Lil nodded slightly that the other hadn’t seen the woman, watching lightly to see if she did focus her attention to where the woman was - and confirming that she did Lil couldn’t help but tick a box. It wasn’t unheard of, that people didn’t know that they were mediums for most of their lives if they were lucky, but just seeing one ghost didn’t mean you had the gift either. It had been more likely that Winter had just messed with something that got a Ghost to cling to her. 

Lil blinked at the question, wondering exactly why the other had come if she hadn’t known she was an exorcist and couldn’t help but chuckle at the idea. “Do I look like a priest to you? No, I deal with ghosts.” Lil was pretty sure the answer was no, most people hardly found her professional let alone Godly. She had to admit it wasn’t the first time she heard that, and she didn’t answer the implied question about demons. “Hm. Have you always seen blurry things out of the corner of your eye? Heard whisperings by people you couldn’t match?” 

At the idea of the fact she wanted to know why he was following her Lil nodded lightly, willing enough to help with that at least. Listening carefully she did wonder what the guy was trying for. Most ghosts were cryptic, but hell Lil would have been annoyed by it too. Before she could say much about that though the conversation - and the person started moving quickly.

“Not indefinitely,” Lil said, not bothering to stop the other moving across the counter and shrugging to the ghost. “He’ll probably be waiting for you after you leave.” Still she moved to let the other into the backroom, not bothering to flip the sign that they were closed. She would hear if anyone came in and she said softly, “If he gets stronger it’ll be harder to keep him out. So I wouldn’t say you should get too comfortable with either. Still, yeah if you wanted a few hours alone a salt line in an unbroken line with any opening will keep you from seeing him for awhile.  Here, take a seat probably not by the oven.” Lil pointed to one of the many stools around for the other. “What book are you talking about? Did you read something before all of this started? Do you mind if I ask you some things to see what’s going on?”

The little quip about looking like a priest only served to make Winter feel more comfortable around this girl. Her lip rose on one side, amused by the tiny amount of attitude behind the rhetorical question. Maybe they had more in common than she had initially thought as she would have reacted the same way. She decided not to comment though, still reeling in her own personality. If Lil was anything like her, that attitude came with a temper as well and there was no reason to test that theory just yet. “Not really whispering but maybe the corner of my eye thing. When I was a kid mostly. A lot of strange things happened when I was a kid but they sort of stopped.”

Of course he would be waiting for her. After trying to ditch him for so long, the girl knew that there was no getting rid of him easily, if at all. It seemed he was destined to be the thorn in her side for as long as she was breathing. Taking a seat on one of the stools farthest from the oven that Lil had pointed out, she situated herself as she listened to the other girl speak about the salt lines. That was definitely useful information for sure. Sometimes a girl needed some alone time. But something did catch her attention, Winter letting a groan die in her throat. “What do you mean by ‘gets stronger’? Is he not already annoying enough?”

For some reason, Winter wasn’t quite ready to give up her great grandmother’s book even if she had it in her hands so she held it tighter to herself when Lil’s string of questions reached her ears. She knew that if she wanted answers then she would have to show the journal to this girl but not yet, not immediately. Winter had other questions she could focus on. “I was reading anything I could get my hands on that claimed to know about real paranormal situations and how to solve them. Not until he showed up though…” She trailed off, her fingers running absentmindedly over the spine of the text in hand. “At least not as intensely as I am now. But none of it is really helpful.” 

If she skipped over the second question then Lil would definitely know that Winter had done something. She wasn’t ashamed of doing a ritual without knowing about it per se, and she really didn’t care what Lil had to say about it in the long run, but something was nagging at her. This book was the only thing that Winter had of her great grandmother and reading through it over the years made her feel close to the woman even if she had never met her. Maybe something inside of her was afraid that Lil would want her to get rid of it. Not that she could make Winter do anything, but even the idea of such a thing tore her apart inside. “Ask away.” Ultimately, she wanted to put it off just a little longer even if she knew it wouldn’t last. 

Lil hummed slightly at the answer, thinking that it did add up that the other might be a medium after all and not just haunted. It wasn’t a sure fire way to know - combing through someone who obviously now believed in ghosts about their childhood and what signs were there- but well hardly anything Lil did was an exact science. “Did it stop or did you stop looking?” She said lightly, knowing that there was a difference. It wasn’t uncommon for Mediums without others around them to want to push out the ghosts - even if it wouldn’t ultimately work. 

At the question and grown Lil shook her head, a little more serious then she had been. “No. He’s not as annoying as he could be,” She said, glancing back to the lobby before shutting the door. She wasn’t sure how far ghosts could hear, so she didn’t exactly want to give him the idea of becoming a poltergeist. She wasn’t sure that ghosts could choose it - something more philosophical than she had ever bothered to learn - but she wasn’t about to risk it either. 

At the information Lil nodded, sitting on her own stool carefully considering what the other was saying without showing too much on anything. “I’m not surprised, although I’m sure there are some books out there that most people could get their hands on that do have facts right - most mediumship things aren’t written down like that. It gets all smashed with what people think it is, you know?” Not that most of the rituals would be helpful to most people. As far as Lil knew, if you weren't Medium rituals wouldn’t work for you. Just like she couldn’t create a potion or shapeshift, you had to be specifically touched by death to tap into anything. 

Still didn’t mean that nothing would come through with a ritual though, it just meant that the chanting wasn’t what brought the spirit - but the fact that someone was opening themselves to them. At confirmation that she could ask questions she started, “Have you had times where you don’t remember where you were? Did you ever feel like the ghost out there was in your head, not right next to you?” 

If she wasn’t a medium, Lil was certain that the ghost would have at least tried to possess her at some point if he was insisting on following her around. “Do you ever feel cold even if it’s warm out? Feel like there’s more voices in a crowded room then there should be? Seen flickers of light in a fully lit room? ” Those would be less commonly known mediumship questions. 

The question stunned her. It was like the girl knew the happenings of her past already and was just trying to confirm. Winter hadn’t exactly been frightened as a child but more pushed into letting things go by her father. “More like…I was forced to stop looking. My father sent me to therapy as a kid and I didn’t like it so I pushed it all away.” With no plans to elaborate on the why’s of why she went, she sighed as she looked away from Lil. Forgotten memories were threatening to invade her mind, memories that she didn’t want to think about considering she was about to be forced into therapy again by her production team and she was sure they would go over them then no matter how much WInter resisted. Right now she was here for the present.

“You’re not someone who elaborates very often, are you?” Pot calling the kettle black there. But Winter didn’t miss the way Lil had shut the door as she answered and she really wanted to know what the other had meant. “How exactly can he get stronger? Should I be worried?” Did ghosts touch people or something? This man had yet to come into contact with her but could he in the long run? 

That seemed to explain why her great grandmother didn’t write much about her own abilities. If it wasn’t common for a medium to do so then how was all of this learned over time? “So, I’m guessing that means a lot of mediums have to figure things out on their own? Is this not a hereditary thing?” That would also explain why her mother never showed signs of actually seeing ghosts. Winter knew that the woman had been faking her abilities since she was old enough to understand but how had this gotten passed to her and not the two generations before her? 

When she’d agreed to let Lil ask questions she hadn’t expected the ones that came out of her mouth. Her eyebrows knitted as confusion took over, Winter not exactly sure what Lil meant. “No, why wouldn’t I remember where I was?” Thinking about her other question, she shook her head to indicate another no. “There’s not a single time where he didn’t seem like just another person standing next to me if that’s what you mean. And no voices in my head or anything, he won’t even talk. Is that like a different ability or something?”

“You saw the shrug I was wearing when I came in, right? It’s not exactly chilly outside. I never really noticed other voices though, not until he showed up. But they’re not all the time and they’re not always very loud. Kind of like they’re whispering.” Why did this conversation seem like it was producing more questions than answers. With the natural curiosity that flowed through her, Winter felt like she could counter each of Lil’s questions with five of her own and she had to resist doing so. “The light thing has happened since I was a kid. I always thought our electrician at home sucked.”

Lil’s jaw twitched slightly when she heard that the other had been forced to stop looking. That wasn’t uncommon either, but it nevertheless pissed Lil off. While she’d never experienced it - quite the opposite type of treatment had happened to her if she was being honest being forced to look into the shadows - she knew that it could mess a kid up. It wasn’t the others fault though so she said softly, “Yeah, It can be scary if you don’t know what's happening. Sorry if I touched something personal.”

Lil raised her eyebrow at that, but it was fair enough to say. She wasn’t used to telling someone more than what was necessary - not because she particularly cared about the secrecy of ghosts or supernaturals- but because once you knew something it stuck with you forever. It was something that could easily worry someone to death and she wasn’t quite sure where on the scale that the woman across from her could handle.  “Worried? No. You’ll be fine.” Lil would make sure of that at the very least. 

At the other questions Lil decided it wasn’t too much at once to talk about them and said, “ It can be a hereditary thing. Most of my family is Mediums, but it’s not only a hereditary thing. Sometimes people are just Mediums out of nowhere. It can also skip around generations.” It was frustrating to not have clear answers on that, but it wasn’t something most Mediums thought to really experiment on. “So if you were born into a family - one that actively practices you probably would have known, but sometimes that doesn’t happen and people have to figure it out on their own or find other Mediums.” 

At her confusion Lil felt a bit of relief and said, “No not a different ability. I was making sure you hadn’t been possessed. It doesn’t sound like you have, and I don’t think he’s capable of that to be fair.” At least for the moment, but she really didn’t want to say that and freak out the already probably on the edge Winter. 

“Yeah you’re a Medium,” Lil said softly mostly to herself and sighed after a moment realizing she was going to have to say more and not just leave it vague. These talks always sucked. “Well Your electricity might have sucked. I don't know that for sure but those are all pointing to the fact that you have mediumship and were just repressing it to - well have less problems in society probably. I’m guessing someone else in your family saw ghosts because you keep asking about hereditary but yeah. That’s probably one of the reasons he’s following you around, ghosts are able to sense us like we can sense them and they - well get attached. Now that its happened though, you’re going to have to learn at least some stuff to keep them from causing havoc around you. I’m sure you have questions, so I’ll try to answer as many as you have. But yeah you’re not being haunted.” It wasn’t a congratulations, not at all. While Lil liked her job mostly, being a Medium wasn’t exactly easy or filled with the glamor that people seemed to think it had. It was limiting and at times awfully scary. Still, she wasn’t trying to imply that Winter was doomed or broken either. 

She shrugged the apology off, not even wanting to confirm or deny if it was too personal or not but knowing she probably did so by staying silent. Those memories were still trying to creep their way in and Winter had to shake her head when the face of a little girl popped into her mind clear as day. She didn’t want to remember her, didn’t want to remember what had her dad pushing her towards something she hated. It was a sore spot and if it had been anyone else who had brought up that part of her past she would not be sitting there being nice about it.

Vague again. This was going to be a challenge in itself. Trying to get information from this girl was a torture in itself and she had half a mind to go grab the ghost she was currently hiding from. But she liked the reprieve from his cold glare as well so Winter was inclined to try and weasel what she could from Lil for as long as she could. She was throwing things at her like possessed and it could be hereditary but could also just show up out of the blue and it was only causing more frustration in the long run.

But it was the confirmation of being a medium that caught Winter’s attention the most. “I didn’t know there was any doubt.” She was almost offended, her tone saying as much, but she had to remind herself that Lil didn’t know her. She could have been that fake medium from months ago just trying to get information for her show so that she could exploit this that much more. Hell, the girl could have seen her show before and known she was bullshitting the whole time. 

She only confirmed that her dad had something to do with why Winter hadn’t been able to do this her whole life. Well, at least by the time she was ten. It made her angry knowing that she could have had this stuff figured out by now, could have actually been helping the people on her show, but she also knew that her father had probably just been scared as well. In the same breath though, Lil confirmed that she would start answering whatever questions Winter had and she suddenly felt like she’d just been let loose in a candy store. This rollercoaster of emotions culminated as she looked back at the book in her hands. It was time to bring it up.

“In that case, I think it’s time I told you about this.” So, maybe he was following her around because he could sense what Winter was but something deep down told her that it had more to do with this ritual. She didn’t know what it was when she had touched it, thought it was a fake incantation that her great grandmother had made up, but after that night Winter had become a believer. She turned to the page she’d used the night her friend had showed up and turned the book to show Lil. “This was my great grandmother’s. It’s mostly journal entries but I found this incantation or ritual or something one day and when I performed it with the symbols drawn on the ground…he showed up. He hasn’t left my side since.”

Lil sighed and said, “If you were being haunted, you might have seen him because of that. It’s not that I doubted what you saw but possession and haunting is different than being a medium.” It would have been easier too. If she was being haunted, well Lil could have solved that. Now she had to be careful not to just get the other on a blacklist like she was. She couldn’t just exorcize the man outside, because well Winter would be on the hook too. 

Lil paused as she moved to show the book she had been lightly guarding away from Lil. Moving so she could look at it and not touch the book she was careful not to read the page out loud. “Yeah that’s a ritual alright, but - huh,” Lil said softly looking at the symbols not quite knowing how the other had done it with no training. It was reckless for sure, but - well she wasn’t exactly going to blame Winter for it. 

“You read this and he came? You’ve never done this before?” Lil asked her eyes looking up from the page to look at the other, a little startled it had worked. “I can’t read all of it, but this is fairly advanced for your first ritual. I also got a couple ideas of what it might have been, and if I’m right - well you got lucky.” After all, rituals could be dangerous and could have disastrous effects. 

She also wasn’t sure how much she could help Winter. Sitting back on her seat Lil said, “Do you want to practice then?” 

That made sense actually, Winter’s bravado dying down a smidge when Lil confirmed that there were other possibilities here. She hadn’t thought she was faking this after all and she needed to remember that Lil was the expert here.. “Do ghosts usually haunt people they didn’t know when they were alive? And do you mind explaining possession because I don’t like the sound of it.” What had she gotten into? This was starting to turn into the plot of a very weird paranormal movie and it was making her uneasy. 

Advanced? Well damn, her thoroughness towards the material she used on her show was coming back to bite her in the ass wasn’t it? She shook her head when asked if she’d performed this ritual before, Winter starting to feel as if she would be in trouble if she told this girl the whole truth. But she wasn’t going to hide things if it would do any harm to herself. She needed to understand what happened that night. “I have a show…it used to be my mom’s but I took it over about three years ago. I don’t know if you’ve ever heard of Spirit Speak…” The medium paused to let the name sink in. Never in her life had she been ashamed of being part of the production but now that it was affecting her she couldn’t help it.

“Anyway, um, when I found this I decided that I was going to include it in the show. One thing you need to know about me is I am a sucker for details and I want to make sure I’m doing things right.” When she wasn’t overconfident in what she was doing and she was dedicated in fooling others into thinking that Winter was the expert. “So, I researched how to say everything correctly, copied the symbols exactly…what do you think it is?”

Practice? That one threw her. Winter had not expected Lil to offer to help her further than giving her information. It was a pleasant surprise and she felt her nervous energy start to shift into an excitable nod of her head. “Yes, yes I would like to.”

“Ghosts aren’t known to be any more rational than people. They pick people to haunt for reasons you might or might not, you know,” Lil said with a shrug. She’d honestly not considered why ghosts did anything, in the same way she didn’t really think about why people did anything. It seemed like a pretty useless thought experiment. At the question she sighed and said, “Exactly what it sounds like. Poltergeists - corrupted spirits -  can possess people. What I actually do for a living is destroy poltergeists in a ritual commonly known as an exorcism. He didn’t look like one, but I still wanted to make sure. I’d have exorcized him for you if he was.” 

Lil hadn’t been expecting this as she froze a little on her stool realizing why the other was probably familiar to her. She also really didn’t know what to say for a moment, realizing that she probably shouldn’t be involved in this anymore. After all, her reputation had been in the gutter for this long, and working with someone who was famously a fraud wouldn’t exactly put her back into a good light with people. She was cashing in a lot of favors at the moment just to try to find her family after all, and she wasn’t particularly interested in jeopardizing that. 

Still as all the reason came to her on why she shouldn’t help the other and instead tell her to leave, Lil knew she wouldn’t do it. While she didn’t have any notion that she’d be any better then the people that had kicked her out, she at least wasn’t going to do the same to someone who needed help - and the other needed help. Specifically, she needed to know what she did and that the ghost was going to be stuck to her before she did something stupid to end up blacklisted like Lil was. 

 “Yeah that’s - you got really lucky then,” Lil said softly, considering her words carefully before she said them knowing that there were going to be a lot of questions. “I can’t tell exactly what you said, but it seems like you made a pact with the ghost outside. I’m pretty well read and I’m not exactly sure what she did here but - my best guess is she might have made her own ritual to do it. Essentially you made a contract with the ghost there - and he gave something up and now he’s bound to you. He won’t turn into a poltergeist which is good but -” Lil let her fill in the rest. It wasn’t uncommon for ghost to be bound to mediums, something she knew well enough as Blue was technically bound to her brother, but this was a stranger case.  “If you want more answers, I’ll have to get a scan or something of that page and try to translate it properly.” 

Lil paused for a moment, and realized that this was probably going to be more complicated than writing down the number to the ghostbusters. “I - so there is a group that you can go to learn, but I’m not sure how much they will like your show,” Lil tried to say amicably, “Not judging on my part just trying to let you know the dynamic. They can pair you up with someone who can help you with mediumship though if you follow their rules. You also probably shouldn’t mention that you’ve talked to me.” After a beat she continued, “They also won’t let you get rid of the guy out there, and to be honest if you want to be a practicing medium no one will. But - I can at least look into the ritual and see how strong the contract is, you might be able to get out of the pact if you really want or learn to communicate with him.” 

Looking at Winter she said softly, “Normally I would offer to exorcize him, but it wouldn’t be fair to either of you to do so. So the two things I can do is help you figure out what exactly you did in your ritual to understand it and teach you some things I know, or send you on to the ghostbusters. If you go onto the ghostbusters, it would be best not to associate with me though.” After all, Lilian Ballard was the Reaper, and probably on a wall of ‘do not associate’ with.

As expected, Lil’s reaction to her show wasn’t particularly a good one. It didn’t seem like it was wise to bring it up to any mediums with the she was talking about this so called group that could help Winter but it was out there and there was nothing she could do about it. They probably saw it as Winter mocking them but she liked to look at it as paying homage in a way even if she had no clue something like it had existed. Hell, she hadn’t even been sure that mediums were real until she was able to see the man currently locked out of this room.

All of the new information continued to bring questions to mind. So, ghosts could be malicious in nature, they didn’t need reasons for anything that they did, and there actually were exorcizing rituals that could be done that could get rid of them. This definitely was turning into a movie. There were still so many things Winter didn’t understand, so many questions that she wanted to ask but she really didn’t know where to start. She would be at this bakery for days if she asked them all right now. It was overwhelming to say the least. “Maybe, um…maybe we should take  this slower? This is a lot to process and I’m not sure everything can be explained today. I could write down more questions in a notebook and we can take them one at a time, if that would make things easier? And you’re willing, of course.”

She noticed that the other had gotten more uncomfortable after Winter had mentioned Spirit Speak but she hoped it wouldn’t deter her from wanting to help. She was talking about that group, saying something about sending Winter to them, but she shook her head each time Lil mentioned that. “I’d actually feel more comfortable if you taught me what I needed to know. I don’t know you but…you know everything now and they don’t. From what you’re telling me they wouldn’t like that I was doing the show and that’s something I’m not willing to give up so they probably wouldn’t want to help me anyway. Besides, I’ve never been great with rules. I get the feeling that’s why you think I shouldn’t mention you to them…because you’re the same, right?” 

What would happen to her great grandmother’s book if she went to these people anyway? The ritual was apparently an original one that the girl in front of her couldn’t quite understand yet. For all she knew, this group would try to take it away from her to be able to study it or something. “And I would like you to try and understand the ritual more if you don’t mind. But the book stays with me.” That was non-negotiable. Winter valued it more than most things in her life. 

At the fact that Winter wasn’t sure what was going on, Lil nodded and for the first time in a while smiled and laughed lightly, “Yeah, I am just throwing stuff at you. Sorry, I’ve grown up this way so I don’t know what you don’t know. I also haven't, you know, been asked so much.” It was true enough. She didn’t usually talk about mediumship in any sort of way that would make someone a mentee. Only the odd question here and there from someone who didn’t want to deal with ghosts. “Sure, I don’t mind answering things.” 

At Winter’s explanation, Lil wasn’t quite sure what the right thing would have been to do. She probably should insist the medium go through the Ghostbusters and get proper training, but at the end of the day Lil was a pragmatist. If Winter wouldn’t stop doing her show, then the Ghostbusters probably wouldn’t take her. Then she might be stubborn enough to continue to do rituals and not know what their effects were. So, while Lil might not be the best qualified - hell Jonas probably would be better although she didn’t want him to lose his license if she could help it- she was probably the only one in the area that would or could help. “Yeah, I got kicked out actually. What the hell, sure. I will say though, you’ll have to keep me on track cause I might think you know something you don’t. I’ve never mentored someone who’s starting out. You’ll have to tell me when you don’t understand, or I might not realize you don’t, you know?” 

That was true as well, Lil had helped other mediums at times, but normally they were trying to become exorcists - not starting out. At the request Lil nodded and said, “Sure I just need a picture of it. I would just suggest not doing any more rituals out of it until you know what they're doing. For most people they won’t work so you don’t have to keep it under lock and key like it's the necronomicon or something like that, but well if it’s a ritual it’s going to work if you do it. Does that make sense?”

Winter being mentored by someone who’d gotten kicked out of some secret organization for ghosts just felt right in her mind. It was exactly the type of thing that she gravitated towards on most days and she was thankful that Lil was willing to do this for her. And to be her first? That was special on it’s own. She could feel the unease of this whole situation starting to ebb away, her smile only growing as that feeling of discomfort became non-existent. Ghostbusters be damned, she had a Lil on her side now. 

“Trust me, I’ll have no issues in asking questions. You’re probably going to get sick of them actually, so fair warning. I’m a nuisance.” The fact that she was grinning at Lil as she said that should have been a clue to the other that Winter enjoyed being as such as well. By the time she met Lil again she’d have a whole notebook full of things she wanted to know and she was sure once the ritual was translated properly she’d be able to fill another. It occurred to her that Lil had no idea what she’d just gotten herself into. Oh well.

“I'll have copies to you as soon as possible. Or if you just want to take one on your phone I’m fine with that too.” She was eager, ready to know everything about this new part of herself and ready to learn more about why Lil was not connected to the ghostbusters anymore. She closed the book in her lap, leaning onto her arms as Winter draped them across the object, and spoke. 

“First question: How do you tell whether it’s a regular ghost or a poltergeist?”

[wonderfulworldofmichaelford]

Is It Really That Bad?

The 90s were alternately an amazing time for comedies and an absolute wasteland of garbage best forgotten. Jim Carrey and Adam Sandler both rose to prominence during this era, and both thrived in their niches, delivering some of the most well-liked movies of their careers. But it was still the 90s, and the ugly side of comedy of the time was always ready to rear its ugly head. For instance, in Ace Ventura: Pet Detective, we have the infamously transphobic finale, the joke the entire film has been building up to and is so shockingly bigoted you’d think it was written by J.K. Rowling. But bad comedies were just like that back then, and even good comedies could fall victim to it.

We’re not talking about a good comedy gone bad, though. We’re here to talk about a film with a solid  1 on Metacritic and that obliterated the careers of its two leads: Bio-Dome.

At one point, it was supposed to be a much more serious film about slackers being trapped and forced to survive in the titular structure, but you know how studio executives can be, and so the film was transformed into a totally radical 90s slacker grossout comedy filled with sex jokes, farts, and other tasteless humor. There are also rumors going around that this was originally supposed to be the third Bill and Ted adventure, but those are just rumors, albeit ones that you can see how one would believe considering how this film rips off that dynamic duo while cranking their idiocy and homoeroticism up to 11.

Whatever the case, what we got was absolutely torn apart by critics, and ensured Pauly Shore would never rise above doing anything more than direct-to-video garbage for the rest of his career, and turned Stephen Baldwin into the black sheep of the nepo baby dynasty that is the Baldwins, ruining his career which then led to him becoming a born again evangelical Christian whose daughter married Justin Bieber (which is still a massive W compared to inspiring GamerGate or actually murdering someone). It’s also the film that Weird Al decided to use to describe the miserable plane trip in his song “Albuquerque,” and the way he refers to it makes it clear the film is worse than the plane exploding in the second worse aviation accident to happen over New Mexico in fiction.

(This one being the worst, obviously).

But hey, maybe the critics were just being too harsh to this dumb comedy that was clearly meant to be enjoyed by stoners. With my tray table up and my seat back in the full upright position, I strapped on in and took a look at Bio-Dome to see if this comedy has a few laughs in it, or if it really is that bad after all.

THE GOOD

Well… The soundtrack is pretty good. They’ve got a lot of solid tracks on it, and Tenacious D actually briefly shows up for a cameo. It lasts maybe three seconds, but it might be the best three seconds in the movie.

There’s also a montage set to “The Safety Dance” near the end of the movie, and it might be the single genuinely funny sequence the film has to offer. I thought a few of the gags in it were pretty good, and it’s the only time the protagonist's goofy idiocy felt charming instead of revolting. And then it leads into the climax of the films, which is actually decent because there are actual stakes instead of random vignettes of these idiots dicking around. Sure, it’s decent by the standards of the rest of the movie, but credit where credit is due.

Finally, William “Walter Peck” Atherton plays a character named Dr. Faulkner, a guy who absolutely fucking hates Bud and Doyle, and thus he becomes the most sympathetic character in the entire film. You will be begging him to kill these two morons by the end. It helps that Atherton is the only person in the entire movie who is actually trying to act.

Yeah, that’s it. Time to shift into Hater Mode.

THE BAD

The fact the entire movie hinges on these two idiots is a joke, and not a particularly funny one a that.

The 90s was littered with all manner of idiot duos, most famously with Dumb & Dumber, but Bud and Doyle are easily the nadir of such characters. The big issue is they are not merely lethally stupid to the point they fuck up a massive science experiment—no, they are horribly unpleasant people. They bumble their way through the titular bio-dome, ruining the work of the scientists at every turn, but that’s not even the real problem. No, the problem is that despite having two girlfriends they supposedly adore, they not only constantly flirt with the women scientists in the dome, and even worse they crawl into their beds while they’re sleeping and start feeling them up. Ah, the 90s, where you could have your protagonists sexually assault a woman and still expect people to sympathize them while playing the violation off for laughs! Ah, but it’s okay, because they feel really bad about it, guys.

Aside from that vileness, the jokes are just as juvenile and pathetic as you can imagine they’d be. You have fart jokes, pee jokes, sex jokes, Baldwin eating Shore’s toenails… Stuff like this has its place and can be funny, but this is really the only humor the movie has. There isn’t more clever than some lame fart a stoner can laugh at while high off their ass.

And maybe this could be forgivable if anyone was actually fucking trying. There are two types of bad acting in this movie: hammy, camera-mugging idiocy (our two leads) and bland, wooden delivery (the female scientists). No one in this film seems like they cared at all, and honestly, it’s not hard to see why. What is there to even give a shit about? Out of the two leads I do think Shore is probably the “better” of the two, but this is better in the sense that being kicked in the balls is better than being shot in the back of the head execution style

IS IT REALLY THAT BAD?

Look, I went into this with an open mind. You all know I’m not above enjoying some nasty, trashy comedies; two of my all-time favorite films are Freddy Got Fingered and Little Nicky, the former film especially being one I hold in high regard. But… No, this one legitimately is as bad as it’s made out to be. Weird Al must be thanking his lucky stars that plane exploded over Albuquerque so he didn’t have to sit through the rest of the movie.

Like, in the movies I mentioned, there’s at least something to latch onto. Freddy Got Fingered is essentially the greatest troll in history, with Tom Green blowing a studio’s money to make the most bogus gross-out comedy ever, and in some bizarre ways it has some artistic merit. And with Little Nicky, there’s some entertaining villains, decent jokes here and there, and just a slew of memetic lines. Bio-Dome has absolutely nothing like that; it’s just two obnoxious, unpleasant characters being played by actors who definitely can’t salvage the material delivering the stupidest gags and jokes imaginable for an hour and a half. This really is the most bottom of the barrel lowest common denominator garbage you could scrape up.

Even still, I can’t particularly say it’s the absolute worst comedy I’ve ever seen, mainly because there wasn’t much expectations it would be good. It stars Pauly fucking Shore, the only guy from Encino Man who will probably never win an Oscar as long as he lives, it being dogshit was expected compared to something like The Love Guru or even The Master of Disguise. Those films starred genuinely talented comedians, while this movie just didn’t. Don’t get me wrong, this is still one of the worst comedies ever made, but it really was something I expected would suck even if I really hoped it wouldn’t.

I honestly don’t know how this managed a 4.4 on IMDB; I get there are some lunatics who actually love this movie, but there can’t be enough to pull this out of the bottom 100 gutter, can there be? It shouldn’t have higher than a 2.5, and that’s just being generous because there is nothing about this film that is so good enough that it deserves higher. 

But that’s also the thing: As bad as it is, it is utterly unremarkable. It’s just the epitome of bad 90s comedy, and while it is the worst among that crowd, it doesn’t really stand out in any notable way other than sucking really hard. This is a film bad in the most generic ways possible, and I think that’s part of why it has fallen to the wayside in terms of “worst movies of all time” lists these days. Like does it deserve to be there? Sure, but there’s just a lot more vile and offensive comedies than this to pick from. This is just a generic bad comedy at the end of the day.

If you want to see the concept done right, and shorter to boot, just watch the episode of Johnny Bravo entitled “Biosphere Johnny,” which is a parody of this film and does every single thing this movie tried to do and better, proving once and for all Johnny is a true Chad.

[cagcd]

     He was accustomed to it by now,   the eye rolling,   heavy sighing and unimpressed glares that often come his way whenever he opened his mouth.   It was clear by this point that his charm meant nothing in outworld,   though it was a fading quality in his life back in Earthrealm as well,   his last movie was bound to score well in the box office,   he had poured his heart into each and every detail,   but he wasn't a fool,   he noted the way the director was avoiding him,   despite the claim of an old friendship at the beginning of his career,   he was now a nobody,   a name very few wanted to be associated with,   if Johnny had an alternative for those fickle connections he would have discarded them all in a heartbeat   ...   the only one that meant something had bailed on him as well,   but the divorce was entirely his fault,   a mistake he hadn't realised to be committing until the very end.   However,   with the absence of one thing came another.   Even though those he had grown to view as friends throughout the tournament had been similarly bothered and exasperated with his loud personality,   the actor had valued this new treasure with a care he had rarely showed to such extent before,   for he knew this was more meaningful and true,   unlike those who had forgotten his name the moment the roles stopped coming.

  It was a new sort of delight he could not and would not contain,   Johnny had long since learned to be himself even if he wasn't against the tide,   [   minus the secrets and apprehensions he keeps so closely to his chest,   those were issues for his own to keep.   ]   Kitana was one of those few he had wanted to know on a deeper level,   something earnest about her drew him close,   as well as a hidden melancholy he noted at first and began to pick up on more frequently as of late.   Whether expression hid behind a mask or her weapon of a fan,   the eyes alone was the only giveaway he needed,   which evidently held a spark of curiosity the princess had done remarkably well in hiding,   can't act and fool an actor,   he lived his roles all too well to know.         ❛❛   Think theatre,   but on a larger scale,   and you get to watch it as many times as you like.   ❜❜        Johnny put it simply,   leaning back in his chair,   satisfied now that he figured it out.   Her purposed coldness would do very little to discourage him now,   he was a man on a mission,   his current one was to help this warrior princess live a little,   he can't even imagine what's her day to day life like,   she probably hardly ever had time for herself,   much less actual friends outside those with a worthy royal status,   awfully familiar to his own life,   but he isn't projecting,   [   believe it or not !   ]   he was simply trying to make a friend in his own obnoxious manner.   Allowing her silence to linger,   Kitana gave away more than she was intending,   bingo !   He only had to pull the net and she's in his grasp now,   there's no way she could refuse him.

       ❛❛   Oh,   If anyone knows ?   It's me.   I have a knack for reading people and I bet you whatever number you want that I have your taste figured out to a t.   ❜❜        he countered,   smiling through his words as he made it sound more interesting.        ❛❛   So,   care to prove me wrong,   kitty-cat ?   ❜❜

Oh by the Elder Gods...

It took a nigh-Herculean effort to keep from making an exasperated sound as Johnny doubled down on his efforts to get her entangled in his plans--and even then? The next exhale that left her came out a little more harshly than she would have liked, a sigh coming dangerously close to fully slipping free of her composure's grasp. No matter how tiresome she found his presence, Johnny was in Outworld to help preserve her family's legacy. She couldn't afford to anger him lest he prove as fickle in allegiances as so many others had proven themselves to be... and as much as she wanted to think otherwise? He was a capable kombatant that could prove to be the tipping point of victory and defeat. And so she swallowed her feelings, though she would be damned if she was going to open herself up to spending more time with him.

Duty demanded she tolerate him, and that was all that duty was going to get.

(If only she knew how he had to wear a similar mask at all times...)

A sidelong glance confirmed that he hadn't just failed to remove himself from her presence, oh no--he had gotten closer, even tried to peer past her fan to try to read her expression. While such put him right in perfect position to lose his nose for refusing to remove it from her business, Kitana abstained from such. Instead, she turned her head to favor him with her gaze, coolly polite as it was.

"I do not even know what a movie is, much less why you feel like I should see this warrior princess that will apparently be there. Why should I assume that you have any idea as to what I enjoy?"

...it's not until the words left her lips that Kitana realizes the error she's made. She's shown curiosity, inadvertently asked for more information about what Cage wants her to do. Not only that, but she's just unknowingly made one other truth clear; she, herself, has no true idea of leisurely pursuits. It seemed he was right about that.

[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.”

[captain-barnes-writes]

Addiction [1 / 2]

Summary: Lee Bodecker is fascinated by the young girl who works at her father’s store. 

Pairing: Lee Bodecker x reader

Warning: Age gap, language, mentions of alcoholism, sexual content, unprotected sex (y’all better wrap it in real life tho bc this is fiction.) SMUT. 18+

Word Count: 4k [NOT PROOFREAD. Any comments, tips, suggestions are greatly appreciated. My Ask Box is always open.] 

Lee Bodecker’s cruiser paraded through the town of Knockemstiff. He thought of how life had changed so much for him in the last few months. A man who was still in his lonesome at his age, caused by his extreme focus on his career, wasn’t blind to the fruits the small town had to offer. The more time passed, the prettier the girls got.

Vibrant sundresses, skirts that reached above the knee and them goddamn stockings. With the years the damn skirts and dresses only seemed to be inching up higher and higher up their legs. Most of the girls were timid under his presence. It was a good thing that they knew who he was and were more than well aware of the power he had.

Lee Bodecker was a crook sheriff in the solemn town; a menacing tormented man who most often than not drank his fair share of alcohol on a weekly basis. A lot of the time he was intoxicated with the moonshine he got from people he bribed. The alcohol always knocked him to otherworldly limits that helped him forget all that plagued him. It was his hidden secret, an unhealthy and disappointing one. A secret which he made sure to keep under wraps. Lee always had the election peering over him, taunting and glaring at him. He had to keep up with appearances.

Even with sore limbs, killer migraines and sunken eyes that didn’t want to see any light, he always made sure to clean the cruiser of any leftover canned beers and packs of cigarettes. He even tended to his own home as well, bagging the glass bottles and cans in black trash bags so as to not raise any suspicions. He was trying his best to stop, but it had become a habit that was hard to shake. Trying to kill one addiction had almost started another one, candies being the other culprit. Sweet little candies to quit the thoughts and yearning need for the arduous liquid that he’d come to rely on far too much.

But then there was another addiction he’d come to have for the past months. It was intoxicating but it wasn’t alcohol and sweet and tender but it wasn’t candies. The girl who worked at her father’s store at the center of town was the debilitating new type of obsession he’d come to have. Boyd Smith’s young daughter was as enticing as they came.

The store was small and slightly rundown, but had the necessities most people in Knockemstiff could need. People didn’t need much in the town anyway. But that girl was easy on the eyes and she wasn’t even aware of it. By far the prettiest in the godforsaken town and probably the whole state. Heck, Lee thought her to be the most beautiful on fucking earth. She managed to tug at his heartstrings in such a way nobody had been able to. Not in a long time, anyway.

When she first spoke to him, an actual conversation, she’d told him “stop eating so many candies, sheriff. You’re gonna get cavities.” And Lee had let out a loud laugh, though it hadn’t met his eyes as if the words she’d said had hit a nerve. They had, but he couldn’t admit it. Regardless the soothing tone of her voice, sweet and delicate, had reeled him in even further.

He visited the store so often, knowing when exactly her father would take his day off. Which were starting to climb up seeing as Boyd enjoyed gambling and drinking his fair share as much as Lee and would leave his daughter to tend to the store more often than not. So she’d be there in her most lonesome tending to her father’s store. He looked forward to seeing her doe eyes and skim his eyes about her gentle frame.

He often found himself wondering what she’d be wearing on days he visited. Being the daughter of a store owner meant that money wasn’t much of a problem for her family, and she seemed to be able to feed her affinity for pretty clothes. He always anticipated what she’d be wearing. Y/N usually wore pastel colored dresses, those pretty sundresses that reached just above the knee. The thin material at times clung to her body on the back giving way to the full bottom she was blessed with and Lee felt himself hardening just at the sight of her alone. He wanted nothing more than to tear the material off her and savor the innocence she oozed.

That day when she first spoke to him, he felt even more drawn to her. The delectable taste of the bonbons he’d stop to buy were of no comparison to her. Lee was either salivating or mouth dry like a desert at the mere sight of the store owner’s daughter.  On that day when she’d uttered those words to him in hopes of alleviating the rather quiet environment, he had placed the money on her hands to pay for the pack of candies as well as a pack of beers. Their fingers brushed and Y/N had almost shuddered.

“I’m gonna have to find myself a new addiction so that doesn’t happen then.” Lee responded. His eyes had met hers and a gleam of mischievousness and mockery were swirling in them. She swallowed harshly, suddenly feeling small under the presence of the town’s sheriff.

Y/N looked at him. Like really looked at him and noticed things she hadn’t before. For instance, the way his eyes were the color of the town’s nearby lake, a sparkling blue, and when he didn’t have a scowl on his face he actually looked handsome. Crinkles at the end of his eyes showed his age, and even with the soft protruding belly he was actually easy on the eyes.

Y/N blushed under his piercing stare, proceeding to count the change aloud and handed it back to him in a clumsy manner.

“One fifty is your change, sheriff. Thank you.”

“No, thank you darlin’. I’ll stop by another day.” Lee countered, voice heavy as his orbs continued their arduous stare on the girl who couldn’t tear her own eyes away from his. She was flushed, a color that suited her so well with the baby blue sundress she wore. He wanted nothing more than to take her on the back of his cruiser and fuck her into submission.

Despite all his bad qualities, the dominance he liked to have, he wanted her to want it too. What was the fun in fucking somebody who didn’t want it? No, he wanted her dainty hands on him. For her to run them through his hair, grip it as she was a breathy broken mess beneath him. He yearned for her lips to moan his name, for her tightness to grip him like a damn vice. Just one look at her and he knew he was done for.

Lee started visiting the store more often. Wednesdays, Thursdays, Fridays and Sundays. She’d be there with her pastel dresses, behind the counter tending to customers in a manner that let him know he couldn’t be the only one thinking of her this way. She was too pure, too celestial to only have one man pining over her. And he was right. He wasn’t the only man looking at her with hungry eyes. There were plenty of them who’d show up at the store throwing flirty comments at her and she’d try her best to deflect them. She’d do so gracefully with shy smiles, an airy laugh while waving them away.

Lee had been there when men approached her in the same manner he did, flirtatiously and with no good intentions. He observed how she’d suddenly become nervous, dropping change on the floor and sputtering out a few sorry’s as she scrambled down to get it from the floor. She’d smile at her suitors, not knowing how to keep them away. How to say no. So when Lee was there, he’d clear his throat loudly and tell them to move along. No more needed to be said, the men would scramble away from the store at the mere words from the sheriff. They were scared of him and the immense influence the town’s sheriff carried just at the tip of his fingers. Lee boasted his power in front of Y/N wanting nothing more than to impress her. He was no longer in his 20s, no longer the slim figure he had 15 years prior, but he’d obtained something that was worth showing off: the power of being an elected official and the town’s sheriff.

Y/N would express her graciousness with a bashful grin and a small thanks would leave her lips, along with a few offerings of free candy or even a pack of cigarettes. She was young, no more than twenty. It was normal for girls her age to have suitors lining up, but she wasn’t an ordinary girl. This was the girl the sheriff was pining over. He was completely and utterly taken by her and he hadn’t even tasted her yet.

Lee wanted more than anything to be the one who clouded the girl’s thoughts. He wanted him to be the first thing she thought of every morning and the very last thought at the end of the night. His own thoughts were consumed by the store owner’s daughter. Her beauty was amplified by the tenderness in which her tone of voice took when she spoke. The way her hair crowned her face so perfectly and the smile lines which took upon her pretty face with a simple little grin. She was addicting and he wanted her so badly. He wanted her as bad as a drop of alcohol.

For Y/N, or any girl her age, it was an honor to be on the receiving end of the sheriff’s admiration. The piercing blue orbs watching with intent, body language screaming that he was taken with her. The way he was an asset to the town, an important one that kept order, that took care of people like her. That warded off danger. She’d be crazy to overlook him and his clear feelings for her.

At first she’d been slightly put off at his constant visits to the store. Sometimes just to buy a single pack of candy. At times he wouldn’t even buy anything. He’d stare at her, initiate conversations that diverted to different topics as if he didn’t want to stop hearing her voice. As if her voice was the only sound he wanted to hear. At times the voice coming from his radio would be the only thing that’d get him to leave the store. He’d huff loudly, bark back an answer, tip his broad-brimmed hat back on his head and wave goodbye to her.

But it wasn’t long until he’d crawled his way into her heart. A slow process that took many months. Gained her trust with conversation and his way of sweet talking. Expensive chocolates and bouquets of roses he’d gone out of town to get would make their way into her hands whenever he’d visit her, almost always finding himself at the right hour when the store was at its most desolate. Just her and him. The beautiful girl was driving him insane, she was slow to give into him. Her shyness a tough barrier to break.

The town would whisper about it. The sheriff wants Boyd’s daughter. The many visits had made their rounds in people’s mouths and being the small town that it was. The townspeople noticed the black cruiser more and more at the front of the store, parked there for more than half an hour at times. And they became suspicious because what could take so long in the small store? It was cramped and only had minimal supplies.  All of Knockemstiff was talking about it in a secretive manner. They didn’t want to feel the sheriff’s wrath, didn’t want to light the anger in his eyes. But they knew. Knew that whatever his intentions were with the young girl, he was sure to get her. He was persistent and always got what he wanted.

Those many visits to the store turned into driving her home at nights. Though it was only a couple blocks from the town center, he still insisted on doing it. A girl like you could get kidnapped on these streets doll, Lee would tell her. He couldn’t believe her father would pick gambling with his friends over picking his own daughter up. She deserved to be cared for, tended to in the best way possible. He wanted to be that man for her; someone she relied on. Someone she could come to love.

At least the one thing her father did right was having her lock up the place early when she was in charge of the store. By 7:30 pm, she’d switch the sign to closed and begin the process of cleaning and making sure everything was tidy to open up the next day. Lee would wait outside for her in his car, smoke puffing from his lips as he took drags from his cigarette. When he would see her coming out, the thin material of her dress swaying with the wind and giving way to the smoothness of her legs, he’d close his eyes to gain control of himself and throw the cigarette outside. She never said she didn’t like the smell, never even made a comment about it as the scent lingered in the car, yet he still cared and wanted to be on his best behavior with her.

The drives to her home would take detours to diners, coffee shops and even to different towns as he felt so enthralled by her presence. He wanted nothing more than be able to spend hours with her. She didn’t even have to touch him, didn’t have to kiss him, but a simple gaze from her had his heart beating erratically. When she began talking to him more, not just waiting for him to continue the conversation, he felt the effect she had on him even more. He felt bewitched, as if the girl was his only sanity. It wasn’t the alcohol, it wasn’t the sugary sweets. It was the tenderness of her voice, her gentle frame and her doe eyes.

It also wasn’t long until she was sinking down onto the length of his cock on the back of his cruiser. She slid down in such slow motion with a heartbreaking guttural moan. Her virgin cunt wrapping him in such tightness his breath had hitched and eyes rolled in ecstasy. Her perky breasts right at his face and he’d taken a hold of them with his lips. Ran his tongue on the brown nipples.

“It hurts, Lee.” Y/N cried softly onto his shoulder. Pitiful tears landing on his clothed shoulder. The poor girl was wincing at the intrusion inside her. Lee deeply regretted taking her this way, her on top of him on the back of his damn cruiser. This wasn’t the place for a girl like her to lose her virginity. Hell, it  wasn’t the place for any girl to lose their virginity. The seats were uncomfortable and movements were limited with the small space.

“I’m sorry darlin’. Fuck.” Lee cursed, feeling his cock twitch inside the tightness of her walls. She was incredibly tight and he didn’t know if he’d be able to hold on for much longer. He wanted to piston his hips against her sweet place, fuck her until she was crying. But she was already crying on his shoulder and it wasn’t even out of pleasure.

She stayed there for a couple seconds, trying to recover herself while being bombarded with sinful thoughts as she sat on his length. She was able to get a hold of herself, feeling a little better with the sheriff’s large hand drawing soothing circles on her bare back. His pink lips were against hers in soft kisses that had her head swirling. The taste of alcohol present on his tongue was a strong comparison to her minty mouth. Him, so imperfect and troubled. Her, innocent and pure. She picked her head up again. Her doe eyes found him in the darkness of the cruiser, the abandoned lot a few minutes out of town was desolate and dark.

Without any warning, her lower body elevated just slightly and came back down again. Lee let out a shaky breath and his hands had immediately slid down to the smooth skin of her ass, fingers marking the fullness of it. She was a mess above him, mouth hanging open with the sweetest moans falling loose. She began to slowly sink down on him again, building a tortuous movement of raising herself up and coming back down. The pain was still present but the sight of the sheriff being patient and not forcing her to move had been incentive enough for her to push the aching pain away. He was already inside her anyways, her chastity a thing of the past.

Lee’s strong hand grabbed the back of Y/N’s neck and pushed their lips together. She was still adjusting to him, moving slow to his standards, so he wanted to control at least one area of the sinful acts that were taking place. His kiss was rough and messy. His teeth took hold of her plump bottom lip and bit it until she shrieked into his mouth. Her dainty hands fisted at his hair.

The movements of her hips were reluctant and inexperienced. The flow of them slow, faltering even at the discomfort of the intrusion. The prodding inside her still stung and her eyes shut tightly when his cock hit a spot inside her that made her feel weak. Lee noticed and the hold on her ass tightened as brought her down at a faster pace. He wanted to fuck her so hard she would see stars on the roof of the cruiser, but she was still visibly aching.

Lee’s lips traveled down her jaw, kissing her there just slightly to bring any comfort to her, before they made their way to the valley of her breasts. She was bare, the baby yellow dress had been unbuttoned and thrown on the floor carelessly. She was unbelievably soft. Skin so delicate and smooth, breasts and ass etched with white stretch marks. His babygirl was so divine and heavenly and he’d just taken her innocence, her purity, on the back of his cruiser.

He was a bastard for not taking her to his home. On his bed. But this had been so sudden, a date to the outskirts of a different town had turned into them kissing like their lives depended on it. He’d conveniently found the empty lot and he couldn’t wait any longer, feeling as if he didn’t bury himself inside her he would explode.

His hips had began to lift themselves off the cold backseat meeting hers in the middle. She was reduced to a string of breathy moans; a beautiful mess before him. His dick was enveloped in her folds, bathing in her sweet juices. The sounds of drenched skin slapping against one another, loud and stained. The air inside the car was stuffy and lingered with the smell of their arousal. He felt like he’d come any second as he felt the familiar sensation building inside him.

“I want to put a baby right in here.” Lee’s hand stopped at her belly, the skin soft and warm. He was already crazy for her. With a single taste of her and he wanted more. He could picture his girl’s belly huge with his baby growing inside her. Maybe that would get him to stop craving the taste of alcohol, to stop wanting to replace his addiction with candies. He wanted her to be his only sane addiction.

Y/N stuttered at his words. Her eyes had widened and hands gripped his shoulders at the rapid movements of his hips. She was rendered silent as her mind swirled with the possibility of carrying Lee Bodecker’s baby. She didn’t know what to think of it. Girls her age were already carrying babies, married even.

But the townspeople chastised and judged those girls who gave away the very thing that made them good in the eyes of the lord, their savior, and she had done just that. Given away the one thing she’d held onto for more than two decades, cherished it, boxed it off and wrote it off for somebody whom she’d marry. The preacher of her church called it a “gift”, a mere pseudonym, and apparently a more appropriate and contained word, for a girl’s virginity. In her town, chastity from girls, taking care of that one gift for a nice man who would care for them was an important thing. But for Y/N, it was too late to look back.

“You heard me, darlin’?” Lee quipped again, hand grasping her jaw to get her to look at him. His azure eyes were laced with lust, swirling with it as his cock hit her sweet spot again and again. What could she say when he was taking the pain away and replacing it with delicious ecstasy?

“Yes, Lee.” She moaned loudly. A foreign heat had pooled in her stomach, the pistoning of his dick inside her driving her closer to a delirious state. Y/N was bouncing on him with his help and she couldn’t help but look at the man whom she’d grown to be fond of for the last few months. Fond was probably not the right term, but she’d only even kissed a boy before and it had been her senior year of high school, so long ago she didn’t even know what she was feeling. It was immeasurable. The grown man whose advances had made hordes of butterflies swirl in her stomach, made her breath quicken and at the sight of him her heart swelled.

“I’m gonna cum inside that sweet pussy of yours.” His words were foul, hips faltering as he felt the tightness of her cunt constricting the living daylights out of him. She had broken down before him, body spasming as an orgasm ripped through her in shocking waves.

“Oh my god oh my god.” She breathed out loudly, her folds seizing him in a shuddering way. Gripping so tight he couldn’t help but come only a mere seconds after her. His hips jolted, climax hitting him with such strength it had forced a string of curse words from his mouth. His cum seeped inside her like ribbons, painting her walls with his warm seed.

When they rode out their high, bodies covered in salty sweat and breathing somewhat steady, Lee grabbed her face and brought their lips together in another kiss. It was short and wet, his tongue swiping against hers. When he pulled away, he looked at the odd expression etched on her face.

“What am I gonna tell my daddy, sheriff?” She asked softly. Brows furrowed in worry. “It’s so late.”

“Your daddy doesn’t give a damn. He’s probably drunk off his ass while gambling.” Lee bit. He was right about her father, he was most likely drunk or gambling. Probably both. Lee was gonna take care of his girl now. Claim her. He had already taken her most precious gift anyway.

He wasn’t going to fuck her on the back of a cruiser. She didn’t belong there, not tainting the backseat of his car, not in an abandoned parking lot. The next time he fucked her he was going to plow into her on his bed. In his house. Because that’s where her sweetness belonged; tangled in his covers, a moaning mess beneath him. She should’ve been waiting for him to come home from a long day of work, arms out steady for him to fall on, lips ready to take his. She was more addicting than glasses of moonshine, more so than candy. Intoxicatingly beautiful, sweet and innocent.

“You’re mine now darlin.”

----

hope y'all enjoy lol I actually liked writing this so might make a second part. Who knows 💀🥴

Dividers can be found here by @writeyourmindaway. Ty!

[husbandohunter]

May I request a Childe X Reader fanfic where the reader has been pushing herself too hard lately and so Childe has to forcefully get her to rest? ty

By my side [Childe x Reader]//Genshin Impact

Synopsis: You were an artist and he was an adventurer. Two people from vast backgrounds and Childe just wants to spend some time of his busy life with you. However, things didn't really go his way...at first.

(Childe x F!reader. Its all fluff)

(A/n): Perfect request anon. I too, would like to have a Childe in my life. Been getting 5-6 hours of sleep on average 😃😁. Yeah kind tossed some extra ideas with artist s/o, its a perfect reason for anyone to be busy.

============================

Once recieving the permission to take a week off from his diplomatic duties, the first thing Childe thought of was none other than his lovely significant other.

The harbinger knew quite well what lays ahead of his ventures to Liyue. During his quest for the archon's gnosis, he encountered many interesting events, such as meeting the rumoured traveller hailing from afar and a broke yet courteous man who turned out to be the ultimate ruler of this very country he walks upon then there was the battle against a dead god until he revived it using the sigil of permission. All of them were great additions to his story as Ajax the hero, something he always wanted to pursue since childhood. In which, also gave him something nice to write about when preparing letters for his siblings living back home. But little did the harbinger know that he'll one day bump into the heroine. A little too soon. Through your little art shop, he met you, a sweet and audacious woman with plenty of humour. That was how it all began.

While he strides down the streets between Liyue's exquisite buildings, Childe suddenly stops in his tracks and looks up to the sky. There, was painted a scenery of an evening dusk, sun rays relfected across until red and orange hues cast a river stream that led to the ends of the world. He watched the birds follow that streak like it was a path made for them to fly towards. A new adventure. You would have loved to captured this in your pictures.

And then he wonders, what might you be painting right now?

"Hey babe, I'm home~"

In a sing-song voice he calls out to you by your nick-name. You knew that Childe was an active member of the Fatui and that his time was limited, hence he made sure to write to you as well. Of course long distant relationships only makes the waiting more anticipated. When he does pay a visit, you'd run straight into his open arms, leaping off your feet to engulf him in one enourmous embrace. Then his hands will hold against your waist as he spins your round and around in the air, stealing the laughter out of your lungs before planting you back on the floor. Sometimes Childe would consider that being far away wasn't be such a bad idea as long as he was able to experience this, the harder the battle, the sweeter the victory. However...

"That's great."

He was met by a response similar to the wintry grace of Snezhnaya.

Huh?

All the fantasies he had from earlier shatters in the background as he stands there frozen. You didn't even spare a glance to the entrance, eyes still glued to the large canvas displayed at your front, too busy to even care. Childe clicks his tongue between the awkward silence with an uncertain expression. When there was no signs of initiation on your part, he shuffled his way to where you were and observes from behind.

"Well you're particularly quiet today," he muses to himself, placing a hand over his hip, "I guess that painting of yours must be really important then."

It was obvious that he was trying to nudge you into his favour. Something that you've found endearing was how quickly your boyfriend can be when he's in a needy state. So you quickly twisted over to peck him on the cheek before going back to work.

"That's better," Childe satisfiedly grins, "So who is this project for?"

"It's a commission requested by a wealthy family serving the Qixing. They're really influential in terms of the market and can really give me a competitive edge. I have to get it done in five days."

His tone flactuates as he squints his eyes, "Five days you say," he disliked the news of your schedule taking over his own, Childe only managed to take a week off and after that, he'll be away for quite some time, "Why don't you take a break? From the looks of your progress, it seems to me that you've been working on it for hours. I've got plenty of interesting stories to tell and you know, nothing can compare to sharing a warm meal within your company," he leans down to your ear level, "How does that sound?"

Several seconds went by as he waits for some sort of reaction, "Oh. Right," you blurted out and the harbinger only smiles, "I made some food earlier this morning. You can go help yourself if you're hungry."

Today was not his day.

Childe pulls out the wooden chair and slumps into the seat, a defeated huff escaping his mouth as he stared at the crystal shrimp placed on the table. It was hastily wrapped by plastic, most likely cold for a while, just like the romantic evening he had planned in his head. Normally you'll be sitting on the otherside while listening to the many tales he went through along the way. Although painting was your passion, it was undeniable that you also enjoyed his kind of lifestyle if you ever had the choice. He was rather surprised on how someone ambitious like him would end up with such a simplistic person but quickly accepted it as life was meant to be unpredictable, just the way he likes it. As Childe entertains you with his stories, he'll listen to your giggles amidst eating the homecooked meals that you both prepared together.

"I wonder if she ate already," he mumbled to his lone self. You most likely did but Childe knows you well. Artists are obsessed and they can go as far as to neglecting their own health for the sake of their masterpieces. Hence, he made sure to remind you to eat properly through the letters he wrote to you.

The harbinger takes a quick glance around the kitchen. It was a mess. The cupboards were slightly opened, metal pots were still displayed on the stone stove and the stench coming from the sink....

Childe pushes himsel up to see what was the cause.

Not even the dishes were washed.

Running his fingers through his bangs, he sighs wearily, "Old habits die hard huh?" And above all else, when artists are obsessed they also forget how disorganized they can become. Childe begins to roll up his sleeves before taking off his gloves. At times like this he'll have to pitch in and take care of it for you, "Looks like I'll be here for a while."

Throughout three sunsets and three moonrises, Childe had no option but to observe you from afar, minus the few attempts he made to regain your attention again. How you would go to bed much later than him, waking up before he opens his eyes and the effort he put into making your food only left with too many leftovers. It wasn't that you were unappreciative, instead, your mind had become too focused that your body was considered a second priority. Like anyone else, Childe genuinely thought you possessed great talent and supports you wholeheartedly. He loved it when you painted pictures just for him as if they were scenes coming out of his hero story, reminded by his adventures, capturing every detail. However he also needed to learn how to deal with this stubborn side of yours.

"Hey babe, I just finished preparing our dinner. Don't you smell that? Such a rich aroma, you should go eat."

"I'm busy."

Your diet were just small bites, the rest being substituted by coffee. Childe could clearly tell that you weren't getting enough sleep either as there were dark circles forming underneath your eyes and slowly, he was starting to become a little irritated.

Three hours passed midnight but you were still awake in the same place doing the same thing. Childe leans against the doorframe with arms folded, already changed into his sleeping clothes. He clears his throat to break the silence, "Ahem."

Your wrist hangs in mid air by the sound of a strange visitor, it was your boyfriend. Gaze in a daze, you lazily turned your head, "What time is it?"

"Way passed the sleeping hours as you can see," he points with his thumb at the table clock in a half-hearted manner, "You should already be in bed by now and don't think you can coax yourself out of the situation this time," his eyes parted in slits as he added with a smile, "Otherwise I might just have to force you myself."

You shook your head, "Give me one more hour? There's some finishing touches I really want to add so," clasping your hands together, you beamed sweetly, "Pretty please? I'll finish up soon."

"Oh really?" Childe challenges, head tossed back like he was interrogating you instead, "I believe that was also what you told me yesterday. And the day before? Adding up all of those days that would be.....four in total?" He deliberately counts upon his fingers before facing you again, this time his expression was slightly more serious, "As much as I find your determination remarkable, there are moments when you need to consider a sufficient amount of rest and this just isn't going to cut it."

"Four days already?!" You exclaimed, "Jeez, I don't even know if I'm halfway done."

Pressing his lips together, Childe glares in an acutely deadpanned countenance, it was also his time too, "Can't you ask this commissioner to extend your due date to next week? In your case, mora shouldn't be the issue since, well...you're dating me anyways."

It's true. Childe was the main reason why you didn't have to live as a starving artist. He had all your expenses fully covered from the marketing aspect to your residence, you simply chose to work out of pure will.

"I don't want to always rely on you so much," you confessed, "This commissioner could turn my whole career around. If I'm able to gain his favour, maybe I'll get promoted to a court painter for the Qixing! Who knows when there will ever be a chance like this again," pumping your fists, you spoke purposefully, "I'll pull an all nighters if I have to!"

Childe brings his hand to his forehead, you looked as if you were nearly about to collapse and yet still considering the option of an all-nighters? The harbinger should've detained you days prior before.

"Hm? Childe, what's wrong?" He suddenly falls deadly quiet and you watched him walk closer towards you, "What are--"

Hooking an arm behind your knees and the other at your back, your boyfriend lifts you up in one full swoop as he tossed you over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes.

"Guess we'll have to do things the hard way," he remarks cheerfully.

"W-Wait," you flailed your arms and kicked your legs but to no avail. Childe was an experienced combatant indeed, "Put me down! I have work to do."

Your protests fall upon deaf ears as the harbinger carries you to your room. You were oddly lighter than the last time he carried you, the strength less vigor than before, it was obvious that your body was in need of relaxation. He suddenly thinks there was a possibility that you would maintain this habit while he was absent.

I should probably visit more often.

Using his free leg to nudge the door open, he places you upon the shared bed in a gentle manner. You winced at the impact of the soft sheets, surprised by how much it affect you.

"There we go. All done. Man, you really are a stubborn one, aren't you. Makes me a little worried since I can't spoil you all the time."

He quickly invited himself to the empty space on your bedside and wrapped his arms around your figure, pulling you close and feeling you whole. Childe made sure there was no escape once putting his chin above your hairline so that you could feel his warmth as much as possible.

"This is--" you stuttered. His tactic was enough to make your limbs soften and you could almost hear him smirk into the distance, "This is cheating..."

"You think so?" He comments as if pledging innocence, "I don't know babe. Where I come from those who take the initiative are the ones who end up claiming the prize," pulling back, Childe takes the opportunity to observe your pouty face, "I don't make the rules. It's just how it goes."

You wanted to argue back but he suddenly took the bedsheets and covered both of your bodies with, completely trapping you with his presence. He snuggles into you further as if you were a bear made of linen and you felt the drowsiness taking over your mind. The way he gently pats down the back of your head was enough to instantly lull you into a deep sleep.

"Cheater," you mumbled.

He laughs softly, the rumbles emitting through his chest, "I love you too babe."

Even after you've let go of your resistance, Childe continues his actions until he was sure that you were resting. He had been longing to touch you like this since living a chaotic life only made peaceful moments much sweeter, "You're such a hard-worker you know that? I'm proud of you but you have to know when to call it a day," he whispers, "If not, how can I go on trips while knowing that you're still refusing to eat properly?"

You closed your eyes and said nothing in return. All your senses were too cloudy to come up with a reassuring response. Childe listens to the way your breath evens as you intake his scent during the process. It smelled like the soap you used in the showers, lotus leaves mixed with his own unique musk. You could only focus on him. His comforting embrace. His slightly accelerating heartbeat because you were together with him.

Letting out one final yawn, you succumbed to his spell and allowed your energy to drift away.

The corners of his lips tug upwards, "Sleep well princess."

Childe reaches over to your desk drawer and shuts off the alarm clock before turning over to face you again. He couldn't fall asleep immediately, not when he had to consider taking care of the commissioner who gave you an impossible deadline. But that will be saved for another day, for now, he observes in silent serenity.

If he were to quit his job for a year, what would his life be like?

Peaceful. Something opposite of what he was living right now. Something similar to the life he had back home. As you arrange the many paintings in your little home, he'll offer to help you among the places you couldn't reach. Without a doubt, Childe was far taller in comparison. Taking strolls into the streets and trying the new dishes the merchants came up with. Then in the evenings, you'll both go to dinner dates while listening to the storyteller revealing the rumours of the legendary Tianquan Qixing. Although Childe loved the adventurous life he led, he had to admit that your domesticity and family-bringing atmosphere was a tempting idea.

Maybe one day.

He lightly takes a strand that had fallen over your nose and tucked it smoothly behind your ear. The soft snores coming out of your parted lips caused his gaze to melt. And so he steals them with his own, placing a chaste goodnight kiss.

One day I'll be sure to bring my family here with us.

Closing his eyes, he joins you in your slumber, hoping to see all that he envisioned in his dreams.

[maxwell-grant]

Having asked your thoughts on designing Frankenstein's daemon, might I now ask your thoughts on bringing Count Dracula from the written word into illustration? (I'm definitely in favour of the 'Hairy Old Mountain Man of Horror pretending he's people' look from the original novel; one of the small tests too many Draculas fail to pass is an absolutely tragic lack of the Evil Beard and/or Wicked Moustache explicitly described by Mr Stoker).

Unlike with Frankenstein, where I think the design needs to be painstakingly thought out in order to achieve the best balance of the creature's traits for horror and tragedy alike, I think with Dracula you can actually just take an approach of "whatever works". Because as I mentioned before, I think much of the appeal and longevity of Dracula is how the character's both a layered villain as well as a shapeshifting narrative force that can be tailored to whatever you want to do with. Granted, there are bad or dissappointing Dracula designs, of course there are, but in regards to the leeway you get for reinterpretation, you get a lot more of it with Dracula than with other literary icons.

Like with Frankenstein, I'm gonna bring up how I'd tackle a less grim, more comedy-centric Dracula first, one that's less a force of horror and more of a charismatic villain, and I think to that end I definitely agree that people are sleeping a lot on the hairy old man barely-passing-off-as-humanoid of the original story. Despite very much loving these performers, I'm actually not a fan of takes that mold Dracula too closely to people who've portrayed him, like Bela Lugosi and Christopher Lee, partially because I think it's a waste of an opportunity to create your own Dracula design. Since I can't draw (yet), I'll do what I usually do and make a board of images to try and convey some of my thoughts on one way I'd design Dracula.

(Pictured: Kiwi's design for Dracula, Hotel Transylvania concept art, Nandor, Castlevania Dracula, Charles Dance in Dracula Untold, Vladislav, a Transylvanian rug)

I used the images in my other Dracula post and I’ll post it here again because I absolutely adore @kiwibyrd's designs for Dracula and it's main heroes, in particular I love the way it strikes a good balance at making sure Dracula looks distinctly separate from the humans, but not too much that he couldn't conceivably operate in society as just a harmless old man. I also adore the mustache and bushy eyebrows and pointy ears and I think these three are wonderful features to keep on any Dracula design. I'm also very partial to the Hotel Transylvania concept art, even if it makes me incredibly depressed to look at all the great designs they had for Dracula that they threw in the trash because they somehow decided making him look like Adam Sandler was the idea to go with.

I deeply adore What We Do In The Shadows, both the movie and the show, and Jemaine Clement's Vladislav is one of my favorite (maybe even my actual favorite) on-screen Draculas. But I also enjoy Nandor just as much, and I think it's really great that as a character he's completely different from Vlad while also being ostensibly a take on Dracula, and in particular I bring up his Jersey look because "Dracula in common clothing" is a criminally underrated concept for a joke.

As a character, I'm very partial to comedy takes on Dracula that play him up as a decadent aristocratic supervillain, the kind that can get away with talking in third person. I also have this idea for a version of Dracula who dresses ostentatiously in finely-broidered Romanian or Transylvanian patterns, maybe even wearing a rug as a cape, claiming that he's carrying the legacy of his people on his back. And of course he's lying, he's not Vlad Tepes and he's not even Romanian, he is just a parasite pretending to have a history to be proud of, but good luck getting him to admit that. And finally, I'd like this version to be played by Charles Dance, and I consider it a tremendous crime against humanity that he has yet to play Dracula proper even despite being in a film with the character's name on the title.

So that's kinda how I would design a take on Dracula for something more comedic or more based around him as this guest character and personality on-set. Now, if we're talking a more serious version, I think the possibilities increase, and I won't be getting into all of them because I may prefer to keep them to myself, but I'll elaborate a few ideas.

For example, the edition of Dracula I personally own comes with these really scratchy, really creepy B&W illustrations related to the story, that I can't find scanned online so I'm uploading them here so you can look at. They don't necessarily depict the scenes but rather some of the story's moments, like Van Helsing staking Lucy, Renfield in a straightjacket, Dracula as a coachman, and they are more focused on conveying the horror of the concepts at play.

Dracula never looks the same way in any of the illustrations, in fact you kinda have to piece him out of them by trying to find teeth or capes or eyes or bat-features to see where he's hiding this time. In the first, it's the half-man half-bat, in the 2nd, he's the shrieking bat silhouette next to Renfield, and in the latter, he's the gaping jaws and eerily humanoid eyes in the wolf. The effect to me almost feels like if you were to look at a bunch of tv static and then see a humanoid shape form for a split second before everything went back to normal, something like you'd get from Slender Man or other modern creepypastas, and I’ve argued before that Dracula’s form of horror is a very modern one. 

In terms of illustrations of Dracula that keep up the original traits while still pulling off horror, I definitely have to hand it to the one at the left of the image above, drawn by regourso on Deviantart (account deleted at present). Going back to Castlevania’s many takes on Dracula, two in particular that stick out to me would be Castlevania: Judgment’s armored dress Dracula, who’s got this great twisted heart/rose motif going on in his outfit, and Dracula’s final form in SOTN where he just sits in his throne and his cape twists into all these monsters, particularly how it’s depicted by witnesstheabsurd’s depiction. 

I’m not particularly a fan of how Dracula’s “final form” in these games is usually just some big demon, and part of what I like about his final form in SOTN instead is that, while it’s not a particularly challenging final boss, I do find it interesting the idea of us never actually getting to see what Dracula’s true final form looks like, only an ever-shifting pitch-black torrent of teeth and claws and bloody veins pouring out because that’s ultimately what Dracula is and brings to the world.

On the flip-side of the rotten old monster, we have the charming seductor Dracula, and while I’m really not a fan of how various adaptations have convinced people that “the point” of Dracula is that he’s a seductive force and an allegory for Victorian xenophobia and I’m reeeally even less of a fan of adaptations that make Dracula some misunderstood tragic hero (and I think I’ve made rather violently clear my feelings on interpretations that play up a romance between him and Mina), that the seductive force part exists is impossible to deny, so conversely, while on one hand we can have Dracula as the gargantuan whirlwind of predatory violence, we can also go for Dracula as the tantalizing lover.

I’ve seen a lot of opinions proclaiming Frank Langella as the best Dracula because he was the best at actually being seductive while still playing Dracula, although I haven’t yet seen his performances. If I had to point at one picture I look at and do buy for a second the idea of Dracula as a romantic character, it would be that particular still of Raul Julia in the left of the above image. And it’s strange for me to think of Raul Julia as attractive because I mainly associate him with his brilliant comedy performance of M.Bison (I know it’s far from the highlight of his career but, look, I grew up with Street Fighter, I can’t help it) but those eyes are definitely looking pretty convincing to me, if nothing else. 

And I’ve included this still of Sebastian Stan in the right because, during a conversation between me, @krinsbez and @jcogginsa about who could be a good fit for Dracula, jcog suggested Sebastian Stan, partially because he’s Romanian, and I’ve learned recently that Stan was actually interested in playing the character in Blumhouse’s upcoming remake. And you’d think I’d hate this idea  considering how much I don’t care for tragic anti-hero Draculas, but who says that’s what he’d have to play? 

Do you have any idea how much actors, who are traditionally known for heroic or supporting roles, usually LOVE it when you give them a chance to cut loose as the main villain?

I’d want Sebastian Stan to put all of his charm, all of his talent, all of his good looks and etc, into playing the absolute most vicious, bloodthirsty and irredeemable Dracula put on screen. Someone who is exceedingly, eerily good at being a lovable protagonist, who’s all smiles and charming eyes and politeness mannerisms and maybe even a funny accent, and then it isn't as funny when he's flying through your window intent on kidnapping babies to feed to his brides, except he may take a moment or two to do so because he's feeling pretty hungry himself right now.

Now, admittedly this is kind of a lot to juggle in regards to a single character, which is why my answer for questions like these inevitably has to be “depends on what I’m going for”. That being said, if I was going to try and cast someone who I think could both look the part of Dracula, as well as respectively, play “cartoon aristocrat” Dracula, “mercurial embodiment of evil” Dracula, as well as realistically be an attractive, even seductive performer who can charm viewers even as the character descends into horrible villainy, and juggle these performances even?

I think I’d have to go with Mads Mikkelsen. Not specifically because of Hannibal (I actually haven’t watched it yet), although it’s definitely a factor, the thing that actually made me pick him specifically is, other than his looks, his voice, his reputation for playing sinister characters, the fact that he loves the role and wants to play it, or how many people are deeply in love with this man, or that people already joke that he looks like a vampire, was watching him in Another Round, and specifically that glorious final scene where he’s just dancing to his heart’s content and just, moving with such spring in his step and such joyful vitality even though he’s past his mid-fifties, and that was the moment where, in regards to how much you all love this man, I went

And now I am going to add “casting Mads Mikkelsen as a dancing Dracula” to The List of Reasons Why I Became a Filmmaker.

[retroyousei]

Female characters in retro shojo [70s edition, part 2]

In this series, the female characters in 70s shojo are being analysed. In part one, three of the most common types were examined; the “average” protagonists, the villains and the tomboys. In this article, other three very common types are being discussed.

The westerners innocent blondies

They are either orphans who just want to find a place to belong, princesses who dream about falling in love, or normal girls who always knew that they weren’t where they meant to be and they somehow discover that they are royalty or from a noble family. Either way, they are lively, innocent, but naive, so sometimes they may be betrayed or belittled, but they have a kind heart that knows how to forgive and have faith on people, so they make friends easily. Many times they are portrayed as Tomboys who love the nature and sometimes they get into trouble accidentally. They may seem helpless and dense sometimes, but despite all of this, they are actually very independent, as they may travel to the other side of the world all alone if they have to (they will make new friends wherever they go anyway) and if they need to, they can kick some serious ass too. But their most precious weapon is their inner strength to move forward, no matter what.

In “Candy Candy” Candy, is an orphan girl who goes through so many hardships. At first, her best friend Annie gets adopted, leaving her behind, but her troubles had just begun. She gets adopted by a rich family to keep company to their daughter, named Elisa who is the one who, along with her brother will constantly try to make her life miserable, firstly when she was staying at their house, then in the private school in England and afterwards when she was working as a nurse. But Candy makes many friends and has many allies and with her inner strength and lust for life, she overcomes all the obstacles that she faces. But that doesn’t mean that she doesn’t lose some of her dearest friends along the way. As she grows up she learns the hardships of life, but all those obstacles makes her only stronger and she never loses her hope for a better tomorrow.

In “the Rose of Versailles” we see Marie Antoinette evolving from an innocent and silly girl, to an irresponsible young woman, to a sorrowful, regretful, but determined queen. In the first volumes, she was still a child who just wanted to have fun and didn’t care about homework, traditions and preparations for being a queen. Later, during her first years as a queen she was portrayed as a naive person who didn’t make the right choices. Also, her friendship with Countess de polignag was a bad influence for her as she goaded her into gambling. But she was also well intensioned and just wanted her loved ones to be happy. Oscar always tried to be her voice of reason, but it wasn’t enough. Later it was more and more clear that she was spending her country’s money in clothes, gardening and building the petit Trianon to be with her inner circle, because she wanted to fill the void of being a woman who cannot be with her beloved. In the end, during the time that she was captured, before her decapitation, she surprisingly matured, realised what she had done all those years and wanted to make things right, but it was too late. Her final thoughts was about her family, Fersen and Oscar and she was proud and composured until her last breath. Throughout the story she was portrayed as an innocent woman who was sacrificed for the sake of politics.

In “Alpen Rose” Jeudi is an amnesiac girl who lives in Alpes with a boy named Lundi. She works as a nurse and has a quiet life, until a French nobleman captures her. Luckily she is very clever and with Lundi’s help they get away. And that’s how their journey towards finding Jeudi’s parents start. Along the way, Jeudi befriends many people, like a little girl with his brother and his girlfriend, a journalist who helps her a lot, a young couple and a mysterious musician named Leonard Aschenbach. Jeudi is different from other characters in this particular category because of her wit and courage. She also has a strong sense of justice and in matters of life and death, such as hiding from the nazis in the trains, planning traps for them and solving mysteries with the information that she gathers with the help of her friends, she succeeds. She also cares about the others and tries to see the good side in everyone. When she finally found her mother, she was asked from her grandparents to pretend that she wasn’t her daughter, because she was blind and in a fragile state, besides there was another girl who resembled Alicia (Jeudi’s real name) a lot. She had patience and it was repaid in the end.

Rosalie from “Rose of Versailles” was a poor girl who lived with her mother and her sister Joanne and she just wanted for others to be healthy and was happy with the simplest of things, like being able to buy bread and helping other children in the neighborhood who can’t afford to eat anything. When her mother is killed by Polignag who was in fact her birth mother, she is devastated and swears that she is going to get revenge from the nobles who don’t care about anyone else. When she befriends Oscar and Andre and stays at Jerjeyes household, she learns fencing, manners, horseriding and and history, to make her debut in Versailles. There, she meets the woman who killed her mother, her sister who suicides because of Polignag and managed to get away from her. She also felt disappointed with her other sister, Jeanne who betrayed her, but she was sad when she was killed. Later she meets and falls in love with Bernard, a friend of Oscar and they get married. As the years passed by, she evolved from a stereotypical nice girl, into an accomplished woman who can protect herself and the others. By the end of the story she was pretty much the only one from the main characters who stayed alive.

There are many other characters who fit this image, such as Georgie from “Lady Georgie”, who lived in Australia with a family that wasn’t hers and after meeting an English noble young man, Lowel, they fall in love, so she decides to follow him in England where she makes new friends, faces many enemies and also finds out about her real family. Lynn from “Lady Lady” travels to England to live with her father and her step sister and there she faces her evil step mother and her children, but she also finds many allies too.

Note: “Anne of green gables” was and still is popular in Japan, because of Anne’s passion for freedom and expression, the book’s “pastel” aesthetic, so Anne’s imagination and strength despite being an orphan, might have inspired those characters.

The worthy rivals

Those ladies tend to have what the main heroine lacks and they serve as her opposite. They tend to be considered prettier than the main characters and that circumstances are easier for them, something that isn’t true. They also appear to be elegant and refined, on oppose to the heroine who is more clumsy and tomboyish. They are usually more practical, down to earth and skilful than the main heroine, causing her to feel inferior to them. They may start off as the snobbish girls who look down on her and don’t take her seriously, due to her clumsiness and her easy going attitude towards work, but as the time goes by, they realise her real talent and her worth, causing them to consider her as a worthy opponent and expect great things from her. They may appear as almost perfect at everything they do, but the truth is that they are also insecure and they are having other types of problems, such as finding it very difficult to make friends, due to their cold nature, as they always appear antagonistic and determined to win. But as time goes by they may change their attitude with the help of the heroine, or better, with their own realisation.

Ayumi from “Glass Mask” is the greatest example of this. She is the daughter of a famous actress and a famous director and she was always on spotlight ever since she was a kid. She is beautiful, refined, elegant and admired by everyone, also considered to be a genius, as she excels at acting techniques, dancing and reciting. Her family environment helped her to pursue a successful career as an actress. But that doesn’t mean that she is rest assured as she always seeks to exceed her parents’ talent, so that people will see her as her and not as a daughter of famous parents. She also stated that no one truly knows how hard she worked in order to reach her current level. And that hard work was something that she succeeded on her own. When she encountered Maya for the first time and faced her on the stage, even though she (Ayumi) was better than her, she felt as though she was defeated. From that moment, even though it seemed like Ayumi had everything and Maya had nothing, Ayumi always thought that Maya had something that she lacked; a deep understanding of the characters that she portrays. Ayumi may excel at the techniques of acting, but she never manages to portray the true depth of emotion of each character. Her portraits of characters are accurate and true to the play, but Maya’s are refreshing and original. Even when it’s clear that she is way ahead of Maya, she always walks off stage with the feeling that she was defeated. As a rival, she is also very fair and she likes to unlimitedly challenge Maya in many ways. Of course, as the story progresses, Ayumi’s talent evolves and she becomes more open as a person.

In “Candy Candy”, Flanny is a girl who works as a nurse in the same hospital with Candy. She is the best of the nurses there, as she’s always on time, always knows what to do, is very practical and smart, yet she is rather cold and distant towards others. She only cares to get things done, that’s why she is often annoyed by Candy’s bubbly nature. What’s more, as soon as she learns that Candy is an Ardley, she assumes that she only works out of boredom, contrary to her, who she has to support her poor family. She even goes at the front, to work as a nurse and support the soldiers there. Candy respects her for that this and she visits Flanny’s family to inform them about her decision, as her own relationship with them is bad, as she only sends them her monthly allowance and they never seem to appreciate her hard work. Her and Candy make an interesting dynamic and many stated that both of them make the perfect nurse, with Candy’s gentle and caring personality and Flanny’s practical skills. At the end, both of them learned from one another.

In “Swan”, Sayoko is a refined woman who loved ballet ever since she was a child. But when she meets Masumi for the first time, she starts being insecure about herself and afraid that she will overshadow her, as she’s younger than her with a bright future, whereas she had a night of glory as a prima ballerina, but after an accident she needs to learn how to dance again. But she still feels sympathy for her, besides they both shared their love for ballet, thus a rivalry begins.

In “Aim For The Ace” Reika is the best player on the tennis team and so her nickname is “Madame Butterfly”, due to her grace in the field. Hiromi is fascinated by her and even though at first Reika isn’t impressed by her, later she appreciates her skills and thus a friendship begins.

The “damsel in distress” love antagonists

They are fragile, sweet and pretty, that’s for sure. They are either the daughters of an important family which aspires to marry them with the love interest, thus expand their power, or they are someone who because of some circumstances, grew closer to the love interest, before the main character even could or when she was separated from him for various reasons. Nevertheless, they are in a better social situation from the heroine. Their character arc usually begins at some crucial point of the plot, which is halfway through the story, when the main character and the love interest’s relationship have had already developed, but had not quite bloomed yet. They are considered to be innocent and kind, contradictory to the main character who is much more spontaneous, causing trouble to other sometimes. As expected, they slowly fall in love with the main love interest, in some cases before the main character even realises that she loves him. Either way, those characters add an extra dose of melodrama and constitute to the story, sometimes a little bit, some others a lot to a point of changing it.

Shiori from “Glass Mask” is an interesting case. She is a lady from a wealthy family, so she’s elegant and accomplished. She’s also very pretty, but fragile, as she suffers from anemia and many times she passes out. At first, she’s sympathetic, as she goes out with Masumi and starts falling for him, even though Masumi loves Maya. But as the story progresses, looking at the way Masumi talks to her (Maya), she starts to suspect that he likes her. Slowly but steadily, she evolves into a manipulative woman, who uses her weak health to keep him close. She sees Maya as a threat and she goes out of her way to make her seem like a bad person in front of Masumi. When he learns about all of this, he breaks up with her, but afterwards, Shiori attempts suicide and passes out. When she recovers, she loses almost all of her sense and she goes mad. She’s hospitalised in her room, where she barely speaks and sometimes she growls Maya’s name, rips apart her pictures in magazines and orders bouquets of purple roses to rip them too. At this point of the story, her parents don’t allow him to break their engagement, until their daughter recovers, leaving him responsible for her. In conclusion, Shiori evolves from a sympathetic woman, to a pathetic creature who’s adrift to its feelings.

Susanna from “Candy Candy” is a young talented actress, with a good heart, who works at the same theater company with Terry. During the time of their troupe’s performances in Chicago, she starts falling for him. Seeing that Terry’s heart is set on elsewhere she tries to keep him distant from Candy. Later on, in New York, during a rehearsal, the spotlight that was above of Terry, was ready to fall, so Susanna ran and pushed him away to save him, but the spotlight fell down before she could walk away from it. In the hospital, the troupe learns that she’s alive and healthy, but unfortunately the doctors were unable to save her legs and were forced to amputate them, meaning that her career as an actress was over. Terry took the responsibility, having a strong sense of duty and being pressured by Susanna’s mother. When Candy arrived to New York and see his play, she learned about it soon. Before she even fathom the news, she ran to catch up to Susanna, to save her from a balcony, before she could jump, trying to suicide, to free Terry and let him be with the one he loved. Candy manages to save her and decides to leave them be. So Terry chose to stay with Susanna to take care of her.

Lalissa from “Haikara-San Ga Toru” is a character that appears in the second half of the story. She’s a Russian noble, who arrived to Tokyo with her husband, who is in fact not her real one, but he’s Shinobu who suffers from amnesia after the war and believes that he’s married to her. Lalissa is elegant and quiet, but sad and the truth is that she had lost her real husband, that’s why she wants Shinobu near her, due to his resemblance to him. Benio, who’s Shinobu’s sweetheart, believing that he was dead, was shocked when she saw them together. But due to the circumstances and the fact that Lalissa suffers from tuberculosis, Benio decides to give up on him. But when the Kanto earthquake stroke, Lalissa was severely injured and ready to die, whereas Shinobu regained his memory and she told him to marry Benio and be happy.

Another mention, is Marie from “Alpen Rose” who liked Lundi and that was the reason that she miraculously stood up from her wheelchair to help him, although it’s clear that he likes Jeudi.

[panda-writes-kpop]

Vampire! JiU - (You’re Not) One of Us (Requested!)

A/N: Hi guys, girls, and non-binary pearls! I hope you all are doing well. This is one of my favorite works, and I hope you enjoy it as much as I do.

Word Count: 1,512

TW: Food, Violence (JiU smacks a guy with a chair), threats

You close your eyes and let the music guide your movements.

I guess this isn’t the worst way to spend my birthday.

You sigh as the made-up birthday party in your head disappears, and you realize that you’re still alone in your small city apartment.

Yeah, this is the worst way to spend my birthday. I know that I moved to the city a few months ago, but why didn’t I think to make any friends? I left everything behind just to chase my dream career, and where has it left me? Alone and listening to my favorite music while dreaming of a different life. Why is my life so sad?

You let out an exhausted breath while pulling the earbuds out of your ears.

Well, I guess that there’s no time like the present to make new friends.

You quickly gather your things and head for your door.

I hope that I’ll find a new future somewhere out here.

~

A coffee shop that’s open at 11 p.m.? That sounds kinda weird, but I might as well try it.

After realizing that every other place was closed at this hour, and you didn’t really feel like clubbing, you ended up standing in front of a coffee shop. Instead of the welcoming, homely vibes that most coffee shops had, this coffee shop looked like it was built during the Victorian Era with lots of extravagant decorations on the outside of the building. There weren’t any windows, but there was a sign that read: Coffee Shop, Open 24 hours a day, 7 days a week.

I guess it’s better than nothing.

You approach the door and let your hand fall onto the handle. A sense of dread fills your stomach, but you quickly waved it away.

What’s the worst that could happen?

A soft breeze tickles your neck, and you take that as a sign to walk inside.

Here goes nothing…

~

As expected, the eerie outside of the building matches the inside perfectly. The wallpaper is a deep purple with a few candle holders scattered across the four walls. All of the furniture is completely black, with a few tables that are covered in a layer of dust.

Did I just walk into an abandoned building?

The smell of sweet baked goods dismisses the thought in your mind, and you quickly approach the see-through counter. There’s an assortment of coffee machines, but none of them quite look alike.

That’s weird. I could swear that some of them look like they belong in a history museum.

You see a small metal bell to your left that looks like it’s seen better days, and you decided to give it a ring.

Might as well. I’m starving, and the smell of that food isn’t helping.

“Oh, I’ll be right with you!” A sweet voice rings out from behind a black door that you didn’t see before.

“It’s okay, please take your time.” You call out to the voice, and she giggles in response.

“You’re quite the friendly customer, aren’t you? Most people like us aren’t that patient.”

Like us? What does she mean by that?

The woman then begins humming, and you can hear her voice get closer. The door slowly opens to reveal a woman about your age holding a plate of sweets in one hand, and a pitcher of coffee in the other.

“Sorry to keep you waiting, I-” The woman gasps as her eyes meet yours.

“You’re not one of us…”

~

“So you’re not one of those vampire hunters?” The woman inquires while clearing off a table for you to sit at.

“Those exist?!?” You look at her in befuddlement while she laughs once again.

That laugh has got to be the sweetest thing I’ve ever heard.

“Of course they do. We’ve all been doing a great job at keeping ourselves hidden over the centuries.” She smiles brightly at you as your face flushes red.

She’s beautiful…

“Oh, where are my manners!” She scolds herself. “I’m JiU, and you would be?”

Wow, I cannot believe that I walked into a pretty vampire’s coffee shop. What are the odds? ...Why is she staring at me? Did she say something?

“Y/N, my name’s Y/N.” You quickly introduce yourself, hoping that was what she wanted to hear.

“A great name for a gorgeous person.” JiU winks before gesturing you to sit down. “The food’s on the house.”

She’s pretty AND kind?!? I’ve hit the jackpot!

~

You couldn’t let yourself only make one trip to JiU’s shop, so it became a weekly occurrence for you to stop in and see her. The food was great, but seeing and talking to JiU was the best part. She’d always have a bright smile on her face when you’d stop by. After a few months, you felt the attraction to JiU grow stronger and stronger, so you just had to say something. You wanted to prepare some big plan, but you decided that it would be best to just walk in and tell her how you feel.

~

The late night breeze accompanies you as you walk to JiU’s shop. You basically have the route memorized in your mind at this point.

Two lefts, one right, and walk down a block until I see the gargoyles outside of her shop.

You watch the night sky twinkle with a beautiful display of stars. It occurs to you to take a picture before they fade away.

I’m sure that JiU would love this.

As you approach her shop’s door, you notice a figure dressed in all black enter before you.

Huh, that’s weird. JiU said that she doesn’t usually have customers at this hour. I wonder what’s up with this person?

You shrug off the nervous feeling in your stomach as you walk in the door.

I’m sure it’s nothing.

You let the door slam shut behind you, and the figure has once again become visible. Their whole body snaps around, and you can see a red tint in their eyes.

Something tells me that this is a vampire.

You don’t move a muscle as the figure approaches you. You can’t make out any distinguishing features beneath their all-black attire. All you can see is their glaring red eyes.

“Aren’t you just a fragile thing? I thought humans knew not to come around these parts at night.” The figure’s voice has a creepy yet charming sound to it. “Oh well, I guess I could use a midnight snack.”

The figure is nearly within a foot of you before you hear footsteps approaching.

“Hey, read the sign!” JiU shouts while running over to you.

“What sign?” The figure looks confusedly at JiU before looking back at you.

“That one.” JiU points at a blank space on the wall, and the person lets their eyes wander over there.

“I don’t see any-” Their voice is cut off by the slamming of a chair against something.

Oh my god.

With the person on the floor, and JiU holding onto half of a chair leg, it doesn’t take you long to figure out what happened.

Are vampires seriously that strong?

JiU drops the chair leg and runs over to you. Once she reaches you, she cups your face with her hands while looking you over. You can’t help but blush at the close proximity of your faces.

“Are you alright? They didn’t hurt you, right?” You nod, which causes JiU to sigh in relief.

“Thank goodness. I don’t know what I would’ve done if you weren’t okay.” She quietly mutters the last part while taking her hands off of your face.

“Who was that?” You ask curiously. You take the opportunity to slip your hands in JiU’s, and she seems to lighten up when your hands are in hers.

“I’m not sure, but if that vampire is like most of us, then you’re not safe.” JiU looks you in the eyes, and you know that she’s dead serious.

“Not safe? Why am I not safe?”

“Vampires stay in groups, and since we fought one, the whole group will end up coming after us. It won’t take them long to find a human like you.” JiU explains while squeezing your hands.

“Then what am I supposed to do?” You look at her nervously, hoping to get some sort of answer.

“Come and stay with me. I live with a welcoming group of vampires, and I’m sure that they’ll love you as much as I do.” You nod along with every one of JiU’s words.

She’s offering for me to stay with her, and she’s expecting me to say no. I don’t know what to do, but if it’s for my safety, then I should stay with her.

“Okay.” You let your eyes meet hers. “I’ll go with you.”

JiU smiles as she leads you towards the back of the shop. “And one last thing, Y/N, before we go.”

“What is it?” You look at her curiously.

“I’ll always consider you to be one of us, no matter what happens.”

[watchmegetobsessed]

Never Have I Ever - Harry Styles (part 2)

i quite liked this story and thought it totally had potential for more, so i’ve cooked up a part 2, continuing the idea. i have no clear plan with this, just enjoyed taking the story further, but i might turn it into a proper series if you guys are enjoying the concept!

pairing:  Harry x actress!reader

word count: ~3.2k

SERIES MASTERPOST

masterlist

The car comes to a halt and you look up from your phone after being so occupied with texts you’ve been ignoring all afternoon.

“We’ve arrived, Miss,” The driver, Lawrence informs you in his usual, polite manner, looking at you through the mirror.

“Oh, thank you so much,” you breathe out grabbing your purse from the seat next to you. “I don’t think I’ll take too long, I’m not really in the mood to party,” you let him know, quickly running your hand through your hair before getting out, already knowing paparazzi is waiting for all guests at the entrance probably.

“Had a long day?” he asks with a soft smile.

“Kind of,” you sigh nodding. “I’ll text you when I’ll feel like heading home soon, alright?”

“Perfect. Have a great night, Miss,” Lawrence nods.

“Thank you,” you nod at him before opening the door and getting out of the car. Strategically, Lawrence stopped just a few buildings away from the club, so you wouldn’t be attacked right away, emerging from the car. This gives you enough time to fix your dress and avoid your private parts to end up on the tabloids. Not something you want to include in your career, if you’re being honest.

Shutting the door closed you head towards the club that has quite a long line of people waiting outside, though you have no idea why. If they are not on the list, there’s no way they’ll get inside, it’s a private party.

As you approach the entrance, people start to recognize you quite quickly and you hear your name coming from all direction, but you just flash a smile in their way, continuing to walk with the intention of getting inside as fast as possible.

Just as you expected, paparazzi are already waiting at the entrance and they start flashing their cameras in your way right away, throwing all kinds of questions at you that are left completely ignored.

The bouncer checks your name on the list and lets you inside without a fuss and you’re happy to leave the madness behind and mingle in the crowd of familiar faces.

Tonight is the celebration of the birthday of a good friend, a quite old friend of yours. Florence and you met quite some years ago, when both of you were only trying your luck in the industry, working hard to make yourselves a name. Now you are both are in the inner circle of Hollywood, piling iconic roles on your resumes together. So much has changed, people keep coming and going in your life, but the two of you managed to stay close and keep each other grounded when it was needed.

You keep saying hello to the people you know as you make your way through the guests, hugging a few guests, asking if they have seen Florence and they all point towards the bar. Unsurprisingly, you find the birthday girl right there, with a group of people circling around her as the bartender places a row of shots to the counter and her eyes light up at the sight of all the alcohol.

“Not even surprised you are already plastered,” you grin at her and she squeals upon seeing you join the little circle. Throwing her arms around you she jumps at you mumbling her greeting.

“I’m so happy you’re here!” she breathes out, clearly over a few drinks at this point. “I feel like we haven’t seen each other in ages!”

“It happens when we are both working on a movie at the same time, in different cities,” you chuckle giving her a look.

This past month has been rather busy, you were in Atlanta finishing up filming your latest movie while Florence was in Palm Springs, working on Don’t Worry Darling, she barely made it back to the city to her own birthday party, apparently they wrapped filming just two days ago so it was a close call.

“You have to take a shot with me!” she urges, already grabbing two shots from the bar and handing you one of them, not even waiting for your answer.

“Cheers to the birthday girl!” you hold your glass up after everyone else grabbed a shot, everyone around wishes her a happy birthday again before sending down the alcohol.

You can’t help the grimace that pulls on your face as the liquor burns down your throat. It’s been a while since the last time you had anything other than a few glasses of wine, it’ll take some time to get used to the stomach churning taste.

As the host of the party and the birthday girl, Florence’s presence is in high demand, so you don’t get to spend too much time with her, but you don’t blame her. Ordering a longer drink for you, sticking with some tequila based cocktail as you mingle in the crowd of guests.

Luckily, there are quite a lot familiar faces and you don’t have to linger around the club on your own. You move to a booth at the side with Sydney, a producer you and Florence both worked together previously. She is pretty new in the world of films, but she surely is a talent and you can’t wait for everyone to realize what a blessing she and her art is. You’re joined by her girlfriend, Emma and the three of you are deep in conversation, sharing the funniest stories that happened to you lately and surprisingly, you are genuinely having a good time. You really weren’t in the mood for a party after such a long and frustrating day, having scrunched in three auditions to one day because your manager messed the dates up. When you finished with the third ones, you wanted nothing else than to just sink into a nice bath, have a glass of wine and go to bed early, making your friends’ point of you being a grandma quite valid. However you didn’t have the heart to cancel on Florence, but now that you’ve had some alcohol buzzing in your system and some good company, you don’t regret coming at all.

Once you get to the end of your drink you head back to the bar to have another one, not feeling like leaving just yet. Pushing your way through the people, some keep saying hi to you and you greet everyone back with an instinct, even if you don’t know them. Something you’ve grown to do over your years being in the spotlight.

Standing in line, just like everyone else, you patiently wait to get to the front, when you feel someone bump against you from behind.

“Excuse me—Oh! If it isn’t my favorite Never Have I Ever game partner!”

Your eyes are met with a pair of green ones and a dimpled smile, you can’t help but chuckle as you turn to greet Harry.

“Hi there! Long time no see!” you smile as he pulls you into a side-hug and stands with you in the line.

“You know, maybe you would’ve seen me earlier if you actually gave me your number,” he comments with a sly smile and you have nothing to defend yourself with, he is completely right.

That day the two of you met on The Ellen Show you were actually planning to give him your number, but once your part of the filming ended your manager called you about something urgent and you couldn’t wait for him to finish as well, leaving the studio without ever giving him the chance to even ask for your number. You felt guilty and a little disappointed, but thought your paths would sooner or later cross somehow and it seems like you were right.

“I’m sorry about that. I had some papers to sign before the office closed, I had to leave,” you apologize truthfully and he nods understanding.

“S’alright. I was a little bummed, but I get it.”

“So what are you doing here?” you ask, moving forward in the line, getting closer to the front. Harry gives you a quick look that you can’t quite read before answering.

“I uhh—Florence and I filmed together last month.”

That’s when it clicks. She told you and you read about it, but you tend to forget these kind of things, not having enough capacity to keep everything in mind, only restricting it to the most important stuff.

“Oh, right! Yeah, sorry. Totally slipped my mind. Sorry, I sounded like I live under a rock,” you awkwardly chuckle, feeling a little ashamed that you didn’t remember, when Florence even mentioned it herself before she travelled to Palm Springs, but you were running on caffeine and protein bars between takes, it’s a luck you didn’t even forget your own name after those busy weeks.

“No, s’alright. Nice to know not everyone is drowning in the content that’s been put out of me lately,” he chuckles lowly. “You look lovely, by the way,” he nods at you, eyes running down your body quickly, before they return to your gaze.

“Oh, thank you,” you breathe out looking down at yourself, as if you forgot what you were wearing. It’s a little, black Gucci dress, quite vintage with some embroidered floral patterns along the slightly daring neckline. “It’s Gucci,” you tell him with a knowing smirk.

“Oh!”

“Know you are obsessed with it,” you add with a chuckle, seemingly surprising him with your knowledge about him.

“Someone did some research about me then?”

“I’ll admit, I might have searched your name one of those nights after I had a nice glass of wine.”

“And what else did you find out about me?” he arches an eyebrow at you, making your cheeks heating up. You shouldn’t have admitted that you searched him, he’ll think you’re some kind of stalker, which you are not, you just like to catch up on things sometimes. Though you are clearly a fan of his music and you know about his career vaguely, you haven’t been keeping an eye on him that closely lately, only because you didn’t have the time. However after meeting him at the taping, he was stuck on your mind for days before you gave in and checked out what he’s been up to lately and went through some in-depth articles about him from the past years, closing the line with his latest Vogue issue.

“Nothing shocking,” you simply answer and luckily, you are next up at the bar. You ask for another cocktail and Harry chimes in, adding a beer to the order.

“I hope you know I won’t let you leave until you give me your number this time,” he smirks at you cheekily, making you chuckle.

“I never said I would give it to you.” Wanting to play a little you shrug innocently, earning a stunned look.

“Making me work for it? Alright,” he nods, trying his best to hold his grin back.

The bartender comes back with the drinks and Harry is quick to whip his card out and pay for yours as well. You’re not surprised when he follows you back to the booth to Sydney and Emma. They both greet you with bright smiles upon arriving with Harry.

“This is Sydney and Emma. Syd and I worked together a while ago. Ladies, this is—“ You start the introduction, but Sydney cuts you off quickly.

“Harry Styles. You don’t have to introduce him to us,” she chuckles shaking hand with the fourth guest at the table. “I was a big One Direction fan,” she adds with a chuckle and that’s a new information. As a former fan girl, she is holding herself quite alright in the presence of her idol.

“Oh, nice!” Harry beams, genuinely looking delighted at the information.

“Her playlists have at least one One Direction song on them still this day,” Emma laughs shaking her head, while Syd just shrugs innocently.

The four of you are quick to engage in a conversation about music, mostly about what you listened to when you were teenagers and you are having some laughs at the odd taste you all used to have.

“I think my most played song was Crazy by Britney Spears. I was obsessed with that song,” you admit and Emma groans throwing her hands in the air.

“I loved that song! Even learned the choreography!” she shares, making everyone laugh around the table.

“I bet you did too,” Harry grins in your way over his half empty beer.

“Totally did not,” you scoff with a pretentious grimace that makes it clear that you in fact did.

“I would give an arm to see you dance to that song,” he sighs with an amused grin and you just chuckle, taking another sip from your drink.

At one point Florence joins the booth, buzzing from all the birthday shots she’s been constantly taking, but making sure you all are having a good time.

“I see you guys met again!” she beams looking at you and Harry sitting next to each other. “Y/N, wanna hear something funny?” she smirks at you with glistening eyes.

“Always,” you chuckle softly.

“Once on set, I caught Harry stalking your Instagram.” The man in talk almost chokes on his beer as Florence starts laughing, clearly enjoying how she just busted her co-star, but you are having a blast at how nervous her comment got him and you find the story quite flattering.

“Flo, I think you had enough to drink,” Harry tells her, urging her to leave the booth, but she is way too caught up in getting him into trouble.

“Are you ashamed she now knows you were checking out her sexy photos for that perfume campaign she did last year?” she continues, giving away even more details. Your eyebrows run up as you look at Harry, who is desperately trying to avoid your burning gaze.

“Oh, so you’re a fond of my pictures?” you tease him, his cheeks turning redder with each passing moment.

“I mean… You looked really good.”

“And quite half naked, only covering myself with a huge perfume bottle,” you add chuckling, enjoying it probably a little too much than you should, but Harry has been so confident, flirting with you, it’s funny to see him so flustered all of a sudden.

Harry lets out a nervous chuckle, scratching the back of his neck while Florence taps his shoulder, saying something that sounded like ‘good luck, man’ before she moves over to the next group of people.

“I wasn’t stalking, your profile just popped up and—“

“Harry,” you stop him with a chuckle. “It’s fine, I was just messing with you.”

“Way to make me a wreck, Y/N,” he shoots you a narrow-eyed look, but you can see the smirk pulling on his lips.

“If it makes you feel better I checked your profile a few times too,” you admit and once again, he seems surprised.

“It does make me feel better,” he nods, his sly smirk growing wider with each passing moment he spends staring at you.

Though you’ve been enjoying the night so far you are running low on energy, so when you see it’s already past midnight you send a text to Lawrence letting him know you are planning to leave soon.

Luckily, Florence is at one of the booths near yours, so you excuse yourself from your table, walking over to her to say your goodbye.

“Leaving already?” she pouts, returning your hug.

“I’ve had a long day, I wouldn’t want to be the grumpy guest to ruin others’ night,” you tell her with an apologetic smile and she nods understanding.

“I’m happy I saw you. We need to do something sometime soon!”

“Sure thing. I’ll have a looser schedule in the upcoming months. Call me whenever you are around and free,” you tell her kissing her cheek and giving her hand a soft squeeze. “Happy birthday once more.” “Thank you babe!” she cheers as you let go of each other.

Walking back to your booth you say goodbye to Sydney and Emma, making the same promise to meet up with them sometime soon. When you turn to Harry he is already up on his feet and offers to walk you out.

“Just to the exit. There are a shit ton of paparazzi outside,” you tell him and he nods, placing a hand to your lower back, ushering you through the crowd. The two of you stop near the exit since Lawrence hasn’t replied to you that he has arrived and you definitely don’t want to wait outside.

“So, are you gonna leave without giving me your number this time as well?” he asks tilting his head to the side as he hides his hands in his pockets lazily.

“Maybe I’m just trying to see if fate is gonna throw you in my way again,” you tease him, but reach for your phone in your purse. “Send yourself a text,” you tell him handing him the device.

He doesn’t try to hide the satisfied grin as he types his number in and sends a quick text to himself so he has your number. Handing it back you just take it and check if Lawrence has texted you. Right at that moment the screen lights up with a short ‘I’ve arrived, Miss’ text and you slide the phone back into your purse.

“Well, it’s been nice seeing you again, Harry,” you say your goodbye and stepping closer you engage in a short, but tight hug.

“You too, Y/N,” he smiles down at you. “Never have I ever had the number of an Emmy nominated actress’ number,” he smirks making you laugh.

“Drink up, Styles,” you tell him cheekily before you walk away, out of the club.

Lawrence is parked right in front of the building and you try to shield your vision from all the flashes as you get into the back seat as fast as possible.

“Hello, Lawrence!” you greet the man in a very delighted mood and he senses the change in you.

“Had a great evening, Miss?” he asks as he leaves from the club and heads to your apartment’s building.

“I did,” you nod biting into your bottom lip. Reaching into your purse you pull your phone out to check the text Harry sent himself.

You can’t help the chuckle that leaves your mouth when you see the short message he sent to his contact that he just saved under Harry S.

“I promise I won’t ghost you.” That’s what the text reads and as you are looking at the conversation you see the bubble popping up that signals that he is typing right now.

“So nice of you. Please keep that promise!” His text appears on the screen and you chuckle under your breath.

“Cheeky.” You write back.

“Maybe, but now I have evidence. Don’t even try to put me on your ghosted list!”

“Will think about it…” you write back with a sly smile before you lock the phone and put it away, letting your head rest against the back of the seat, eyes closing as you can’t wipe the smile off your face.

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