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sunsents · 3 years ago

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Content 2/2 - F.W (M)

Empty Chapter II

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

CROSS POSTED TO WATTPAD HERE

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

Pairing: fredweasley x fem!reader

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

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

Rating: 18+

DON’T REPOST MY WORK

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

Five Years Later, 2003

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

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

Aleyna quirks a brow, "Whose Stacey?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Fleur! What are you doing here?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Auntie ____!"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Ginny pauses, “Erm, yeah…”

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

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

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

“____?”

And then, you’re suffocating.

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

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

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

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

He’s still wearing the bracelet you gave him.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

His eyes grow wide. “Sorry Ma’am.”

Someone clears their throat.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Well, stand straight soldier!” you demand.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Damn, I’ll drink to that.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“So, any plans for Christmas Eve ____?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Sighing, you set your hand on your lap.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Aleyna, don’t.” you nudge her arm.

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

“Wha-“

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

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

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

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

“How’s Blaise doing by the way?”

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

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

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

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

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

Or maybe he did, only you didn’t see.

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

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

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

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

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

————————

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

Jambo’s no different.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Absolute blasphemy.

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

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

Of course your logic sucks.

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

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

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

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

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

Woah, you’ve had your coffee today.

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

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

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

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

“Morning, I know it’s early and-”

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

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

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

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

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

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

Woah, down girl.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Alright.” he says softly.

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

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

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

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

“Eva!”

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

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

Fred winces. “Actually-”

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

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

You freeze. “What?”

They broke up? “Why, oh Fred-”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Nonetheless, you smile. “Just that what?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

That turns the after taste into pure panic.

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

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

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

——————

You look good.

Or, at least you think you do.

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

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

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

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

“Sounds like a you problem.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Aleyna gives you both questioning looks.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“____!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Why!” says Ginny, banging another fist.

“I think you know why,” says Harry.

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

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

You’re enjoying yourself, the buzz, the warmth, the scent of fire. It’s comfortable and not at all like a party. It’s as if you’re visiting your friends for thanksgiving, homely and welcoming.

Though, the first crack forms when you see Fred, eyeing you from the small bar of their kitchen.

Dressed in navy slacks and a red, turtleneck sweater, he leans against the counter with a glass of Firewhiskey clutched on his big hand. He swirls it as his lips twitch, keeping his gaze set on you. His hair falls on his eyes, mostly pushed back but how strong hair gel can really be?

He looks good, way too good for a party. But it’s not the outfit, it's his entire presence. The way he holds himself, acts, speaks - shit, it’s attractive. He can do anything and he’ll always have that charismatic charm, it makes you feel envious, not to mention incredibly horny.

It’s Christmas, it’s a sacred holiday. You can’t let Fred sexy Weasley get to you, no matter how unapproachable and out of your league he looks.

You’re the bigger person - apparently - and you decide to greet him first.

You don’t know what compels you to do this, but it must be quite a strong force because you feel yourself start to quiver when you abandon your place on the couch. It’s so strong that your wobbly legs carry you while you push through tipsy friends and hold you up all the way to the kitchen area.

“Merry Christmas.” you croak, pulling him in a quick hug which he returns happily.

“Merry Christmas yourself.” he smiles, gaze drifting lower to your dress only for a second before he swallows.

His signature cologne that you’ve engraved deep in your head this past week bursts out again. You smile softly, relishing in him.

“You look,” he seems to be giving much more thought on whatever he’s about to say, he settles on; “Beautiful, you’re, uh - the dress.” he finishes lamely.

“Oh,” your face falls. The dress is beautiful, not you. Of course. “Thank you, I would say you don’t look too bad yourself but that would be a lie.”

Fred raises a brow, putting his wine glass on the bar with a clink before slowly turning on his heel. “Aw, cheers love.” he says casually, “Wore it for you,”

You raise both your brows, “Is that so?” you fight a grin.

“This little number is my lucky charm.” he smirks, pulling on his shirt. “Made women fall at my feet back in the day, maybe you will too.” he finishes, more bashfully than before. His cheeks are tinted pink and, now, for the first time, you feel clueless.

Your heart stutters when you speak, “Trying to butter me up Frederick?” you say shly, nudging the tip of his shoe with yours.

Fred winks. “And what if I am?” he suddenly straightens, arms folding together. His head bows as he continues with a smile, “I’m joking, got this a week ago for the party.”

You fight the urge to smile, “Ah, so not the chick magnet.”

“Well,” Fred laughs, “It’s still very wolfish.”

“Whatever you say, big ole pussy cat.” you pat him on the shoulder.

Fred scoffs good naturally, “Ah, you hurt my pride ____.”

When you don’t say anything, his gaze falls on you. He takes the time to look at you, really take you in and it makes your efforts feel appreciated for once. He takes a deep breath, head careening left for a moment.

“It’s not just the dress.” he rubs the back of his neck, eyes falling on your scar. “You really are beautiful.”

Your hand immediately flies to your brow, tracing a finger down the gash. It’s not as noticeable anymore and your hair grew back - thankfully - but the knowledge that it’s still there, parading itself to everyone makes you feel much more self conscious than you should.

Fred’s hand closes over yours and you freeze. “You might not think so, but not only is your scar a wicked bedtime story, it’s very attractive.”

Your ears feel hot, “You think I’m attractive?”

It’s a nice compliment - especially when it comes from a man like Fred.

“Do I think you’re,” he gasps, giving you an incredulous look. “Of course you’re - ! I mean you can’t be asking me that - are you, gah!”

A chuckle bubbles from your throat. It’s quite amusing watching Fred Weasley struggling to speak, clearly embarrassed. The knowledge that you made him this way, you were sleeping like a baby tonight that’s for sure.

“Look, ____. I actually wanted to tell you something really important.” he fidgets with his cuffs.

You furrow your brows, “Of course, what is it?”

“I used to, well I think I still do because it never truly went away but - okay, this is harder than I thought.”

You chuckle nervously. “Fred, you’re freaking me out here.”

You hear him mutter something along the likes of what’s wrong with me, until he speaks again.

“What I meant to say was, I wan-“

“Oh my god, ____, Fred!”

When you left your apartment a few days ago, your mind didn’t calculate the outcomes of meeting Fred Weasley.

The impact is so strong that it causes your past to - not flash, because this is painful - slowly start playing before your eyes, like a play you have to sit through because the seats were expensive, and the star of the show, the star of your own life is standing right in front of you.

She’s wearing a gorgeous, gold cocktail dress. The costume design is delicate, it’s the type of dress you flutter your fingers in (the fabric is ticklish and soft, you just had to touch it) before moving onto the next. The rack is full of other suitable options, because you know you can never wear a dress like that.

But Eva can. She was always gorgeous, you couldn’t compare.

Fred’s eyes are wide, the way he’s tugging on your dress makes worry wash over you. “Eva? Erm - who invited you?” His words sound more bitter than he intends them to, or at least you think so.

“Oh, is that how you treat guests around here?” she fucking giggles, playfully slapping his shoulder.

You can’t tell if she’s purposely ignoring you - you’re standing right there - or just forgot your existence after seeing Fred in those pants because sweet merciful heavens.

Fred shifts uncomfortably, “Right sorry well, Merry Christmas!” he’s back to normal, addressing her as he addresses anyone else you can’t help but smirk.

Of course, you immediately jump on this opportunity. Eva may have ruined most of your childhood, she may currently look gorgeous - mockingly so, but you’re not kids anymore. No matter how insignificant you feel, you still have your pride to protect.

“Merry Christmas,” you add, jumping forward. “How long has it been?”

Eva’s expression turns sour, though she conceals it quickly. “____! Oh I love your dress.”

She doesn’t wish you a merry christmas.

“Happy holidays Freddie! Where can a girl get a drink around here?” she squeaks? You’re not sure, her voice is too sweet and you don’t know how to act.

Fred grins, “Right there,” he points to a corner far away from the kitchen. “Lee’s in charge of drinks, I’m sure he can hook you up with something.”

Eva ponders, pausing for a beat. She’s expectantly staring at Fred, though when he shows no intention of accompanying her she gives you a menacing look and leaves.

You didn’t expect a big reunion because you saw Eva a few months ago at the hospital, you had sprained an ankle while training with Ron, and she tried to heal you before the Head Healer cut in and told her to take a walk.

Fred’s weight relaxes as soon as Eva’s out of view, it doesn’t take much to know something happened between the two - it wasn’t a harmless breakup like Fred had told you. You don’t push it though, if he wants to tell you he will.

“Well that was,” you say, and he hums in response, swirling his drink in one hand. You watch the gold hue with him for a moment. “Interesting.”

He snorts, “She drops by every Friday to give me green apples. I hate green apples.”

“How long did you guys date?” you can’t help the words that tumble out of your lips.

He stares at you for a moment, you swear his lip almost twitch in a smile before he clears his throat. “Three years, I thought I loved her for a year.”

“Well what changed your mind?”

Fred looks at you like you just asked the dumbest question a joke shop owner could hear. “You, daft idiot, you did.”

“Wha-” you stammer. “What the hell is that supposed to mean?”

Fred groans. “I need a drink.” and with that, he leaves towards where Eva previously walked on her precious Chanel heels. Leaves you alone.

It wasn’t like you called the man's family a disgrace and cursed his entire bloodline. Confused, you decide that maybe you need a drink as well to survive this night.

Everyone you had talked to so far ended with a disagreement, except George because he probably felt bad for you and your huge red gift sack. Embarrassment fills your cheeks as you walk towards the beverage table, you shouldn’t have come tonight.

The cherry on top gets dropped on the shit sundae when Eva Burke bumps into your shoulder and causes you to spill your drink.

“Oops! Babe I’m so sorry,” She pulls a red cloth from the glass table filled with different types of intoxications and rubs it on the fabric of your dress, further ruining it.

Embarrassment turns into frustration, this turns into pure anger. You see red.

You snatch the cloth from her hands and lightly push her forward, Eva dramatically - and very theatrically - falls on the ground with a yelp.

“Oh get up!” you hiss, throwing the cloth on the ground.

Eva scrambles to her feet, holding her right ankle with dainty, perfectly manicured hands. “Oh, now we’re turning to violence are we? Some things never change.”

You let out a frustrated grumble, stumping your heel on the ground. “I really don’t have time for this Eva.”

“We’re just talking babe, I don’t understand why you’re so upset over this.”

“I’m not upset, I’m tired.” you sigh.

Suddenly with her magically healed ankle she trudges forward. “Is it the dress?” she pouts, bending down to eye the splotch on your chest. “I can pay for it, say...two sickles?”

Your eyes narrow, “How about this, you show me how your career is going and I’ll decide if you can afford a wash.”

Eva barks out a laugh, “How about this, I’ll show you a family picture album.”

Gasping, you hold back the urge to slap her. You never expected Eva to stoop this low, and you know you shouldn’t be upset over it but it hurts. It hurts how easily she can use your family against you with no remorse.

Beyond pissed, insulted and done with tonight, you pull out your wand and get ready to apparate. This time it’s not to run away, nor do you feel like a coward. You feel tired, using your palms to press into your temple and relieve your throbbing headache.

Eva grips your wand and tries to pull you forward with failed force. “Let’s get this straight, Fred’s not interested in you.”

“And you think he’s interested in you?” you laugh, “You broke up remember?

Eva flings her long hair back, “And I’m gonna get him back. No one breaks up with me.”

“So, you're still a narcissistic bitch.” you smile.

“And you’re still pathetically clinging onto whatever I touch.” She takes a step forward, and it hits you then and there that you aren’t going home sooner or later. “Wanna know why we broke up?”

You hold your breath, her perfume is too sweet and you can’t process her words.

“He caught me cheating.” she smirks. “And he still begged me to stay, after all that.”

Your nostrils flare, and you’re about ready to punch her. You’ve never seen someone so prideful, so proud to have done something so obaminable. But it doesn’t surprise you, you pity her.

“Some loser from the bank.” she mockingly wipes a nonexistent tear with her jeweled wrist. “See, that’s the difference between me and you ____. “

You almost scream bloody murder. “Oh do enlighten me.” Your voice is weirdly high pitched but you don’t seem to care.

“He begged me, not you. He’ll never want you. You’ll always end up with the leftovers ____, accept that.” she hisses, taking another step forward.

You don’t know what you’ve done to the woman standing before you with nothing but red fire in her eyes, she looks ready to pull out your hair follicle by follicle, yet it makes you smirk. With a shit eating grin on your face, it hits you. “I knew it.” you laugh.

Eva stutters, “What?”

“Why you’re actually delusional to think he’s taking you back.”

“Oh but he will.” she protests, stomping her heel.

“No, he won’t.”

When you see Eva stay quiet, you continue. ”You grew up spoiled rotten, your parents love you, hell my parents love you, you always had the most friends and always got your way.”

She smirks, you’re tempted not to continue but years of pent up anger is ready to burst through your chest. “Yeah, jealous are we?” Eve mocks, and you quiver as you speak. Stating the obvious doesn’t hurt you anymore.

“No, because you grew up thinking everyone will love you, no matter how wrong you are, or what horrible things you do, you’ll always think that people won’t stop being by your side.” you shake your head, tutting. “But you’re wrong. I guess that’s what too much love does to you - you think a simple sorry will fix what you did? Because no, it won’t.”

“Oh stop it, Fred wants me back, it’s painfully obvious.” Eva speaks, but she doesn’t sound sure at all.

“I’ll make it clear for you.” you smile. “Fred won’t take you back for cheating, you won’t get a second chance in your career, and you sure as hell won’t be getting an apology from me.”

By now, you don’t care who's listening, because they are. Oh, they’re eating this kitty fight up like free dessert Monday at Fleur’s. Your childhood friends are watching you with intense, widened eyes. And somehow, in a cruel, wicked way, you feel satisfaction. The harsh words slipping out of your lips like nectar, in comparison to the way they slap Eva across the face fills you with nothing but disgusting satisfaction.

Sure, it’s immature and yes, you could’ve worded everything much better to be even more impactful, but the way her eyes are bloodshot and vengenceful, it’s enough for you.

Eva grits her teeth, and you know she doesn’t have much to say. “I don’t need an apology from you, ____.” she speaks, and her next words cause you to freeze, because no matter what wrong doing, she’s still right. ”You’re right, I might not be forgiven, but in the end I will always be better than you. People will always favour me more and you can never change that.”

You try to lunge forward, teeth gritter. With harsh impact, you topple backwards. Strong arms are wrapped around your chest, holding you back from gouging Eva’s eyes out with the toothpick from the martini glasses.

“Nice weather we’re having,” Fred says, a deep rumble coming from his chest and against your back. You fight the urge to shiver, though you’re way too angry to be thinking of how good he smells. “Why don’t we sober up sweetheart.” he asks you, whispering.

“No!” you shriek, struggling to move forward. “This isn’t over until I break her nose!”

Eva laughs, “Oh come at me, babe! Let’s see what a traumatized neglected child can do, yeah?” her eyes flash.

A deep, growling of distress leaves you. “Oh let me go! Let’s see what a filthy adulter can do!”

“I didn’t mean to cheat you know!”

You groan, “Heaven’s above let me go Fred.”

Eva takes two steps forward before Lee grasps her arms. “But these things happen for a reason!” her shrill voice causes you to wince.

“Yeah, you!” you cry.

Eva shrieks, lunging forward in an attempt to reach you again, and at that moment Fred seems to have about enough.

“Alright, that’s it.” His stern voice causes you to flinch, muscular arms still holding you close to his chest, he yanks you backwards and starts walking towards the corridor. “That’s enough with the both of you, Lee take Eva outside, get her some fresh air.”

——————

Fred has the decency to take you to his bedroom rather than toss you outside like he had done with Eva.

If the situation was any different, you’d be over the moon right now. Alone? With Fred Weasley? In his big bedded, fireplace occupying, additional bathroom having bedroom?

Said situation did not have you sitting on a leather rocking chair, big mug of coffee in hand while Fred lectures you like a parent. Actually, you wouldn’t know.

You’ve been quiet for the past fifteen minutes, too scared to say anything and anger him further. You knew how much this party meant to him, and you had ruined it with your childish, pent up jealousy. It wasn’t just you per say, but you had let Eva get to you.

“Can’t the two of you act your age for one fucking second,” he groans, hand propped against the brick fireplace. “I know how infuriating she is, but you-” inhaling sharply, he strides towards you. “Say something will you?”

“Why didn’t you tell me she cheated?”

Fred’s expression softens. “What?”

You gulp, you shouldn’t have brought it up when he was agitated, but you can’t listen to him while the words echo around your head. You feel awful, insensitive, anything else to call yourself that makes you feel better towards your lack of judgement. “She cheated, you didn’t tell me. Why?”

Fred pauses, after what feels like a seconds he bends down on his knees in front of you while you watch him, engrossed.

“Been waiting for you to bring it up.” he chuckles, his smile disappearing in an instant. His ginger locks hang in front of you and you realize that his shampoo, like the rest of him, smells amazing. You fight the intense urge to card your fingers through.

“Merlin, I just,” he meets your eyes. “I felt ashamed.”

Suddenly standing up, your hands flail. “Why?”

Fred stands up as well. His stance alarms you, arms wrapped around himself, brows furrowed and defensive. “Not ashamed because of you, because of myself.”

You take a step forward when Fred indicates that he’s going to continue. “I thought you were going to judge me. Bloody coward, can’t even break up with his cheating girlfriend.”

You scoff, “Fred, I’ve known you since I was eleven. Sure we had some tough times but do you really think that low of me?”

Now he scoffs, it’s nothing short of mockery. “Tough times my arse. You avoided us like the plague, ____.”

“I had my reasons,” you raise your voice, wincing slightly and it only fuels Fred’s anger.

“Proper liar you are, you didn’t even write, or even just explain why you suddenly walked out.”

You don’t feel ashamed for what you did, it was for your own good. Though, Fred’s right. You never gave a proper reason other than those childish insults at Hog’s Head. But now, with your head banging, you can’t think logically.

“Again.” you grit your teeth, words spilling between like venom. “I had my reasons.”

Fred quickly stalks towards you, enough so you can reach a hand, grab his jaw and smash your lips against his. But you don’t. “Excuse me for not giving a rat's arse about your reasons, do you know how worried I was!”

His words pull a small gasp from your lips, you refuse to believe him. “If you were so worried, you could’ve spoken to me all those years. How about that summer huh? I stayed over.”

“But I did speak to you!” Fred shouts, and your fists clench. “You were a bitch to me, remember?”

Your groan is filled with contempt. “You take that back!” your fist lifts to smack him on the chest, and you curse his overwhelmingly hard and attractive biceps. Shit, you really shouldn’t be feeling like this during a fight.

“You wanna know why I did all that?” you cry out, tears ready to strain your cheeks but you won’t forgive yourself if you cried in front of him.

“Oh do tell?” he seethes, grasping your fist in a quick motion and holding it beside him before you can smack his chest again. “Merlin woman keep your-”

“Because I was in love with you, you dickwad!”

Fred freezes - second time that night.

Your heartbeat pounds against your chest, you feel vulnerable. Oh so vulnerable and stupid, you shouldn’t have said it.

Fuck fuck fuck.

You should have just kept your stupid mouth shut, dragged your stupid ass back home and took a stupid shower.

But it was too late.

Fred takes a slow step back, continued by several until he’s on the other side of the room with his arms propped against a wall, head hanging low. He’s breathing heavily, you’re finally crying.

“So you aren’t going to say anything?” you yell, stomping your heel on the ground. “Do you know how hard it was for me to watch you and Eva all those years, you wouldn’t even look at me.” you choke on your sobs, remembering everything. The painful memories, the emotions hit you like the Ford Angelia with Ron behind the wheels.

“The Yule Ball, I saw you two together. It hurt so much and I cou- umpfh”

You almost swallow your tongue.

Soft lips, those are the only words writing out in your mind. Fireworks erupting around the letters and causing shivers to run around your entire being. Taken aback, you can’t move until your mind processes that Fred Weasley is kissing you.

Fred groans, opening your mouth with his and grazing his tongue against your bottom lip. It’s so gentle that you doubt you feel it, until his hand grips the back of your head and presses you against him harder. Now you can taste the wet, warm feel of his tongue against yours, the certain flicks of the tip gracing your own.

He pulls back only slightly, panting against your lips and causing your breaths to intermingle intimately. “The Yule Ball,” he starts, going back in for another, hurried kiss.

“She told me, you - closer.” He yanks you in by your waist with his other hand, palm gripping your ass and kneading it with vigour.

“Told me she saw you with someone else,” he pulls you closer when your hands wrap around his shoulders. “It broke me ____.”

“Fred,” you sigh, gripping on his sweater tighter.

“That’s Freddie for you, love.”

Heat curls in your lower belly. His lips are on yours again, begging you for something you didn’t quite know yet. “Freddie,” you chant.

“That’s right.” he chuckles lowly, his rumbling voice against your chest.

You merely shiver, latch onto the tufts on his neck and anchor him lower to your lips until your lungs are overwhelmed with nothing but slow, languid kisses. Fred kissed really good - oh who were you kidding, he was the best kiss you’ve ever had. It’s addictively so, and you chase his lips when he pulls away.

“I,” he breaths, whispering. “I was so devastated by what Eva told me,” he hugs you tighter. “I loved - still love you so much, I didn’t know how to cope.”

“You love me?” Now, there’s more tears. You aren’t sure if they’re of pure joy, frustration or the ache between your legs. “For how long?”

“Since third year,” he murmurs against your cheek, breathing in your scent and shakily exhaling. “I still wear the bracelet, never took it off.”

“I saw,” you nuzzle your head in his chest, your heart feels like it’s about to burst. “It made me so happy, I thought you would have lost it by now or something.”

“Oh Flower, there you are hurting my pride again.”

The nickname knocks all the breath out of your lungs. You only hug him tighter, not daring to mention that throughout these years you flinched whenever someone said flower, or how you simply refused to visit any flower shop. Yes, it did cause problems during holidays and of course, funerals but at least your Disney gift cards contained sentiment.

“I wasn’t with anyone during the Yule Ball.” you mutter.

“I know.”

“Then why didn’t you come back?”

Fred shivers. “I didn’t know back then, Merlin if I had…”

“You’re an idiot.” you chuckle, hurriedly wiping away the drying tears from your cheeks.

“That’s right,” Fred rasps, pulling your face towards his. “I’m a stupid, stupid prat.”

That was, if the loud countdown roaring outside Fred’s bedroom door didn’t ruin the most pleasurable lips you were going to taste - yet again.

Your eyes widen, Fred whines and pulls you back into his arms but you’re already rushing to the closed door. “We’re missing the count down!”

“Oh come one,” Fred steps behind you, hand over yours to grip the knob. You struggle under his hold and try to turn it. “I’ll make you count, hop on the bed, love.”

You have to gulp down nothing but air to keep yourself at bay. God, yes, you would have shouted, stripped naked and let him have his way with you.

But you can’t, not with your friends right outside the door, slightly tipsy and merrily counting down from ten. Speaking of, they’re nearing seven - you have exactly seven seconds to push Fred off and throw yourself outside.

Six seconds until you turn the knob and ignore Fred’s protests, five until Harry and Ginny throw their arms around your shoulders, four until George decides not the comment on you and Fred’s flushed appearance, three until Fred does, two until you’re suddenly pulled forward - one, Fred’s kissing you in front of his friends and family.

Fuck.

It was that one, long second that Ron lets the confetti burst in utter silence while everyone stares at you. It’s a quick yet passionate peck - enough for couples to abandon their new year's kiss and focus solely on yours.

“Finally!” George yells.

Ginny cheers after his brother, “Took you ten bloody years!”

Last of the Weasleys, Ron, gapes. “When did that become a thing?” he mutters, completely oblivious but still happy nonetheless.

If Hermione and Ginny hadn’t swept you away, you would have spent your night glued to Fred’s side, demanding to show him off after all those years of pining.

Your two friends keep asking questions - not overly detailed considering Fred’s Ginny’s older brother. Your lips hurt from smiling by the end of your overly exaggerated story,

The end of the night brings tranquility over the apartment, after presents are ripped open and everyone says their goodbyes, you’re left alone the twins, helping them clean the flat with quick flicks of your wand.

Your watch reads one thirty, you need to leave soon. Aleyna and Blaise hadn’t shown, which only means the proposal was a success. You want to go home and congratulate them, but also spend some time with Fred.

Fred himself is busy wiping pint glasses and lining them neatly in empty cupboards. The both of you keep stealing glances at each other, and it would have been more romantic if George would stop scoffing whenever Fred bashfully smiled in your direction.

“____.”

You hum in acknowledgment, watching Fred’s back shuffle as he washes the dishes.

“Thanks for giving a hand, you didn’t have to.” George smiles kindly, hands tucked in his pockets.

You smile back, “Oh it’s alright.”

“I just wanted to apologize.” he looks down, it isn’t the dorky shyness George casually sports at times, he looks sorrowful.

“For what?” you ask, lips lowering into a frown to match his.

“For being a git all those years back. I was young and a shit head. I’m sorry.” he sighs, leaning his shoulder on the wall.

You chuckle, just the familiar voice of George resurfaces pleasant memories you wished you never forgot. “It’s alright, I’m over it.”

“Really?” he raises a brow. “Because I wouldn’t forgive myself personally. Go on, give me a smack or something.”

“I’m not smacking you George.” you say, you make sure your tone sounds playful to put his mind at ease. “We all had our issues, I probably should have talked to you guys instead of just storming off. Partly my fault.”

George smiles, “It wasn’t your fault, but I’m glad you can forgive me.” He squeezes your shoulder in a way to reassure you, while it feels like he needs it more. You nod fondly.

“And about Eva, we didn’t really like her, y’know. She told us that you needed space, and that we should leave you alone. Just now realizing how rubbish it sounds.”

“Took you long enough.”

He chuckles again, much more genuine like you prefer and pushes himself off the wall. “I better get some sleep,” he glances at Fred, “leave you two alone. And ____, please don’t distance yourself.”

“I won’t.”

Your lie slips so easily.

It’s the welcoming silence that accepts your doubts with open arms - everything was happening overwhelmingly quick, or was it just your fear of being left alone again?

You smile at George when he retires to his room, it’s more of a constipated grimace but George seems to have bought it.

You take this time to finally think, let your protective walls analyse what the fuck happaned in the last five hours because it was too good to be true. Fred couldn’t simply love you that easily, after everything he did. It didn’t explain why he started dating Eva without consulting you first, or how he was with her that night after the Yule Ball. If he loved you this much, why would he bury himself between her legs, abandon you in the hollow halls of Hogwarts? Why would he believe her so easily?

“____.”

Even his voice sounds distant. You can’t tell if it’s him speaking or your past.

“____, darling.”

Nope, that’s definitely Fred. His frustratingly sexy cologne is mocking you like every other amazing aspect this man has.

“Huh?” you snap out of your thoughts. “Oh, yes hello.”

Fred tilts his head to the side, expression softening the moment you speak. “You okay? Something on your mind?”

You tentatively shake your head. Fred sighs and reaches out to stroke your head - you close your eyes but the feeling of his calloused hands never show.

Eyes fluttering open, you realize your fears are coming true. He’s going to tell you that he changed his mind, that he doesn't love you and this is all a big mistake.

“Sorry,” he breathes, cheeks alight. You hold in your breath, ready to face the truth.

Fred’s silent; he’s doing that thing again. The thing where he somehow magically thinks he can communicate with you without saying anything.

“Fred,” you sigh, and his face drops. “Why did you date Eva if you loved me so much?”

There, you asked it. Because if you hadn’t, it would haunt you for the rest of your days, crawl around your heart like an infectious disease. You have enough of those, you don’t want another.

Fred breathing sputters, he looks at you like you know the answer. “Because…it was the closest thing to you I could have. I know it sounds awful-“

“Yes it does, and stupid!”

“I know!” he exclaims. “I didn’t know how to cope, she gave me the affection I longed to get from you.”

Your eyes start to swell, the sentence should make you remotely happy but it doesn’t. “Why did you stay with her for so long?”

“Look.” Fred cups your face, breathing heavily. “Yes, at first it was because I was petty. I thought you were with someone else that bloody night, I was heartbroken and needed a distraction. She was the closest thing.”

“That doesn’t explain the rest-“

“Let me finish!” He sounds earnest, adamant on wiping all your doubts and replacing them with nothing but his love. If only it was that easy.

“I can’t do this tonight Fred-“

“Please just call me Freddie.” he whimpers, kissing your cheek harshly. He stands there, face close to yours like if he let go you would leave.

I“I’m tired, I have a headache and my feet hurt.” you’re crying, again. Nothing out of the ordinary considering you’ve been doing it damn well for the last eight years.

“Stay over the night, it’s late. I’ll make you some chamomile, you always loved chamomile. Please.” Fred begs, lips against your cheek and you can feel the wetness of his own tears. His forehead presses against your temple. “Don’t leave me again.”

Your heart aches, it’s the most painful kind of hurt you’ve been dreading to feel again after all these years. This was worse than the neglect of your parents, the pain that night in the Burrow caused, watching Fred introduce Eva to his mother. This was why you’ve been avoiding him.

Because this time you know what to do, you know what’s for the best and it takes all of the protection you’ve built for yourself to push Fred off. Now, there’s none. Now, you’re standing before him, vulnerable and all your emotions on display.

“Goodnight Fred, merry christmas.”

This time, the door you walk out of feels much smaller and suffocating.

————

It’s ironic how the weather matches your mood for six days.

Saturday; clear skies with a blizzard hidden beneath the clouds. Aleyna’s engagement celebration. Show up with puffy eyes enough to make you blind, sit through nice dinner without crying, eventually start crying when she shows you the ring, act like you’re crying because you’re happy, get snot all over Aleyna’s ring, walk home while the storm finally presents itself and tells you that you’re a miserable piece of shit.

Sunday; small flurry. Spend your day weeping quietly and eating leftover takeout while browsing through your tv cable. Eventually watch a romantic movie, weep more.

Monday; cloudy, soft breeze. Cry more, hug your slightly overweight cat and get dragged outside by Aleyna because she figures out that you didn’t sob in front of an entire restaurant because your best friend was getting married. Sit at her bar, drink beer and stuff your face with cornish pasties while you tell her what happened, until you eventually pass out.

Tuesday; cloudy and dark. Spend your day thinking if you’ll ever be loved again. Regretful, pained, hungover and miserably under caffeinated.

Wednesday; crazy fucking blizzard that catches you so off guard you forget you ruined you chances with Fred Weasley for a moment. Aleyna tells you how stupid you are, you realize how stupid you are, then find out Aleyna is more of a snake than she lets on because she lets you eat a whole pack of doughnuts and that amazing Shepherd’s Pie her mom makes.

Thursday; clear skies. Not a cloud in sight. Your head is unusually clear, maybe too clear because you forget to feed Jambo and take out the trash. You think about running back to the joke shop, tell Fred you love him and that you don’t give a shit about the past anymore. But you don’t.

And now it’s Friday. You’re sitting on your bed, Aleyna in your closet, flinging clothes at you for you to try on because she insists you go out. It’s been a week since you walked out on Fred, again, and perhaps made the biggest mistake of your life.

“Stop wasting away your pathetic life here and do it outside!” she yells, voice getting closer when she comes into view.

“Aleyna, I’m really not in the mood.” you dismiss, laying back on your bed. “I just, should I go to him?”

Aleyna groans, pained. “Merlin forbid, this is the millionth time you ask me. I tell you yes, you don’t do it.”

“What if he says it’s too late, and it is! I don’t deserve-“

“Shut up. Maybe it is, maybe it isn’t. What matters is that you need to at least try.”

You need to at least try. Aleyna’s voice echoes around your head after she leaves and you're back to your routine. Get up, brush your hair because the tangles bother you more than you let on, (and sometimes your teeth, if you feel like it.) then stay in your pyjamas all day while lazing around your apartment. You’ve started making coffee for yourself again, which is a small step but still encouraging. Plopping down on your couch, you sigh. Jambo follows, leaving fur floating around the air in his wake.

Love To Love You Baby by Donna Summers plays softly in the background, your magic radio is mocking you yet again on how single and sad you are. Especially after how long it has been since you’ve had sex. It’s painful, but you can’t help but think of Fred whenever you try to at least relieve some stress. Of course, this ends with you curled in a corner and crying, it’s frustrating how much he turns you on, and now knowing you can never have him-

Jambo’s loud meow reminds you that you haven’t brushed him today and you slowly get up, striding to the kitchen. You try to relax your mind but your chest feels even tighter with your effort. Your house is an organized mess, you didn’t bother cleaning up throughout the stages of your grief.

You should talk to him. You should go outside, get fresh air, make out a game plan and at least talk to him. Fred’s kind, the funniest, most lovingly stubborn man you’ve ever met. He doesn’t deserve what you’re putting him through. You don’t want to leave things so bittersweet again, you want to keep seeing George, even Fred if time allows.

The pain of your past doesn’t allow you to follow your desires. You hate yourself for it and it’s only a matter of time before you break and go back to your old, quiet self. It’s as if the past got your wrists on lock, holding you back whenever you try to sprint free and love again. You thought Fred would have unlocked the chains and swept you away, but that was before you decided that he shouldn’t.

Gripping the fur comb on your left hand, Jambo watches you walk over to him with big eyes. He looks triumphant, lying on his chubby stomach and readying himself for the brush of his three year life.

Knock Knock

Perhaps this is why Jambo hates Aleyna. You chuckle. “Sorry Bo, give me a minute. She probably forgot her coat again.”

You put down the comb and rush over to the door. Not bothering to check through the peephole, you fling the door open while laughing. “Forgot your condoms or some-“

By the look Fred gives you, you’d think he hits it raw.

“Fred.” you whisper, frozen with your hand gripped on the handle.

He looks haggard, eye bags under his eyes with slightly damp hair sticking out obscenely from the sides. It looks longer, or perhaps it's the way he quickly runs a hand through it and smooths it back. You probably look no different, yet Fred still looks unfairly handsome, eyes dripping with honey and curved bottom lip tucked between his teeth.

Your heart hammers in your chest as you take in his appearance. He’s wearing a simple black pullover with a pea coat messily tucking in the material of his hoodie. You can see the after effects of the snow outside visible on his grey sweatpants, you can’t tell if he came to your house straight after working out for…however long he works out to have thighs like that.

“Can I-“ he gives you a look over and you blush. There’s a hundred different things you want to say, and you merely stay quiet and look at him with hopeful eyes. Coward. “Can I come in?”

You step aside wordlessly. He takes one, big step and he’s inside. Cursing his giant legs, you close the door behind him.

“Wow,” he clears his throat, looking around your apartment. “Nice place.”

“Thank you.”

Fred’s hand twitches when he hears your voice, as if he hadn’t heard it since he was a child. As if he was hearing it for the first time.

As soon as he steps in, his cologne engulfs the air around him - as if he’s marking himself in your house and leaving his delicious after taste. You would tell him he smells amazing but the air between you is too tense to say anything but;

“Fred I-“

“I wanted to-“

Fred breaks out into a smile, and you follow. It looks like a grimace, a hopeful one though. “I wanted to apologize.”

Your heart swells. You know it shouldn’t, because you don’t deserve an apology but the fact that he thought of you makes you feel like you have another chance. Of course you do, the poor man walked over to your house in the middle of a snowstorm. There’s got to be something there, right?

“Fred,-“

“No, let me finish this time.”

You stay silent.

“Been trying to think of the right ruddy words to say this past week but fuck that.” he growls, shrugging off his coat when you offer. “I’m not waiting any bloody longer.”

“I admit that at some point,” he starts, taking a deep breath. “I had feelings for Eva. That’s why I didn’t break up with her. It was well after three months of us dating and I thought I moved on.” you usher him to sit down, quickly following behind. Your legs feel wobbly as he continues.

“That’s why I didn’t break up with her, and I won’t deny that what I had with her was nice, but it wasn’t you. No one ever compared to you ____. I was fine until you decided to stop being our friend.”

“I didn’t decide that, It was something I had to do.” you defend fiercely, sitting next to him on the bar stool of your kitchen island. Damn rich apartments.

“I know that now, but at that time I thought you hated me. I clung onto Eva because I thought - seeing as she was your childhood friend - we’d be friends again.”

You scoff. “Look how that turned out.”

Fred raises a brow.

“Sorry, continue.”

“I started getting over it until that summer happened. It killed me to see you again, that’s when I realized I could never stop loving you. I blamed myself for everything, for fucking up all my chances even though I-“

You put a hand on his shoulder, “Freddie, you didn’t do anything wrong.”

Fred pauses, squeezes your hand and gives you a wide, hopeful smile that punches you right in the heart. His head dips down to rest on your shoulder and he sighs. “You called me Freddie.”

“I did.” you smile.

“I wanted to talk to you, but you kept avoiding me. With the war and everything I just couldn’t, especially after that near death thing.”

“Near what?” You gasp.

Fred chuckles, as if it was no big deal. It makes your chest ache. “I got trapped under a wall, Georgie saved me. Owe him my bloody life. Took me sometime to get over it though, those were the times I needed someone the most.” he takes a deep breath before continuing.

“It was around those times that I found out Eva cheated on me. She was acting dodgy the past few months, and I feel awful for feeling relieved when we broke up.”

“But, that’s not your fault.” you sigh, hand caressing his back gently. He relaxes at your touch and a smile tugs at your lip at this. “You don’t owe Eva a damn thing. It’s okay to feel like that, because I do.”

Fred laughs, a small melodic sound that brings you pride that you pulled it out of him. “Oh, is that how it works now?”

“Yep, I said so.” you give him a toothy grin, and he chuckles, further causing your ruin.

But you can’t let things get too comfortable, not before you’re completely honest with him. Here he is, vulnerable and open, telling you his entire life story and you sure as hell are going to do the same - minus some embarrassing parts.

“Do you,” you clear your throat, awkwardly shuffling on your stool. The seat is uncomfortable and it makes everything all the more frustrating. “Do you want to know what I was thinking before you showed up?”

Fred pauses, gaze lingering over your face attentively. Breath catching, you let him look at you. Directly, fully look at you. He flushes, quickly hidden away by his hand when he nods his head slowly and leans on his palm.

“I was thinking of you.”

“Oh?”

“Yeah, I was thinking if I should just go to you myself.”

Fred takes a quick breath. Shuddering because of the cold, surely, his tone is soft and barely above a whisper. “Why didn’t you?”

“I was scared you’d reject me. I was going to apologize to you, get on my knees and beg for forgiveness until you gave me a second chance.”

“Oh.”

You let him grasp your chin and turn your face towards his, he lovingly strokes your cheek, long finger somehow reaching easily. “I’m sorry Freddie, I love you.”

“I’ve waited to hear those words for so long.” his chest heaves when he responds.

“Well, how much of a let down is it?” you smile, nuzzling your hand in his palm.

He leans in and presses a kiss to your forehead, then to your cheek. “Let down?” he tells you, as if he heard the most obscene thing. “It’s so much better than I could have imagined, and I’m sorry too. I hate myself for letting you go through so much pain on your own. If I wasn’t such a clueless git I could’ve done this much earlier.”

“Do what?”

Fred kisses you. It’s not urgent, nor wanton, it’s soft and tender that still leaves you breathless. He leans his forehead against yours, and you ruin the kiss by smiling but he couldn’t care less. Opening your mouth, you let him flick your tongues together until it’s a sloppy, needy mess.

He groans, and that’s when you know the kiss progressed much too far to stop now. The needy ache between your legs pushes you to hover yourself over him, and his strong arms grasp you by the waist. His lips aren’t a perfect fit, it makes the kiss all the more pleasurable and it’s until he’s slowly walking towards your bedroom with your legs tucked around his hips that you break away.

“Fred,” you sigh when he sets you down against a wall. “I want you.”

He frowns, “It’s Freddie, how many times-“ he gathers your knee in one hand and pushes his crotch against your center with a grunt. “Do I have to tell you?��

You barely respond, clawing at his back. The curve of his thick cock gradually growing, his thighs encasing around your legs feels too damn good and you don’t know how long until you’re fully at his mercy. Fred roughly rolls his hips, a deep grumble leaving him and the stimulation is enough to make you whine. “Again,” you rock your pervis.

“Oh yeah?” he smirks, humping you harder. “You like this? How much? Let me feel.”

You rut against him desperately, trying to get off on the friction Fred barely decides to provide.

True to his word, Fred kisses you again with a groan, this time sparing you no tenderness and sucking on your bottom lip until it throbs. His hips continue to rut all the while his free hand slithers down your clavicle, down the sides of your waist - he makes sure to spread his palm wide to feel you everywhere - until he teasingly snaps the band of your pyjama bottoms. You yelp, relishing in his moans.

“If you like it so much- well shit.” his eyes flutter shut the moment he feels your slick from your underwear. “My love, you’re so wet that I bet I can taste you through your panties.”

If you weren’t wearing your yellow duck polka dot panties this would have been more sexier, and it takes Fred talking about eating you out to realize - oh my god, you’re wearing your duck panties.

“Fred, don-“

Fred has already pushed your bottoms down, revealing the abomination and further causing your face to feel hotter.

“Oh?” he smirks. “Sexy lingerie, all for me?”

You groan, hiding your face in his shoulder while he laughs at you. You feel his chest bob, and you can’t help but giggle alongside him.

“Now, strip.” he commands, and all the humor in the situation vanishes in an instant.

He lets go of your knee and you easily slip out of your bottoms, then slowly said polka dot panties. He grips your thighs, hoisting you up on his hips again and before you know it, he’s stumbling into your room.

His hand is cupping the back of your head, somehow gone there the moments he walked. You wouldn’t know, it’s hard to concentrate on anything else when the heat of his cock between your thighs feels like that.

Fred deposits you on the messily scattered forest you call your bed, and the smell of linen mixed with his cologne is enough for you to grind your hips on nothing.

Fred tuts, pushing a palm flat on your hip. He trails his hand between your legs and palms your pussy, bare. “Babe, you’re dripping. Since how long?”

You whine, “Since the moment you walked through - ah, my door.”

Fred’s eyes glaze over with nothing but dangerous greed. Dipping his knee on the mattress, he manhandles you into submission. “You think you can just get away with saying shit like that?” he groans, eyes fixating on wherever it lands on your body. It’s like he’s trying to take it all in, overwhelmed yet still wanton.

He shuffles to sit against your headboard and pats his large thigh, you waste no time crawling towards him. He quickly grabs your waist before you can approach him. Pulling you against him with your knees propped between his thighs, he’s face to face with your pussy and drooling.

“Such a sweet, pretty cunt.” he breathes, gently kissing your clit. You cry out, knees buckling but Fred’s large palms are flat on your ass and adamant on keeping you up and against his lips. Your center throbs, this is all you have ever wanted - the both of you have ever wanted and Fred has the audacity to tease.

“I know, I know.” He gently sushes. “I need to,” his head leans on your abdomen, desperate. “Need to get you ready for my cock.”

You barely nod, Fred seems to be in battle with himself. You don’t know which side wins, until he starts to suckle your clit with continuous, obscene kissing noises. You grip his shoulder, body bending in half. It feels so good, too good that you can’t hold straight. “Please - Fred,”

Gasping, your pelvis rocks forward. He keeps you still with his muscles digging in your hips, ass, back - everywhere he’s desperately roaming and memorizing.

His tongue finally darts forward - you knew that goddam tongue would be what did it - you nearly collapse, melting forward. It’s wet and warm and god - almost what you imagine his dick might feel like if it ever prods at your entrance.

He’s licking with bold, textured strokes. Your thighs are quivering, it’s the sudden brush of pleasure that meets your cunt every other second that causes this.

“Shit,” Fred pulls back, one hand holding your thighs wider. His thumb circles around your entrance and you cry out in pleasure. “My balls feel so fucking tight ____. If I keep this up, I might just come before I can put my dick in you.”

“Then - ahh Freddie!”

“Don’t get mouthy with me.” he smirks, sliding a finger inside. “I knew what you were gonna say before you opened that sweet mouth of yours.”

He fucks you like this, wet squelching noise mixing with your pants and moans. Working you open, Fred curls a finger inside and your thighs finally give out. “Merlin, you’re gonna get it,” he gives you a sweet kiss on the stomach. “I’m just as desperate to fuck you. Look,”

You do look, very gladly at that. He adds a second finger the moment your eyes fall on the wet patch of his bottoms. He’s rutting against nothing, all the while scissoring his fingers inside you - and from the look he gives you, you know he’s imagining what it's like to be inside you.

“Fred!” you gasp, rocking faster until your legs start to jerk and twitch. You don’t want to come yet, want to savor the way Fred’s fucking you with nothing but two fingers and it’s better than any sex you’ve had.

Your arousal pools between his fingers, dripping down his bracelet adorned wrist, all the way down to his veiny forearms. It’s a sight for sore eyes, Fred watches in a trance, gaze half lidded. You can see his cock twitch in his pants and he moans, “Fucking hell babe, look at the mess you’ve made.”

His thumb presses against your center with his two other fingers working, and he roughly drags it over to your clit to press. He’s licking again, slurping noises mixing with the pats of his tongue quickly dragging across your pussy.

That does it. Whining, and with quick breaths you hurtle towards such an intense orgasm that you swear you see Santa himself and his jingle fucking bells. It’s sudden and weakening, you barely register. Fred’s there all the while, desperately licking every drop of his hard work until there’s nothing. He groans and moans, like he’s having his thanksgiving now.

He’s not like a starved man, or any other cliche line you can think of. No, it’s like he has made a deal with the devil and is captured by the dark vitality of greed. He can’t stop, and merlin, do you not want him to.

“That was,” you breathe, taking a seat on his thigh when he allows.“That was the best orgasm I’ve had.”

“And that was the most gorgeous sight I have ever seen.” Fred smiles, it slowly turns into a smirk. The cocky bastard is way too proud of himself. He should be though, it’s been a while since you’ve had sex - if it always felt like this you would have never stopped.

But you know it never feels this good. No, it’s because of Fred. It’s him, and how much you love him, and how attractive he is - how skilled, amazing, passionate of a man he is. He’s perfect and way out of your league but you don’t care because he’s finally yours.

Said man is breaking out in a sappy grin, kissing your lips sweetly to whisper against them. “Get used to it.” He kisses you again. “I’m going to make you come again, and again, and again until you can’t walk.” he’s lowering you down onto your back, hands caressing your thighs.

“Really?”

“Especially now that I know how sweet and tight you are,“ Fred runs a finger through your pussy and you whimper. “How amazing you smell,” he dips down to lazily suck a hickey on your collarbone. “How soft your skin is,” his hands are lifting your waist up to unhook your bra. “How much I’m in love with you.”

Your gaze softens, and you let him undress you, bra after shirt until you’re left bare beneath. He shivers, his eyes are darting everywhere, to the curve of your hips, up your stomach - and finally, the slope of your breasts. He sucks in a breath. “You,” he rasps. “You had this bikini, that summer.”

“Wha- which one?”

“The white one.”

Your eyes widen. “Oh.”

“We all loved that bikini, especially the days when the lake was particularly cold. Your nipples would be crystal fucking clear.”

You should feel embarrassed, fuck you really should but you knew what you were doing when you bought that bikini. That doesn’t stop you from acting clueless though, “Fred you big oa - oh!”

Fred dips to suck on your nipples, mouth wide open and hungry. “From that day onward, I fucking knew your tits were amazing.” he groans, gazing at them for a moment. “ Shit, was I right.”

You feel his clothed cock rub against you as he speaks - and it finally becomes a problem.

“A-ah, Fred. Clothes,” you barely gesture, though Fred understands you quickly. Sitting back on his heels, he swiftly removes his hoodie overhead.

Of course he isn’t wearing anything underneath.

Of course he has abs.

You curse under your breath - Fred’s chest is well defined, as you expected it to be. Well toned pecs, pert nipples hard and on display, golden skin stretching over his abdomen and six pairs of muscles you’d like to mark. He’s lean yet buff, corded well with muscle and now you know where those enthusiastic years of Quidditch have gone into

You reach for his arm, Fred quickly obliges and lets you guide his palm flat on your body. You breathe heavily - you love how you're he’s feeling you up like this. His hand lands on your breast, and he gives it a rough squeeze before rolling off the bed to get out of his bottoms.

“Are you trying to kill me, doing that? Huh?” he rasps, stumbling slightly. He swings his socks somewhere and gets back on the bed. “Is that what you want?”

When you don’t respond, he chuckles. Slowly, he pushes down his boxer briefs. It’s teasing, this motion. But then again, everything about Fred Weasley is.

His cock slaps against his abdomen - that’s how big it is. You feel yourself salivate, pupils expanding at the thought of such a thick, attractive cock inside you. You almost jump forward and sit on it but when you see the angry red color of his cock, the twitching of his head and the pre-cum that drips, it becomes clear how much he has been holding back.

Fred grips his cock and the head gushes slightly, you feel your cunt flutter. “Come here.”

You let him grip your body and settle you on his lap, entrance inches away from the head of his cock. You’re making eye contact, it’s almost intimidating how intense his gaze is. On your heat, breasts and fucked out face. “Merlin, I’ve been dreaming about this for fucking years. Let me,” he breathes. “I should just take a picture and stare at it all day.”

“Why take a picture when you have the real thing.” you smirk slightly.

Fred groans, “Ohh, you’re such a good girl.”

You smile, “Freddie, please get a condom. Flattery won’t get you that far.”

“Damn it.” he smiles jokingly, reaching for your night stand.

“Wait, shit.” you get off his lap and down your bed, legs wobbling a bit as you stride towards your dresser with hurried steps. Fred whines when you leave but you pay him no mind. “Been a while, here.”

Grabbing the pack, you stumble back on the bed and sit on your knees.

“Well, what are you waiting for?” Fred nods his head. “Put it on, baby.”

You rip the packet open and slowly roll it on him, his cock is already wet and glistening enough for it to be quick. Your center pulses with want as you do this.

Fred pushes you down and crawls on top, centering his cock with your entrance. “No more,” he grunts. “Gotta have you now.”

Gasping, you feel him rub against you. He continues to tease, until the tip of his cock finally pushes past.

You cry out and glance down at where his cock bulges, it’s a type of pain you’d love to feel everyday. “A-ah Fred!”

“I know baby,” he whines, pushing further in with a quick thrust. He strokes slowly to work you open. You cry out, arousal gushing out.

“Such a sweet pussy, taking all my cock so well.” he kisses your jaw, feathering his lips around your throat and lazily sucking. “Feel so good.”

It’s true, it feels so fucking good that you can’t hold in your moans anymore. Not that you were trying to, but the desire to chant his name becomes reality when he rolls his hips against your center. He’s so close to bottoming out and the woozy cloud floating in your head grows. “Oh my god, don’t want you to stop.”

The stretch feels so good that you can’t help but clench around him, pain jerking your hips up.

Fred's balls deep in, his chest heaves and his eyes squeeze shut for a moment. He pauses, letting the two of you adjust to the euphoric feeling of his cock inside. ”Why the fuck would I wan’t to stop?” Your insides are throbbing, and you find yourself arching your back every time he gives you a sweet kiss on your chest. “Why would I ever stop. Shit, baby, I love you.”

“I love you too - oh!”

Fred withdraws, then slams into you with such vigour that you scream. Another shameful flow of your juices gush out as pleasure rips through you. He continues this, another harsh thrust into your cunt that makes you arch in pleasure. “Freddie!”

“Just like that.” he grunts, rolling his hips. “Love when you call me that.”

His hand hooks your leg around his waist, and he speeds up his motion, soothing the needy ache you feel.

lt’s dizzying, how good he can make you feel. Like you’re the center of the universe and all that matters is Fred fucking you open with sweet, yet untetheredly rough thrusts. It’s scary how lost you can get in him, and it becomes haunted when he captures your lips in a kiss and lifts your leg up on his shoulder.

“You’re so tight, oh fucking hell. Look at you, my goodness you’re absolutely perfect.” he murmurs against your lips, muting your moans.

“Fred! Oh god - ah!”

Your cries egg him on, he’s ruthless with the way his fingers dig in your ass to slam into you faster. The angle, his thick cock, how he’s biting down on your lower lip, you can barely take in. You feel helplessly at his mercy, and soon he’s fucking you too hard to keep kissing. “Easy, baby,” he coos when you squirm underneath him. “I’ve got you - my sweet little flower. Feel good?”

The question itself is clearly hysterical, your pleasure is etched on to your face and your thighs quiver underneath him. His mouth hangs open, eyes droopy, yet he still wears that infuriatingly attractive smirk. “Yes! Feel so good - ah you cocky bastar - umpfh!”

He drapes your other leg over his shoulder, your breasts bounce as his thrust turns more languid. Your back arches, mouth hanging open. “Oh my god - Fred!”

It feels so fucking good like this, so deep and good and - fuck, everything else other than him becomes a distant memory.

“Ahh - shit baby. Doing so good,” he grunts, his moans turn more high pitched when you meet his thrusts halfways. “Drown me baby, my flower takes me so well,”

Fred’s hand curls around the mattress as his other grips your thigh. He slams into you, stretching you out so good that your orgasm builds rapidly within. With your legs draped over his shoulder, he bends forward further until he’s sucking in your chest and leaving red marks. “OH - Freddie,” you whine, clawing at his back.

“That’s it my love,” he croons, head thrown back yet still adamant on watching you. His hands tangle in your hair, carding through and gripping them hard. “Come on my cock - make a mess of your sheets. Doing so well for me, wanna feel you clench around me.”

His face contorts in pleasure when your cunt does clench, hair draping over his eyes to cover his glazed, blown out pupils. Fred reaches between your legs to sweetly thumb your clit, squeezing it between two fingers and it’s the final straw until you break.

You arch in pleasure, shuddering violently underneath him. Fred’s letting you ride it out, finally gasping and his hands clench around your thigh and the mattress. Your hand finds his, interlacing your fingers together as you messily grind your hips and finally come down. Ropes of hot cum fill the condom around your sensitive walls. You tighten, aching a little from the warmth that you can’t feel directly from the plastic barrier.

Fred collapses on top with panting breaths. His head rests in the crook of your neck, arms wrapped tightly around your waist.

“Well shit.”

“Yeah.” you chuckle breathily. The post orgasm clarity makes you realize; fuck, I love this man way more than I let on. You suddenly feel the need to show him, and yet you settle for tenderly brushing his hair back when he lifts his head.

Fred smiles, grin lazy and sappy. After pecking your lips, he slowly pulls out. You whine from the sudden coldness when he rolls out of your arms, then he grins at your noise of distress.

“Hold on love, be right back.” Fred pulls off his condom, ties the top and tosses it to the trash before collapsing next to you - way more dramatically. His arm drapes over you, pulling you to his chest and pressing a kiss on your forehead. “I love you.”

You sigh, content. “Love you too,” you smirk. “Would love you more if you cleaned me up.”

Fred’s eyes flash dangerously. “Oh?”

“Not like that you idiot!” you smile, gently slapping his chest. “Swish your wand or something, I don’t wanna get up.”

“Hm,” he taps his chin. “Give me a tour of your apartment and I’ll think about it.”

You sigh, propping yourself on your arms. Fred whines and tries to pull you back in but you don’t relent. “Alright alright.”

Rolling off the bed, you rush to the bathroom, ignoring the pulsing soreness in your core. “Wha - come back! What about my tour?” Fred yells after you.

You laugh at his eagerness. “You’re not getting it!”

After cleaning yourself up, you practically hurl yourself in his arms. Fred catches you with something between a grunt and a chuckle, leaning against the headboard and letting you rest your head on his chest. Your eyes lull around, begging to give into your exhaustion. “Close your eyes, flower,” he whispers sweetly, gently running his hands across your hair and massaging your scalp.

The snowstorm outside has gotten intense, the wind howls against your sealed windows yet the world feels much brighter from this morning. It’s hard to focus on anything besides the way your heart flutters, and the feel of Fred beneath you. Snuggling closer, his fingers gently trace around your shoulders.

“Freddie?” you murmur, cheek pressed against his chest.

He hums in response.

“You’re staying over, right?”

Fred peers down at you, his brows are etched together and the concern on his face nearly makes you sob. “Do…do you not want me to?” he answers shakily.

You let out a breath. “Of course I want you to!”

“Good.” he smiles, letting out a bigger breath than you. For a moment, you think you broke the man. “Because you’re not getting rid of me anytime soon.”

#fred weasley x y/n #fred weasley angst #fred weasley smut #fred weasley imagine #fred weasley x reader #harry potter fic #fred weasley fluff #fred weasley #fred wealsey fic #hp smut #fluff #angst #hp angst #reader insert #george weasley #ginny weasley #hermione granger #harry potter

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jerzwriter · 3 years ago

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Looks Through the Years - T&C

T: "You know you were totally adorable." C: "So you would have asked me out?" T" "In a heartbeat." C: "We would have been prom king and queen!" T: "Heh, never mind what we'd be doing after the prom." C: "And somewhere my parents are thinking... thank God she didn't go to the prom with him."

T: "You graduated from adorable to gorgeous." C: "Then why did I go down 5%" T: "I was basing it on hair, not overall appearance." C: "You didn't like my hair?" T: "It was fluffy." C: "Wait YOU are going to talk to ME about fluffy college hair?" T: "Well, you dropped me four points to, so?" C: (Folds arms and looks annoyed.) T: "Don't worry, I still totally would have done you." C: (Shakes head and laughs.)

C: "You dropped me a point for a HEADBAND." T: "Well, why didn't you pic a picture without it?" C: "T, it's a headband. You don't have to like it, but you can't see past it?" T: "Apparently not." C: "Whatever. Now, if we can talk about you during med school... GODDAMN T!" T: "You like, huh?" C: "Like! I'm so glad we weren't in med school together. I would have failed out. I would have never gotten any work done." T: "It might have been worth it." C: "I can't say you're wrong."

T: "This is when I met her. God, I fell HARD! So clearly, she is getting a high mark." C: "A 92% though?" T" "I'm a hard grader. Trust me. 92 means SMOKING hot." C: "I gave you 100!" T: "Well... look at me," he laughed. C: "You're so humble." T: "Glad we weren't residents together." C: "Yup, we would have been caught in the on-call room WAY too much."

T: "And by then, she was MINE." C: "And he was MINE." T: "Yet, we managed to work together. And we didn't get caught messing around too much." C: "We were more mature by then." T: "Pfft, maybe you were." C: "You were too! Remember that one time you refused to do it in my office." T: "We were having a meeting in there 15 minutes later." C: "That would have been PLENTY of time." T: "Yes, dear."

T: "She is SUCH a turn-on as the boss. Who doesn't want a mean, powerful lady?" C: "I was never mean!" T: "I know, I was going for effect. How come I went down 10 points?" C: "I'm a tough grader."

T: "OK, so there is nothing more beautiful than my wife as a mom. From the second she found out, until now. There is just something about her that... I can't even describe." C: "Aw, but again... down two points." T: "Give me that damn thing, I'm changing it go 100%." C: "I like that you went simple again. It makes sense." T: "You never liked the previous look anyway." C: "T, I gave you a 90! Clearly I liked it. But you are like the sexiest Dad in the world. That's why I have to keep all those single mom's in line." T: "Hon, you never have to worry about anyone or anything. You are it for me forever."

Permatags: @anonymousrookie @barbean @binny1985 @bluebelle08 @bluerosesbloom @brokenmemoriesblog @charisworld @chemist-ana @crazy-loca-blog @custaroonie @everybodyscreamsposts @genevievemd @icecoffee90 @jamespotterthefirst @jennieausten @kachrisberry @kalinahonore @lady-calypso @liaromancewriter @mia143 @mjlbwork @mm2305 @phoenixrising308 @pixelberrygirl @potionsprefect @schnitzelbutterfingers @secretaryunpaid @shewillreadyou @shygirl4295 @socalwriterbee @thegreentwin @toadfrog26 @txemrn @wanderingamongthewildflowers @spookycolorpeanut @mainstreetreader

@openheartheadcanons

OH Tags in reblog because... tumblr

#open heart #tobias carrick #tobias carrick x mc #newlywed games with bree #tobias carrick x casey mactavish #looks through the years

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100sunny · 4 years ago

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Hello everyone who reads tmawh and has a tumblr! Here’s a tumblr exclusive one shot for all of you!

It’s under the read more!

Richard Abhorred was a very simple man.

He was ambiguously in his twenties, he lived in his parents basement, he had no job, he was a member of a teenager’s gang and said gang dared him into changing his last name, it was worth it for that piece of grape flavored gum. Very average and normal things really.

Yawning he reached for his phone that was currently ringing, his old mattress squealing as he shifted around. Squinting against the light of his screen he answered.

“Hello?”

“Dick we have a job for you! It’s urgent.”

Richard groaned, of course it was the gang leader calling him this early in the morning. He’s still not quite sure how he ended up under the command of a seventeen year old but he was in too deep to stop now.

“I told you to stop calling me that,” He gritted out into the phone, he hopes that his voice alone would be enough to strangle the teen.

“No. Anyways we need you to teach some punk a lesson! If you catch my drift.”

Richard absolutely knew what the teen was talking about, he’s already done this many times before to others who have gained the leader’s ire. It was always risky but he wouldn’t lie, the adrenaline rush was amazing.

“Yeah yeah, what did they do?”

“He got in the way of that huge gig we were planning for weeks! The little freak embarrassed us all with his weird red and black hands, we can’t let that slide!”

Huh.

“Red and black hands?” He asked as he navigated his disaster of a room and got ready to go out. Passing by the gum wall he scrapped off one of the chewed up wads and popped it into his mouth. Mm grape, it was the one he got from the dare.

“Yeah! It was crazy, he just had these things popping out of him like some monster or something… But anyways here’s the details.”

Richard chalked it up as a hallucination, maybe the leader refused to believe they all got beat by normal means. Resting his phone on his shoulder, he grabbed a stiff pair of gray socks and slipped them on before cramming his feet into his shoes. They used to be white, Richard thinks.

“He’s really short and he has black hair, he also has a eyepatch and I’m not sure if he’ll be wearing the same thing but he was wearing shorts with a button up under a sweater vest, you got that?”

“Roger.” Richard quipped as he climbed the stairs up to the main part of the house.

“Great, call me when it’s done.” And with that he hanged up.

He sighed as he entered the kitchen and saw his parents, his younger sister and their younger brother sitting around the table. His parents were talking happily with his sister who had come to stay with them during the days leading up to her wedding, it was annoying.

“I’m borrowing the car again mom.” He stated while snatching up the keys and heading for the door.

“Alright sweetheart! Remember that your sister’s wedding is tomorrow so you can’t borrow the car then!” His mom waved him off while his younger brother looked up from his handheld game and narrowed his eyes at him suspiciously.

Ah right, once he got called to do a job while he was picking him up from school so his brother had had a front row seat to him running over some guy. Now the little guy refused to talk to him which in his opinion was a little too dramatic. He had even taken him to McDonald’s and bought him a happy meal right after it had happened! Yet he still refused to talk to him, the ungrateful little brat.

Leaving the house without another word he made a beeline for his mom’s busted up car and instantly started circling around the city, keeping his eyes peeled for the guy he was described.

He kept at it for several hours but no luck. Guess he’ll try again tomorrow.

—————————————-

Quietly sneaking out of the house early in the morning while everyone was still asleep, Richard slipped out to continue his search. Only two hours in, his phone started ringing continuously, glancing at it he saw that the id tag revealed his sister’s name. Ah right the wedding

Well no chance he was quitting yet.

He continued his search while ignoring the ringing of his phone, various family members were calling him over and over again, it was annoying.

And then he was granted good fortune.

Because walking along the sidewalk he saw someone that fit the description he’d gotten. Yes!

He immediately stepped on the gas and the kid whipped around, a look of fear etched on his face and yep now he was 100% that that was his target. But of course things never went his way because one of the people with the kid just had to play hero and take the hit instead. Stepping out of the car for a moment he saw the guy bounce across the road a pretty impressive distance.

He winced, wow that wasn’t a pretty sight before fear gripped him and he rushed back into the car.

“Oh no the leader is going to kill me for getting the wrong guy,” He muttered to himself as he drove away quickly. He unstuck a wad from the dashboard and hurriedly began chewing on it, it was a nice form of stress relief.

The sound of his phone ringing cut through the silence and he finally picked it up.

“WHERE WERE YOU?! WHAT WAS SO IMPORTANT THAT YOU SKIPPED MY WEDDING?! HOW COULD YOU DO THAT?!” His sisters screaming sobs tore through the phone and he gulped.

Yep, he was a dead man for sure.

#omori #kind of??#tmawh #usually I hate name dropping real world stuff but it felt fitting here

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poc-movie-supremacy · 3 years ago

Text

I’m coming home to you

Christopher wanted to see his Buck today and who was Eddie to refuse? They picked up Buck for a nice day at the pier. When things go from great to catastrophic, will Eddie reunite with Buck and Christopher. Based off this tumblr post by @sexyapplemilk

This story is for @sexyapplemilk/ @fandom-101 @its-like-looking-in-3d

Thank you to @not-falling-but-flying for reading over this long long fic!

I hope you guys like it!

----

Eddie and Buck had the same day off. Well Eddie had the day off and Buck didn’t have work but potato potatoe. It was Saturday so Chris didn’t have school today either.

Eddie was sitting across from Chris at the breakfast table munching their way through breakfast. It had been a quiet morning so far, Chris was lost in his own thoughts. Eddie wondered if his kid was planning anything, but decided not to put much thought into it.

“Daddy can we see Bucky today?” The question made Eddie cock his eyebrow. He knew that Buck had been wallowing in his bed for the past few days after he got the news he couldn’t go back to work just yet. Part of him didn’t want to disturb the younger man, but the other part of him figured this could be good for Buck. Also he can’t say no to his kid.

“Let me ask him if he’s free.” Eddie will probably come over anyways, Buck can’t get mad at him, he had Chris. “Finish your breakfast first though mijo.” Chris shouts in joy and resumes eating his breakfast, bagel with fruits cause eddie can’t mess that up, with renewed rigour. Eddie smiles fondly at his kid while he takes a bit of fruit.

Eddie made Chris finish getting ready for the day. They had to do Chris’s PT, get changed, fix their hair. Eddie combed his hair back, put on a nice white shirt and a plaid button up, jeans, and some sneakers. Chris put on a yellow stripped shirt and blue pants. He waited impatiently for his dad by the door. Eddie chuckled, unlocked the door then walked with his kid to the car. “What do you want to do for today Chris?”

“We can color or Bucky says he got a new video game!”

“You don’t want to go outside?”

Chris looks at his dad curiously. Eddie helps him into the car then doubling back to get into the drivers seat. He starts the car and starts to drive. “What could we do outside?”

“You could go to the park, play on the play structure?”

Chris wrinkles his nose. “Bucky can’t fit on it though, I know, we’ve tried.” Eddie laughs out loud at that. The idea of Buck trying to fit into a play structure is way too amusing.

“Well okay then, no park, we could… go to the laser tag?”

“I promised I’d go with Denny next week though.”

“Hmmm yea we gotta keep our promises don’t we?”

“That’s what you always say.”

“Well maybe Buck will have better ideas huh?”

“Bucky has the best ideas!”

---

They get up to Buck’s apartment and Eddie doesn’t knock, instead he just lets himself in. The apartment is eerily quiet and Eddie wonders if Buck wasn’t home. “Buck, Hey Buck me and Chris are here to hang out.” He looks around the apartment for any signs of his best friend.

“Daddy look.” Chris points up to the loft to the mass on the bed.

Eddie smiles proudly at his kid. “Good job mijo. Go sit in the living room while I go rouse Buck.”

“Can I watch tv?”

“Sure kid.”

Eddie sets Chris up in the living room before heading up to Buck. The bedroom is a bit messy, loose clothes strung everywhere. The blinds are closed and all the lights are off. Any evidence Buck is here is the gigantic mass on the bed. Eddie frowns in worry, before getting to work. He opens up all the blinds and repeatedly pulled the covers off of Buck to force him to get up.

“Dude I have nothing to do today.”

“Nope, you're taking me and Chris, more importantly Chris, somewhere today. Heads up, he’s vetoed the park and laser tag and he’s downstairs. Get changed and start thinking of places to go. I’ll make you something to eat.”

Buck looks at him incredulously. “Eddie, you can’t cook.”

“Yea it’ll probably be toast or a peanut butter and jelly sandwich, but food is food and you need to eat.”

Eddie watches Buck calmly. Anger, confusion, acceptance and happiness flit across his face. He gives Eddie a smile before turning around. “Okay Eddie. Anything for my favorite Diaz.”

Eddie knows he means Chris, he still leaves the loft with a small smile.

---

The Diaz’s make Buck a peanut butter and jelly sandwich with some strawberries Eddie found in Buck’s fridge. Buck’s in a white shirt and a plain pink button up. His hair is slightly gelled up and any trace of sadness was gone from his eyes. Happily he let Chris pull him to the kitchen table. “Wow this all looks so good buddy, did you make it?”

Chris beamed. “No Dad helped a bit.”

“You coulda convinced me otherwise.”

Chris giggled as Eddie rolled his eyes, “I cut up the strawberries.” Buck made a small noise of understanding before starting to eat. Chris quietly colored beside him. Occasionally he stole Buck’s strawberries. If Buck cared he didn’t comment on it.

“So have you picked where we’re going Buck?” Eddie asked.

“Yes actually, May’s been talking about visiting the Pier with her friends and I figured if it was good enough for her, it’s good enough for us right? You wanna go to the pier buddy?”

“What’s on the pier?”

Buck’s face lit up in a blinding smile. Quickly he starts listing off all the unhealthy snacks sold at the pier. Eddie shakes his head and mock glares at Buck, but he only gets a cheeky grin in response.

“You’re going to give him such a sugar high. Ugh, if you want to do this you have to put him to bed tonight.”

“You’re going to stay with us for the whole day?!” Chris smile could put the sun to shame. He looked eagerly between his father and his Buck.

“Sure Buddy if that’s what you want.” Chris nodded his head so fast he looked like a bobble head.

Buck chuckled, “Okay buddy, I’ll hop you up on sugar then have the pleasure of tucking you in.” Buck sent Eddie a teasing smile, only to receive an eye roll in response.

Once Buck finishes his food, the boys head for Buck’s jeep. They could’ve ridden in Eddie’s truck, but Buck likes driving more than Eddie. Chris’s car seat is transferred to the back of Buck’s jeep and they all pile in. Some top 40s song blares from the radio as they head to their destination.

The wind feels nice in Eddie’s hair. He stares out the window as he listens to Chris and Buck have an animated conversation. Eddie doesn’t really pay attention to it, but it still sounds nice, his son and best friend being happy.

“Will you ride with us Eddie?”

“Hmm?”

“The bumper cars? Do you want to ride on the bumper cars with us?”

“Oh why not. You sure though, I’ll kick your butt.”

Buck squacks offendedly. “As if, I’m a pro at bumper cars Diaz. In fact I should be asking if you’re okay going against me.” Buck flashes him a cocky smile and Eddie gives him a deadpan stare. He’s impossible yet so endearing. Eddie can’t bring himself to hate it, any of it for a second.

----

Going to the pier, Eddie will admit, was a very good choice. The smell of fried food and the noise of the amusement park rides was relaxing. It felt like being back at the state fairs in Texas. Buck and Chris dragged him along to every ride and Eddie went willingly. He doesn’t remember the last time he had so much fun.

Eventually they tired down. Eddie was sitting on a bench next to Buck with a frankly gigantic brown bear on his lap. Chris is watching the surfers surf the waves down below with Buck holding onto his shirt. Eddie let himself relax after spending a whole day running after a child and a golden retriever. When Chris comforted Buck, Eddie snuck a photo of the moment. Buck was smiling sadly up at Chris while Chris held Buck’s chin in his hand. It was so sweet Eddie could’ve gotten a toothache.

He went about saving the photo when Chris started talking again. “Where did all the water go?”

---

So there was a Tsunami in California, and Eddie was in the middle of it. He really can’t have nice things. Immediately Buck grabbed Chris and together they started running off the pier. Man can’t outrun nature though and they were barely halfway across the pier when they got swept away.

---

Buck tightened his hold on Chris as he felt the water slap them around. As much as he wanted to keep Chris with him, he wasn’t stronger than the water. Eventually Buck felt Chris get torn away from him. Debris the tsunami picked up hurtled toward him. He could feel little nicks appear on his arms and legs.

When he finally broke through the surface, he spotted Chris clinging to a pole twenty feet in front of him. Carefully he angled his body so the water would take him to Chris. When he got close enough he leaped and wrapped his arms around Chris. With the same intensity, Chris clung to Buck tightly. It was nice to have proof that Chris was safe. After hearing the little guy cry out for him and Eddie, he wasn’t letting Chris go anytime soon.

For a while the duo was at the mercy of the water, but when Buck spotted a half submerged fire truck, he used his reserved energy to swim towards it. Once there, he lifted Chris onto it and then lifted himself onto it. The whole act hurt his leg, but Buck didn’t voice his pain. Quietly he breathed a sigh of relief. The open air stung his fresh cuts and his soaked clothes clung to him uncomfortably. Chris climbed into his lap and rested his head on Buck’s chest.

“Bucky, where’s my dad?”

Buck sighed, not wanted or knowing how to answer this question. “It appears that we got separated when the wave hit, but that can’t be permanent right buddy? When the water recedes we’ll go search for him okay?” Silently Chris nodded. Buck carded his hand through his curls and let his head gently hit against the truck. He breathed deeply once before getting into action.

“Hey superman, can I give you a quick check-up? I wanna make sure you aren’t too injured.” Chris nodded and Buck went about a modified version of the paramedic check up. (He’s been around Hen and Chimney to know it by heart. He also is a certified EMT.)

“You’re all healthy, kid, just a few cuts but that’s okay. Pretty amazing, I need to know your secrets.” Buck poked Chris’s cheek to make him giggle. He succeeded.

“I had you. You saved me.”

---

Somewhere along the way Eddie got separated. In the water he tried to reach for Chris or Buck, but his hand kept getting smacked by debriefs. He did it enough times that he was sure his wrist was sprained.

When he finally broke free from the waves he couldn’t tell where he was. There were string lights hanging above him and a row of nondescript red buildings. Eddie let himself be dragged along with the waves while he thought of something to do. Buck and Chris weren’t beside him, making him officially alone. He hoped they were still together, the thought of all three of them trying to survive this on their own was enough to puke.

He clutched onto his St. Christopher’s medal as he searched for someplace to grab onto. There were inflatable toys, scraps of metal, and spare tires; but nothing safe to actually hold onto. Eddie tries to groan in frustration, but he ends up swallowing a mouthful of water instead.

After another half-hour he finally sees an awning of a restaurant. He makes his way over and lies down on the awning. He breathes in deeply and lets out a slow breath. He’s safe. He’s safe and alive and all alone. Dread tries to settle in his stomach at the thought of his son. He knows he can’t think like this, but god it’s so easy too. He can only hope that Buck is with Chris, Buck will keep Chris safe.

---

When the water finally recedes, Buck climbs down the truck. The nice lady, Mrs. Violet, hands Buck Chris before climbing down herself. “Stay safe you two. Good bye.” Chris waves goodbye and Buck gives her a megawatt smile. She’s nice company while they were stuck on the truck. Buck hopes they find their husband. He waits to make sure everyone else gets down safely too.

The winds from earlier have died down. The warmth from the midday sun beaming down on him feels nice. His clothes have dried into uncomfortable messes, but it’s fine. He gave his pink button to use a tourniquet for a man with a bloody arm.

Chris tightens his hold on Buck, shifts around to get comfortable, then goes lax in his arms. “You don’t want to be let down buddy?” Chris shakes his head. Buck hmmed in acquiescence .

As an eight year old, Chris is hesitant to let people hold him. He says he’s too old for it now. The first time it happened Eddie called Buck to drink with him. Buck agreed and listened as Eddie complained at how big his kid was getting. The fact that Chris was willing to be held right now meant that he was more scared than he appeared. It made Buck worry and want Eddie. He shouldn’t be here, Eddie needs to be here to console his kid.

Buck hiked up Chris further up his hip then started walking. He didn’t know which way he should go, just hoped wherever he went would lead him to Eddie.

---

Eddie fell asleep. He fell asleep on top of the awning waiting for something to happen. It wasn’t a great sleep, he kept seeing Christopher get torn away from him. Eddie shocked himself awake and took stock of his surroundings. The water was gone, leaving in its wake the debris it swept away. Also dead bodies. If Eddie had anything to puke up he’d be hurling.

Okay, okay, you can’t stay here. You gotta go find your kid. How… Eddie thought. Call someone? Call Buck! Or Bobby or Carla! Hope invigorated him to pull his phone out despite the fact that his wrist was definitely broken. Hope left him when he saw his completely waterlogged phone. Okay Plan A was bust on to Plan B… whatever that was.

The awning was connected to a pole that he could climb down. Best way to find his kid and his best friend was to look for them. Slowly he made his way to an edge of an awning. Then he edged himself off the edge slowly and feet first. Eddie wrapped his feet around the pole and shimmied down.

There were a few stranglers around him, similarly confused and lost. He tried asking them if they’d seen his lost kid or best friend. Unhelpfully they shook their heads no. Eddie sighed and continued walking.

----

Buck’s arms were on fire. His leg was also on fire. He’s pretty sure he was also bleeding something… not good. Holding Chris and walking around for hours in the hot sun hadn’t been kind to him. Buck was still searching for Eddie or a hospital. Finding Eddie was better than finding a hospital, but at this point he’d take either.

Technically he had found two hospitals already, but they were filled to the brink. The wait was astronomical and there was no place to sit. And there was no Eddie. He let a nurse check Chris out and give them some supplies, water and granola bars, before heading out. In hindsight he should’ve also asked for a phone to call someone but he forgot.

Chris had long since passed out in his arms. The kid's soft breaths on his necks was very reassuring. It was part of the reason Buck didn’t want to let him down. Another reason was because he wanted to physically pass Chris off to Eddie. Who is fine. He’s healthy and fit and able to carry his kid when Buck finds him. ‘Cause he will find him, Buck can’t not find him.

Chris shifting in his arm brought Buck back to the present. “Bucky? Bucky, I'm tired.”

“I know superman, you’re okay. I heard there's a new hospital a few blocks from here. They’ll be able to help us.”

“Okay Bucky. Can I have ice cream when we get there?”

“We deserve it don’t we? Still need to ask your dad though buddy.”

“Why? He’s not the boss of you?”

“This is a trick.”

---

After searching for Buck and Chris for five hours (and getting nowhere his evil mind adds) he’s starting to lose hope he can find them on his own. No one has seen a tall man in a pink button up nor a little boy in a yellow striped shirt. Eddie’s poor heart doesn’t know whether or not to implode at that. By now the sun has started setting. The winds aren’t as refreshing as they once were.

As he made his way down another debris filled street, two first responders found him. Eddie resists their attempts at checking him over for any injuries at first. He needs to find his partner and his kid, but he’s also tired. The first responders seem to pick up on this. They promise him that they’ll help him find his kid and partner if he just cooperates. This is how they cajoole him into going to a hospital. With promises of phone calls to his kid and a message passed around to the other first responders that Firefighter Eddie Diaz of the 118 is looking for his partner Evan Buckley and his son Chris Diaz.

This satisfies Eddie a great deal and he then becomes a much better patient. (He’s still grumpy and aloof, but now he’s tolerant). He’s almost fine, acquired a cut on his right arm, broke his left wrist, is dehydrated and exhausted. One of the first responders tosses him a bottle of water on the way to their destination. Eddie finds out when they arrive that it’s a VA hospital set up specifically as a halfway point for the sick and wounded.

The first responders usher him in through the door and into the hands of a nurse. They describe his injuries, and tell her about his missing family. He’d correct them but the statement doesn’t feel wrong anyways. The nurse takes him to a free cot before giving him a check up too.

The first responders hit the nail on the head with his list of injuries. Since it’s not severe he doesn’t need to be transported to the hospital right away, although it is recommended. She leaves to go get him pain meds and once again, Eddie is alone. The people in the cots beside him don’t count. Hell one’s unconscious and the other one is having an intimate looking conversion with a loved one. There are tears, Eddie looks away.

To keep himself busy Eddie makes a to do list of what he needs to do next. Find Christopher. Give him a big hug. Give Buck a big hug. Sleep. Tell people he’s okay. Buy a new phone. Buy ice cream. The last one isn’t technically an emergency but forgive him he’s in pain.

The nurse comes back with a wrap for his wrist and disinfectant and band aids. He finishes his water while she works. The nurse tells him he’s lucky his wound isn’t infected. Eddie nods, mind focused on something else.

“This is awkward, but my phone got damaged in the tsunami and I need to tell some people I’m okay. Is it alright if I borrow your phone and make some calls?”

The nurse smiles and nodds. She gets out her iphone, unlocks it and gets out the phone app. Eddie takes it gingerly and thinks of who to call first. His parents? Ha. He could call his sisters, but if they don’t know then he didn’t want to worry them. He’d call Tia Pepa but she’s probably with Abuela already so calling Abuela’s home phone is the best bet.

She’s calm if not incredibly saddened when she picks up the phone. Abuela lets out a fast stream of spanish that’s said through tears once she realizes its him. He waits patiently for her to finish talking before reassuring her she’s fine. Eddie wants to tell her about Christopher, but he’s worried about Abuela having a heart attack so instead he promises to bring Chris over for lunch tomorrow. He then talks to Tia Pepa for a bit, but there’s not much new to say because Abuela had the phone call on speaker. She thanks god that he’s okay and that he better see her as soon as possible.

When they hang up he immediately calls Bobby. As he waits for him to pick up the phone he gives the nurse a sheepish smile and promises that this is the last call.

“Hello Bobby Nash, who is this?”

“Bobby? It’s Eddie, listen, my phone got damaged in the tsunami. Buck, Chris and I were at the pier and I can’t find them anymore Bobby.”

“Hey, hey, hey, Eddie, you need to breathe. Okay breathe.” Eddie rubs his hand over his eyes as he takes a deep breath.

“Okay Where are you right now.”

“The new VA hospital they set up.”

“Okay I know where that is. I’m going to send out a message to keep an eye out for Buck and Christopher. I’ll also ask Maddie to start calling the hospitals to see if they have Buck. We’re going to find them okay Eddie. Buck’s a fighter, we’re going to find him and Chris.”

“I know Cap it’s just-.”

“Hey Hey, this isn’t your fault, you can’t blame yourself for this. Stay there at the hospital so we know where to send Buck and Chris when we find them.”

“Yeah okay, okay, okay.”

“Okay, are you okay?”

“Umm yeah I’m fine, shallow cut and sprained wrist. I’m fine Cap, it's Buck and Chris.”

“I know that, but I worry about you too. I gotta go, they need me, but take care of yourself okay? Stay safe?”

“Yes sir.” Bobby hung up and Eddie gave the nurse back her phone.

The nurse left almost immediately to tend to other patients. Eddie took a deep breath before taking the next step. He knew someone had to have a list of patients at this hospital somewhere, he just had to figure out who. Eddie got up from his cot to start looking around.

The first few people were a bust. Lady #1 was actually a nurse who just finished tending to a patient. Man #2 was actually an off duty first responder helping out. Lady and Man #3 and #4 were family of some of the victims of the tsumai. Eddie was starting to get frustrated. He needed to find his son and partner quickly. The longer they were out there the more Eddie’s insides turned into knots.

He walked forward towards the entrance and saw a woman with a clipboard. “Hello ma’am is that a list of patients for the VA hospital?”

The woman turned toward him and smiled politely. “Yes it is. Who are you looking for?”

“My son Christopher Diaz. He’s 8 years old and about 4 feet 5 inches tall. He was wearing a yellow striped shirt and khakis. I’m also looking for my partner Evan Buckley. Late twenties 6’2’’ wearing a pink button up, white shirt and some jeans. He has an identifiable birth mark on his right eyebrow that could be mistaken for a burn scar.”

The lady pursed her lips as she scanned through the papers. Eddie tried not to loom or tap his foot as he waited. When her face fell and she frowned he tried not to cry or get violent. “No, I’m sorry sir, I don’t have anyone like that listed here. They could be at another hospital, or,” the lady pointed to a nearby tent, “they could be there.”

Eddie followed his gaze to the place she was pointing at. “The, the-” black trash bags were piled in front of a stark white tent. That could mean it was only one type of place.

“I’m so sorry sir, if your family is actually there.” Eddie barely nodded at her, listlessly making his way over to the tent. Part of him wanted to believe that Buck and Christopher was at another hospital, but if they were, wouldn’t they have been found by someone. Wouldn’t Eddie have tangible proof that they were alive? Tears started streaming down Eddie’s face. His knees started to wobble as he started scanning through the list of the deceased kept just outside the doors of the tent.

---

“Eddie! Has anyone seen an Eddie Diaz?!” A loud voice echoed in the background. Eddie frowned. It sounded a lot like Buck, but he- the lady said he was-

“My name is Evan Buckley, have you seen Edmundo Diaz?” The voice was slightly softer this time. Eddie turned around and almost fell to his knees. There, bathed in the LED lights was his best friend clutching his child in his arms. Eddie sobbed and started running to them.

“Buck! Buck!”

“Eddie?” Buck wanted to run to Eddie, but walking was hard enough. He stayed where he was and let Eddie run into him. It didn’t take long. Buck quickly felt Eddie wrap his arms around both him and Christopher.

It was then in his best friend's arms that Buck finally let the weight of the day catch up to him. His knees buckled and he went boneless in Eddie’s arms. Said man took it like a champ, first he made sure he had a secure hold on Chris, then he let himself sink to the ground with Buck. The younger man rested his back on Eddie’s chest and relaxed. The uncomfortable, burning pressure on his legs and arms was finally eased. Buck made a happy little sigh and burrowed further into Eddie, just as Chris was doing in his sleep. Maybe he should’ve been embarrassed by it but he just spent over five hours slowly losing hope that he would ever find Eddie alive. It would take the fear of God to separate them.

Eddie seemed to have the same idea. The arm that wasn’t around Christopher tightened around Buck’s waist. The younger man could hear his partner murmur prayers in what he thought was spanish. Tears, of what Buck hoped was relief fell from Eddie’s face onto Buck’s shoulder.

“Oh god, oh my god, I thought- I-” Eddie rambled, finding his voice again.

“Hey, hey hey, I’m fine. Me and Chris are all right.”

Eddie made a disbelieving noise. “Okay my leg hurts like a bitch and I probably have one too many cuts, but it’s nothing life threatening.”

“You wouldn’t lie to me?”

“Not after the day I’ve had.”

“In a minute we should get you checked out.”

“Aww you can’t do it for me?” Buck shifted his head slightly to bat his eyes at Eddie.

“No, an unbiased professional should handle you,” Eddie whispered hoping the night sky would hide his blush. Buck nodded and listened to Eddie breathing.

“We’re okay, we’re okay, we’re okay,” Buck whispered, like a mantra. He brought Eddie’s hand up to rest above his heart so Eddie could feel his heart beat. “We’re okay, we’re okay, we’re okay,” Even though Buck actually did need medical help, the trio stayed like that a little while longer, basking in the fact that all three of them were lucky enough to make it out alive and to return to each other.

#buddie #evan buckley #eddie diaz #christopher diaz #911 #911 fox #we're all fic writers here #ella's 911 fox fics

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noire-pandora · 3 years ago

Text

About me

I’ve been tagged @kunstpause @dismalzelenka @queen-kass-the-writer @curiousthimble @morganlefaye79 @barbex thank you for the tag, you’re always so nice with me!

1: Why did you choose your url?

Noire comes from a character I used to love as a teenager from an anime that made me cry like an idiot in front of my PC (once, I cried so hard, i got a nosebleed. What can I say, I’m a cry baby). The name of that character is Gauche Suede (from Tagami Bachi) that, after becomes the “villain”, he goes by the name “Noir”. I just added the “e” because “Noir” is the masculine French for the colour black (i hope I’m remembering that right) so the “e” made it feminine. Look, I used to love and study the French language when I made this Tumblr, I had to respect the grammar rules xD.

Pandora comes from Pandora’s box because I consider Tumblr to be a freaking Pandora box. So Noire-Pandora= My Pandora’s box. (Yeah, I was 15 when I made this. So edgy, right?)

2: Any side blogs? if you have them, name them and why you have them.

I have....too many of them.

- noirepersonal is my personal Tumblr where i can reblog all the memes I want without spamming the people following me for Dragon Age.

- twcgreen is my Wayhaven Chronicles one but I don’t use it anymore because I’ve noticed the fandom is kinda shitty, to put it mildly. (not everyone, ofc, but the people who stirred up shit in the DA fandom are very vocal in there and I’d rather not deal with them. I’ll yell my love on the TWC discord servers)

- ina-shep is my Mass Effect one because I had the pressing need to reblog Mass Effect art.

3: How long have you been on tumblr?

2010.....10 years...no wait....this month marks the 11th year. Since I was 15 years old. Wow, I really haven’t changed that much huh.....

4: Do you have a queue tag?

No. In 11 years, I haven’t got the hang of the queue option. I just log in, reblog everything and log out.😂

5: Why did you start your blog in the first place?

Because I was curious to see what was this Tumblr place everyone spoke about on Yahoo Messenger. xD

6: Why did you choose your icon/pfp?

That's my lovely Elluin made by Tobio Fish on Twitter. I choose her because I'm obsessed with her.

7: Why did you choose your header?

Because I think the dragon age games are neat.

8: What’s your post with the most notes?

This one.....

I made it when I was 15 years old and it's still me. I'm a douchbag friend.

9: How many mutuals do you have?

I don't know how to check that.

10: How many followers do you have?

Before you say something, I want you to remember I had this Tumblr for 11 years and I've been in too many fandoms. And yes, I was this loud in every single one of them. Anyway 3582 but I'm sure only 20 people reblog my stuff.

11: How many people do you follow?

1241 tumblrs. I need to do a following clean up soon.

12: Have you ever made a shitpost?

Nah, I'm not funny enough for that.

13: How often do you use tumblr each day?

I used to spend too many hours on this site. Since I've started writing, not so many.

14: Did you ever have a fight/argument with another blog once? who won?

Nah, fuck that. I won't fight people here. I've deleted every shitty anon message and blocked every person that tried to start shit with me. I refused to answer to any vague posts made towards me. I don't have the patience and the brain cells to fight.

15: How do you feel about “you need to reblog this” posts?

No one can make me reblog stuff I don't want to reblog. This is my Pandora box and I will do whatever I want with it.

16: Do you like tag games?

Yes, I love them! Please tag me in stuff.

17: Do you like ask games?

Oh yeah, especially when I can yell about my OCs.

18.Do you have a crush on a mutual?

Platonic crushes? Heck yeah. Y'all are too awesome not to like. Romantic ones? Nope.

Tagging: @emerald-amidst-gold @oxygenforthewicked @cleverblackcat @ma-serannas-vhenan @little-lightning-lavellan

@musetta3 @roguelioness @dreadfutures @fandomn00blr @dragonswithjetpacks @sidhelives @potatowitch @best-of-the-vein

No pressure at all. Let me know if you don't want to be tagged anymore or of you want to be tagged more!

#about me #noire's useless rant

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secret-engima · 4 years ago

Note

Here's something that might come outta left field, what fics do you recommend in the FFXV fandom?

Oooooo okay hmmm. Lemme see what I have. I warn you now that most of these are either short, time-travel, or Prompto angst, but I’ll try to add a little summary to each so you can pick what interests you:

https://archiveofourown.org/works/27588704 “Toward Daylight We Run” by SparkleMoose (here on Tumblr as @sparklecryptid) is a time-travel fixit involving Titus, who wakes up post being killed by Nyx with a case of confusion, anger, and le self-doubt, and a Glaive OC who died during the betrayal and who is very understandably angry at them. It’s gonna be a former-enemies-to-lovers thing eventually I think, and tho there’s only two chaps so far I recommend it (I recommend several of Moose’s actually, just watch the tags if you’re not into M-rated or have trigger warnings to look out for) This one does have trigger warning tags for suicidal thoughts and PTSD, so watch out for that.

https://archiveofourown.org/works/27912505/chapters/68351254 “From Neath Dark Waters”, another one by SparkleMoose! This one is an FFXIV Warrior of Light reborn as a street rat in Insomnia and adopted by Clarus, again, just getting started, but very feelsy and I love it. Moose also has cool Galahdian worldbuilding stuff which is always fun.

https://archiveofourown.org/works/23888788 “the Wound (A Place Where Light Enters)” Third one by SparkleMoose, featuring time-traveling Noctis and also a sort of time-traveling Warrior of Light named Azura who looks around, spots Noctis fighting someone and goes “welp time to go break someone’s face on behalf of a friend I guess” which is a great first impulse for a White Mage imho. These two are gonna be a ship and I love it.

(honestly just go poke through SparkleMoose’s stuff on Ao3 and here on Tumblr, there’s quite a few FFXV fics and there’s bound to be at least a few you like. :D Just remember to read the tags first)

https://archiveofourown.org/works/26644129 “The Great Livestream Debacle” by Choke-a-bro. This is just humor/crack oneshot but it makes me laugh on days that need a pick me up. Basically, Noctis runs a tiny twitch channel playing really old RPGs without telling Ignis or Regis and ONE DAY a stray new viewer happens to realize, “huh, this guy looks like the prince” and it spiral wonderfully from there.

https://archiveofourown.org/works/27468421 “A Present for a Father” by illusorygardens. This is actually a little gift oneshot thing inspired by one of my AUs here on Tumblr (Clouds and Moonlit Skies) where a bunch of FFVII characters are reborn as various OCs and canon characters in FFXV. Zack is Noctis, Cloud is Prompto, Aerith is Luna, Titus is Sephiroth, and Rufus and Yuffie are reborn as Imperial Royal Twins with the world’s most terrible dad aka Emperor Aldercapt. So naturally Noctis has to prank the Emperor of Niflheim on their behalf.

https://archiveofourown.org/works/26667253/chapters/65038747 “Light in the Night Sky” by mokulule. If you’ve read my Deleantur and liked it, then absolutely 1000% give this a try. It’s inspired by Deleantur verse in the sense of “Noctis goes back to the time of Somnus and Ardyn” but it’s cheerfully wandering off in a very different direction and there is WORLDBUILDING and BACKSTORY and Ardyn and Aera being ADORABLE. Seriously it’s great. Again, it’s only got a few chaps on it, but I love it already and highly recommend.

https://archiveofourown.org/works/27611195/chapters/67550303 “Holding Secrets Like a Crystal” by LadyHallen. An AU where Monica Elshett is a telepath and proceeds to unknowingly wreck canon in all the best ways. It’s a 5 chap short story and I love it.

https://archiveofourown.org/works/18114572/chapters/42823973 “First Lightning, Then Thunder” by Nervous Otaku. This is a RAVUS time-travel fixit, 87 chaps long (tho the chaps are short) and fully completed. Basically Ravus dies, the Astrals think “Free Real Estate” and proceed to dump him into the past in the body of a Coeurl. It’s angst and shenanigans and Ravus stubbornly refusing to admit that he is growing attached to these tiny child versions of people all while going through hell and high water to protect them from destiny. It’s a happy ending too!

https://archiveofourown.org/works/21681499/chapters/51709084 “Victorious” by Kyirah. This one hasn’t updated in a while? But it’s got 14 stellar chapters of Noctis being gently plopped back into his child self with only vague memories of the future while the Lucii and the Astrals set about fixiting the world on his behalf. It also features adorable, slightly daemon-but-don’t-worry-he’s-fine Prompto and Dadcor. Also ghost Ardyn.

https://archiveofourown.org/works/18116312/chapters/42828299 “cyan boys” by dreamtowns. 6 chap, slightly cracky time-travel, only instead of straight time-travel, Noctis and Prompto wake up in a parallel dimension where some stuff is ... different. Such as them being kids while Gladio and Ignis of that world are already adults. It’s just a nice, quirky, kinda angsty-in-places read and I really enjoyed it (despite the undertones of slash that crop up in some places but hey maybe that’s your cup of tea) but as always read the tags and decide for thineself.

https://archiveofourown.org/works/15073931/chapters/34948019 “Nocturne” by nirejseki. The Taur AU that inspired Nox Taur, 11/10 do recommend (even though there are slash and femslash ships in there later on but HEY just because I skipped over those parts doesn’t mean this fic isn’t great). Features baby Noctis being adorable, some cool world-building, Regis being a Good Dad, DadCor, and just- a great fixit all around with some amazing AU take on the Astrals and the prophecy and all that stuff.

https://archiveofourown.org/works/11648547/chapters/26204799 “Introductions” by doodly_squat. This is ... essentially a canon compliant look at Prompto first introducing himself to and getting to be friends with Noctis. Picks up that moment in the Brotherhood episode where he says hi on the first day of high school. It’s short, but it’s finished and it’s great, there’s some Prompto angst, and it has a sequel with even more Prompto angst! That is also finished!

https://archiveofourown.org/works/10869282/chapters/24144864 “Running Behind” by Asidian. An MT!Prompto AU where Prompto is raised as an MT (which are cyborgs here rather than canon’s ... whole thing) and then runs away when he learns he’s going to be decommissioned. He’s found a year-ish later by the other Chocobros on their roadtrip and they, unaware he’s a runaway MT, take him along because he clearly needs help. There’s feels and bonding and brotherly feels and also angst and drama because MT!Prompto is terrified of many things. There’s also descriptions of the aftermath of torture, which I didn’t find too bad but as always check the tags and the rating against your own comfort level. It has a happy ending tho.

https://archiveofourown.org/works/11725950/chapters/26417871 “Poor Wayfaring Stranger” by lithos_saeculum. The last fic I’m gonna rec for now and just- I CANNOT rec this one enough. I love it so much. 59 chap, ongoing MT!Prompto AU where Cor finds this teenage MT unit and takes him home. There’s DadCor and Prompto learning how to People and the Chocobros getting attached and major angst at various stages because of how Prompto is treated (he has MT modifications and some people looking at you Clarus need to take a chill pill about it). It’s told entirely from Prompto’s POV which is FASCINATING and the author does a stellar job of picking out stuff that Prompto just- wouldn’t know about or understand because he’s been raised in a lab all his life.

#SE asks #anon asks #ffxv #ffxv fics #fic recs #fic rec #always read the tags people #what is fine for me might not for you #but i do rec these

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cheemken · 3 years ago

Note

Hello! I'm sorry for bothering, but is it okay to ask for your side on your and Pandora's love story? You guys are so sweet! I wish the best for you guys!

Well hello to you too hahah

And my side, ghm? Well,,, it's gonna be a trip since I just woke up and I'm doing this all in one go so I hope it makes sense at the end hahahah

Anyways owo

Twas a fine, lovely afternoon—

No really, it was. Like... I was scrolling through the comments of my old fics and I saw,, Bella commented hahah

And I was all "oh cool :3"

Then a lil skip and I saw her, pandora-dusk, commenting on the post I have of the fic and I was all "huh.. is this the same person??" I thought it was, she's all "I found it!" Or smth, and hey said the fic was dope and I was all "omf is this secretly a famous person—"

So I checked her blog, and I was all, "yeah okay I feel this person is famous so why is she talking to me cjskcbskdn"

But like,, yeah,, twas dope hahah

And we only get to talk in the replies because I refuse to talk to someone famous cause I'd embarrass myself owo

But then, in one of our chats in the notes and such, she mentioned how she draws and such and I was all "NFKSNDKSN YOU DRAW :D" and hey, I told her that people would absolutely love her art and such and yeah, surprise surprise, she posted her drawings and I was all ":0!!!! YO DAS SO COOL!" And then I remember reblogging it and had some on my save tag hahaha

It's so dope hahah

But y'know what happened next? The lil shit Tumblrbot messaged me and I low-key panicked cause "omf did I do smth wrong am I getting kicked out of Tumblr???" You can tell my mind was racing, but when I saw their message and they just "hey, you liked pandora-dusk's post, you should try talking to her owo" and I was all "hahah w h a t—"

Legit it took me a while to actually try to message her cause I was just "hhhHhnnn okay but what if she's busy and she finds it annoying omfs cjsmxjsm"

But hey I just up and "fuck it, if I managed to message Dee despite them being famous too, why not her?" So I sucked it up and yeah, messaged her hahaha

If you saw Pan's post, then yeah, you'd see how it went down

Anyways yeah, after that, we didn't talk much and every time I check my notifs, my thumb just hovers over her icon cause I still wanna talk to her and such, but I feel like I'm annoying her, so I just wait for replies and such hahah

Tis sad, but hey

Then that thing with Jane Angst™ happened, and good lord the reblogs jcsmjdks hahahaha

It escalated to the point we made the Knight and the Princess and we finally took it to the DM's cause hah, the reblogs were getting long hahah

AND OH MY GOD

Okay so we made progress with the lil story of the Knight and Princess, yeah? I fucking shit you not, I did not sleep because of that hahahah

I think yesterday, yeah, we were talking about this ask and it went to that thing of us with the Princess and Knight, and I told her that I didn't sleep for her just to try to finish that, that's how special she was and I didn't even know her yet–

But hey yeah, another mini skip

Then more shit happened to me, I didn't sleep and twas already two, and then.. she messaged me hahah

And then told me so many things and I discovered more about her too

And I could feel myself falling for her

Do you know how scary that was hahaha

She's so amazing.. no chance, yeah? I convinced myself that there's no chance. As if we'd meet. As it she'd like me. No one likes me like that irl, so why would she like me? She doesn't even know me.

But,,, ehhh,,, idk man. Couldn't stop myself hahah

She's just so nice and so dope and so understanding. She's so caring, so talented, and just.. she's amazing in general. And that scared me so much hahaha

Cause I'm nothing owo

I always like people with no chance of liking me back and I've been hurt so much hahah

But did I continue liking her anyways? Yep.

It didn't help that after drawing human Tumblrbot, Al— well,, star anon during that time, sent asks how Pan and I are kinda T's parents and oh my god I was all "that's so fucking adorable but hhHhhH is she comfortable with this cjskjdk" then I saw her actually draw shit for T too and I was just ":'0!!" And yeah, I started falling more and more hahah

Everyday I couldn't stop thinking about her, but I keep telling myself to just forget her cause "there's no chance. No one likes you irl, why expect she'd like you? Once she sees what you look like, she's gonna be disgusted. Disgusted probably like everyone else." And that broke me.. cause hah.. I really did like her, but yeah, we don't talk much so I just "ehh.. sure.."

But did I really stop? Nah.

Look I fell hard jcksjxksns

And hey I kept gushing about her to the GC and to my best friend hahaha

Dee actually thought Pan and I were dating and I was all "hah, I wish—"

And then my best friend was all "omf you have a gf na without telling me—" but hey I told her we weren't together and she was all "WHAT??? BUT?? YOU TWO ARE SO SWEET???"

And yeah hahaha

Another timeskip

Like,, Halloween?? Yeah hahah

Halloween onwards

We started talking more and more and oh my god I fell h a r d

I get to know more about her and the more she shared the more I fell and like,,, the more I see her as herself hahah

And god, she's so amazing

She might not believe it, but she is

And everyday I keep telling her how she's so great, basically, I was trying to flirt with her hahahahah

Cause like,, there might be a small ass chance yeah? Yeah hahah

And hey,, we talked and such, and,, hahah it seems like we were together but not. I told her that when we finally meet, I'm taking her out on a date hahah

And yeaahhhhh,,,

Another mini skip, now it's November, and hah, the eleventh came and on the twelfth, we had like this swab test and such and I was scared af and I just "hhhnnn might as well"

So take note, in my part it's like?? What?? Twelve? Eleven going on twelve am

But in hers it's the afternoon still

DO YOU KNOW HOW COLD MY HANDS WERE

So yeah, I confessed to her hahah

AND YO

SHE ACTUALLY??? LIKES ME BACK????

GODDAMN JCSKJXKSNXKSNS

And yeah owo

I messaged my bestfriend first about it cause she was still online and yeah we celebrated hahahaha

But yeah, then we talked more, we saw what each other looked like (y'all she's so fucking pretty cjskjdks like goddamn) and surprisingly, she doesn't think I look like shit, then we called, and hcksjdksjs

It was just so great hahaha

And hey, yeah, we got to know more about each other and boom, we be here now owo

I hope that suffices cause my memory be shit and I probably missed a few but hey hahah

#ah aint this a trip ncksndk #but yeah #shit often blocks the way sometimes but hey #pan and i always help each other out hahah #and yeah #i try to be better and such for her ówò #cause like.. im not really that great but for her im gonna try to be better and such hahah #bc i love her so much uwu #hahaha #an ask and an answer #anon

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rhosyn-du · 3 years ago

Text

Never make a mess when a total catastrophe will do - Chapter Five

Pairings: Jimon, past Clace, background Clizzy, a bunch of other minor background pairings Rating: Explicit Art: @cor321 Beta: @all-thestories-aretrue Tags: Alternate Universe - College/University, fake dating, oh my god they were roommates, friends with benefits, idiots to lovers, pining, miscommunication, holidays, drinking games, mistletoe, symbolically significant Oreos, domestic fluff, brief mention of past character death, Jace’s self-worth issues deserve their own tag Summary: What do you do when you find out your sister is not only dating your ex and love-of-your-high-school-life but is also bringing her home for Christmas? Bring your annoying, hot, annoyingly-hot roommate as your fake boyfriend to show them you're totally fine with it, obviously! There's no possible way this could backfire. Link: AO3 , Tumblr Master Post

Chapter Five

Jace worried that things would be weird when they got back home. He and Simon hadn’t spoken since New Year’s. He’d thought about texting, had in fact written and deleted at least a dozen texts over the next three days, but he never actually sent one. After all, Simon was the one who left without a word, and Jace wasn’t the kind of guy who chased after a hookup who wasn’t interested.

But when he finally got back to the apartment, it wasn’t weird at all.

He arrived home late afternoon the day before classes were due to start again to find Simon and Maia on the couch playing Overcooked. Simon glanced away from the game just long enough to tell Jace there was pizza in the kitchen if he wanted some, and that was it. The three of them spent the rest of the evening gaming, Simon acting like nothing at all had happened and Jace trying to convince himself that it didn’t bother him in the slightest. If Maia noticed anything, she didn’t let on.

The beginning of the new term was busy enough that they didn’t see each other much over the next few days, and Jace threw himself into his new classes with an enthusiasm he usually reserved for more hedonistic pursuits. Thursday night found him at his desk, deeply immersed in his world history reading. He was in the middle of a very dry passage on the Byzantine-Norman wars when he heard a light knock on his bedroom door.

“What is it?” he answered, not looking up from his book.

“Hey,” Simon said, opening the door. “I was just wondering what you were doing tonight.”

Jace looked up from his book only to have his brain come to a screeching halt. Simon was standing in his doorway, wearing nothing but a towel around his waist. A small towel. It was disturbingly reminiscent of that first week living together, when Jace had realized exactly how hot Simon was. Except now he knew what it felt like to touch Simon, to kiss him, knew how he liked to have his dick stroked and the noises he made when he came.

With great effort, Jace snapped his eyes up to Simon’s face. Simon, who was still talking like nothing at all was off about him just strolling into Jace’s bedroom mostly naked.

“Because I don’t have any plans, and I was thinking maybe you might want to do something. You know, if you’re free.”

There were many things Jace wanted to do, all of which involved divesting Simon of that towel.

“Were you planning to put pants on?” Jace was proud of how level he managed to keep his voice.

The look Simon gave him was somewhere between flirtatious and challenging. “Do you want me to?”

He didn’t. He really didn’t, but he also didn’t know what the hell was going on, and while Jace would never say he didn’t knowingly walk headlong into bad choices on a regular basis, he tried not to make the same mistake twice. Three times, tops.

“Simon,” Jace said levelly, “what are you doing?”

“Seducing you?” Simon seemed to deflate a little. “Or, you know, failing to seduce you, apparently.”

“Not exactly failing,” Jace admitted, standing to move closer to Simon, who gave him a tiny, hopeful smile. “But I thought you said this was a mistake.”

“Well, I’ve been thinking about it,” Simon said, “and maybe I was wrong.”

Hope rose like a cresting wave inside Jace’s chest, and he struggled to keep it from sweeping him away. “I had fun on New Year’s.”

“Me too,” Simon said, taking a tentative step closer. “Like, a lot. And I was thinking, you know, we’re obviously into each other, so maybe it wasn’t a mistake. Wouldn’t be a mistake.”

Jace found himself nodding. This could end in disaster, probably would end in disaster if his life thus far were any indication, but standing here with Simon so close, his smile so bright, Jace thought maybe it was worth the risk.

“I mean, as long as you’re not seeing anyone else,” Simon said quickly, and that rising swell of hope crashed like shattering glass. “Because I don’t really—”

“I get it,” Jace interrupted. He didn’t actually need a detailed explanation of why Simon was only interested in hooking up with him until someone better came along. It was all anyone ever wanted from him, and most of the time it was what he wanted, too. “We’re both hot and single, so as long as neither of us is seeing anyone, there’s no reason we can’t have fun together.”

Simon’s brows furrowed, and for a second Jace worried that he hadn’t managed to hide his disappointment, but then Simon was smiling at him again. “Yeah, of course. That’s exactly what I meant.”

“In that case,” Jace said, taking the last step that put him firmly inside Simon’s personal space, “my answer to your earlier question is no.” When Simon started to frown, he clarified, “I don’t want you to put your pants on.”

“Good,” Simon said, leaning in so that their lips just barely brushed as he spoke, “because I’d much rather take yours off.”

Their mouths met in a kiss that was surprisingly gentle, and Jace had to pull away after only a few seconds because of how much he wanted.

“Do you think we can make it to a bed this time?”

Simon glanced over at Jace’s bed, as though he were seriously contemplating the answer to that question. “I think we can probably manage.”

“Good,” Jace said, catching Simon’s gaze and holding it. “Because I really want to suck you, and you’re not going to be able to stay standing when I do.”

Simon kissed him, hard and fast. “If you keep talking like that, we definitely won’t make it to the bed.”

It took them far longer than it should have to make it across the room, mostly because Simon seemed intent on making sure Jace wasn’t wearing any more than he was by the time they got there, but Jace eventually felt the backs of his knees connect with the edge of the bed and pulled Simon with him as he tumbled into it. They landed in an awkward sprawl, half-laughing into the kiss they refused to break as Jace tugged at the towel that was somehow still knotted around Simon’s waist.

Simon made one of those soft, desperate noises that Jace was quickly becoming addicted to as the towel fell away, and Jace stroked a hand up Simon’s thigh, just high enough to tease. He left it there, unmoving, as he deepened their kiss, licking into Simon’s mouth with intent.

It didn’t take long until Simon’s hips were moving, trying to find friction for his rapidly hardening cock. It took only a few seconds longer for him to realize Jace was doing it on purpose.

“Should’ve known you’d be like this,” Simon said between kisses. “Just as much of a dick in bed as you are everywhere else.”

“Not much of an insult, considering that you like my dick,” Jace answered, finally moving his hand to trail lightly up the length of Simon’s cock, eliciting a shaky gasp. “Consider this payback for coming in here in nothing but a damn towel.”

“Oh, that’s how it’s going to be, huh?”

That was all the warning Jace got before he found himself on his back, hands pinned to the bed above his head, Simon straddling his thighs. He flexed his arms experimentally, determined he probably could get free with enough effort and also that he really didn’t want to.

He cocked an eyebrow at Simon. “What are you going to do with me now that you’ve got me?”

Simon swallowed hard. “So much,” he said seriously. “You said you want to suck me and that works out because I kind of really want your mouth, but first I’m going to show you what happens when you’re a tease.”

“You’re one to talk about teasing. Do you ever bother to take clothes into the bathroom with you when you shower?”

Anything else Jace might have said was lost in a startled gasp as Simon’s mouth closed over his left nipple, a swirl of tongue punctuated by a sharp nip of teeth. Simon repeated the treatment on the right, and it was enough for Jace’s hips to give a tiny, involuntary jerk. Against nothing at all, since Simon was sitting far enough back to keep him from getting any kind of friction.

Jace managed to bite back the frustrated whine that wanted to escape. He wouldn’t give Simon the satisfaction.

“I wasn’t sure you noticed,” Simon said, before returning his attention to Jace’s nipples, and it took Jace several seconds to remember what they were even talking about. When he finally did, he lost any hope he’d had of keeping quiet. Simon had thought about whether Jace was watching him, had maybe wanted Jace to watch him. And that was…that was a lot.

“Fuck,” Jace gasped. His hips were moving again, unable to keep still. “Fuck, Simon.”

“Hmm?” Simon asked innocently as he finally ceased his assault on Jace’s nipples. “Something I can do for you?”

“You could try not being such a—” His words were cut off, lost into the ether with any possibility of coherent thought as Simon’s teeth sank into the skin just beneath his clavicle, hard enough to leave behind a pleasant ache. He wondered if there would be any hint of a mark left by morning. He hoped there would be.

Jace let his head fall back against the bed, baring his neck in invitation. Simon’s hands weren’t pinning his to the bed anymore so much as holding them. Simon seemed happy to take him up on his invitation, worshiping Jace’s neck with tongue and teeth, and finally sucking a deliberate mark into his skin, just above his collarbone, where it wouldn’t be obvious unless he wanted it to be.

“Simon, please.”

“Please, what?” Simon asked, all amused faux-innocence. “I can’t give you what you want if you don’t tell me what it is.”

“Want you,” Jace growled, finally breaking free from Simon’s grip to tangle a hand in his hair and drag him into an impatient kiss. Simon kissed back, just as desperate, and made absolutely no protest when Jace pulled their hips together to finally get some friction. The kiss slowed, no less wanting, but a little less frantic as they rocked together.

“You have me,” Simon murmured against his mouth, and Jace shuddered with the weight of those words, with how much he wanted them to mean so much more than Simon intended them. But he did have Simon now, and he was going to make the most of it. Which reminded him that he’d gone into this with a plan.

Simon made a noise of protest when Jace pulled away but quieted immediately as Jace moved down his body, tongue following the line of dark hair that led from his chest down to his belly button. He got distracted there for a minute, tracing the lines of Simon’s abs with his tongue, reveling in the way the skin tensed and relaxed under his mouth.

“What did I tell you about teasing?” Simon asked, breathless.

“Don’t remember,” Jace lied, sliding down so that his breath ghosted over Simon’s cock, making his hips jerk. “But you seem pretty into it.”

He didn’t give Simon the chance to respond, sliding his mouth over Simon’s cock and taking him down to the hilt in one smooth motion, swallowing around the head. It was almost too much, too quick, and Jace had to fight back his gag reflex, but it was totally worth it for Simon’s broken-sounding, “Holy shit.”

Jace backed off, tonguing at Simon’s slit and sucking at the head of his dick before sliding back down, then repeating the pattern. It wasn’t the first time he’d deep-throated a guy, but it wasn’t something he had a ton of practice with either, much as he enjoyed it, and he knew better than to rush himself. It got easier every time he took Simon into the back of his throat, spurred on as he was by Simon’s near-incoherent stream of curses and praise. He lost himself in the sound of Simon’s voice, the weight of him on his tongue, the taste of him as he leaked steadily into his mouth.

After a few minutes, Jace realized that Simon was holding back, thighs trembling with the effort of keeping his hips still, one hand fisted in the sheets beside Jace’s head. Jace pulled off Simon’s cock with an audible ‘pop,’ and Simon’s whole body jerked.

Jace met his eyes. “You don’t have to be gentle with me.”

Simon opened his mouth, closed it again, stunned into silence for once.

To illustrate his point, Jace took Simon’s hand from where it was tangled in the sheets and placed it on his head. “I don’t want you to be gentle.”

“Not gentle,” Simon repeated, eyes dark and steady as his hand tightened in Jace’s hair. “I can do that.”

Jace lowered his head back to Simon’s dick, never breaking eye contact, letting the head just rest against his parted lips. Simon gave a shallow, experimental thrust, and Jace moaned around him, relaxing his throat so he could take him deeper. Simon thrust again, and Jace let his eyes flutter closed as Simon began to fuck his mouth in earnest.

“Fuck,” Simon panted. “Do you even know…know what you look like right now? Like, you’re always hot, but this is just…fuck. Wish you could see yourself. Wish I could have you like this all the time, except…except I’m definitely not going to last that long, and you’re just. Fuck, Jace, you’re perfect.”

Jace would have been embarrassed by the noise he made at Simon’s words, except that Simon seemed very into it, thrusts picking up speed as he continued in a broken voice, “Oh god, you— So good. I can’t— Shit. Your mouth—”

With a half-voiced gasp that might have been Jace’s name, Simon thrust deep one last time and came in hot spurts down Jace’s throat. Jace swallowed it all, dizzy from arousal and lack of air. He didn’t think he’d ever been this turned on in his life.

And then Simon was tugging Jace up by his hair, kissing him hard and deep like he couldn’t get enough of the taste of himself in Jace’s mouth.

“Perfect,” Simon repeated as his hand closed around Jace’s cock, and all Jace could do was hold onto him and make desperate noises that he would absolutely deny later into Simon’s mouth as Simon expertly jerked him off. It would have been embarrassing how quickly he came, except that Jace was beyond embarrassment, beyond anything but the feel of Simon’s hand, his body, his mouth.

After, they lay together a while longer, exchanging lazy kisses until it became so much that Jace had to pull away. He couldn’t let himself get used to this.

Simon watched him, that tiny thoughtful furrow that Jace found so endearing forming between his brows. When he opened his mouth to speak, Jace cut him off.

“I was thinking, if we order Chinese now, we’ll have just enough time to wash up before it gets here. And after, I want to ride you until you can’t remember anything but my name.”

“I…” Simon blinked at him. “I think I am literally incapable of turning that down.”

“Cool.” Jace rolled off the bed, refusing to look back at Simon, all sex-tousled and sweaty in his bed. “I’ll grab the takeout menu.”

~~~

The Hunter’s Moon was busy for a Tuesday night. Not packed like it would be on the weekend, but definitely more than the usual crowd. Rock Solid Panda wasn’t a big enough name to draw a huge audience, but it was clear they were finally starting to make a name for themselves. It probably helped that they’d finally decided on and stuck with a name for more than two gigs.

Maia was working tonight, and Jace joined Lily and Bat at the bar so they could chat with her when she wasn’t too busy with other customers. It was the first time they’d all hung out together since they got back from break, and Jace had been both looking forward to and dreading the show. Looking forward to it because, despite anything he might say to the contrary, he’d actually kind of missed his friends. Dreading it because his friends knew him, knew Simon, and he really didn’t want to have the conversation he knew would happen if they figured out he and Simon were sleeping together. He wasn’t sure which would be worse, them making the same assumption they had in the coffee shop, that he and Simon were actually together, or them recognizing what was actually going on and knowing that Simon could so much better than Jace, realizing that Jace was willing to take whatever Simon would give him.

“You starting with beer or vodka tonight?” Maia asked as he slid onto a stool.

“Beer,” Jace answered. “I’ve got eight a.m. Latin this semester.”

“I don’t know what’s worse,” Lily told him, “that you insist on studying a dead language for fun, that you’re willing to be in class at eight in the morning to do it, or that you’re letting it keep you from getting properly drunk at your best friend’s show.”

“I took Latin in high school, and it just makes sense to stick with it for my language requirement, and Simon isn’t my best friend.”

“Oh, sorry,” Lily said, “your fake boyfriend’s show. Speaking of, seems like none of us has won that bet, yet. I’m impressed.” She looked up at Maia, who set a frothing pint in front of Jace. “Unless you’ve been holding out on us, Roberts.”

“Nope,” Maia said, shaking her head. “They both made it through the entire break without my assistance.”

“We’re proud of you, buddy,” Bat said, patting his shoulder.

“Oh, fuck off,” Jace said. “We were fine. Minimal family drama, and Simon charmed the hell out of my entire family.”

Maia’s eyebrows climbed almost to her hairline. “Even Maryse?” She’d never actually met Jace’s adoptive mother, but she’d heard more than her share of stories.

“Even Maryse,” Jace confirmed. “I think starting dating again has mellowed her out a little.”

At Lily’s prompting, Jace gave an abbreviated—and entirely sanitized—rundown of his visit home. Maia gave him an odd look when he mentioned Magnus’s party, but she didn’t say anything. Jace brushed it off, but it left him with an unsettled feeling.

“Hey, you,” Maia said to someone behind them just as Jace was finishing up his story.

“Hey,” Simon said. Jace could hear the smile in his voice even before he spun around to face him. “We just finished setting up and wanted to come say hi before we start our set. Becky says ‘hi back,’ by the way,” he told Maia.

“Did she say anything else?” Maia asked hopefully.

“Nope,” Simon said. “Well, she told me to stop being dumb when I suggested she, you know, actually talk to you. You guys know that’s an option, right? Talking to each other directly?”

Maia ignored him, turning to Maureen. “Excited about the big show?”

“Holy shit, you guys,” Maureen said, her own smile tempered by just a hint of panic, “there are so many people here.”

“Yeah, because you guys are awesome,” Maia said. “Seriously, you deserve this.”

“It’s true,” Lily said. “I don’t even like indie rock normally, but you guys are alright.”

“Ooh, ‘alright,’” Simon repeated archly. “High praise from the great Lily Chen.”

“And you better bask in it,” Lily told him. “It’s a shame you didn’t get here a little sooner. You just missed Jace telling us all about your New Year’s adventure.”

Simon’s eyebrows shot up. “Wh-what?” He threw a panicked look at Jace, who could only give a tiny head shake.

“Yeah,” Bat said. “We heard you got your ass kicked at Land Mines.”

“We lost by one shot!” Simon protested, visibly relaxing despite his scowl.

“Close only counts in horseshoes and hand grenades,” Jace told him, smirking.

“Really,” Simon said, turning to look at Jace with a calm intensity that Jace had gotten to know very well over the past several days, one that had his dick twitching with interest. “I’ll remember that.”

“Let me know if you need a reminder,” Jace said, leaning back against the bar. He saw Simon’s eyes flick to his collarbone, where the fading mark he’d left was just visible above the open collar of Jace’s shirt. It was light enough now that no one looking at it would know what it was at a glance, but Jace knew. And more importantly, Simon knew.

“I don’t think I’m the one who needs a reminder,” Simon said, and Jace had to actively suppress a shiver.

“Anyway,” Maureen said pointedly, giving them both a dubious look, “we should probably get back on stage. We’re on in five minutes.”

“Right,” Simon said, tearing his gaze away from Jace. “Playing music. That thing that we’re doing in front of, wow, so many people.” His grin was back as he looked at Maureen. “Holy shit.”

“Holy shit!” she agreed, pulling him toward the stage.

“I’d ask what that was about,” Lily said, “but I’m pretty sure I don’t want to know.”

“No idea what you’re talking about,” Jace said, sipping his beer nonchalantly.

“Wow,” Bat said. “Anyone ever tell you that you’re kind of a shitty liar?”

“If Jace had to explain every time he did something weird, he’d never stop talking,” Maia said, and Jace wasn’t sure whether to be offended or grateful. He was saved from having to decide by Simon stepping up to the mic and introducing the band.

Rock Solid Panda’s set was mostly music Jace knew, mostly their early songs with a few covers thrown in. As they played, Jace found himself paying less attention to the music and more to the way Simon’s hands moved as he played, the way he lost himself in the music. It wasn’t the first time Jace had found himself watching Simon, but it was the first time he let himself keep doing it.

“So, this last song is new,” Simon said. Over the course of their set, the crowd had gone quiet. “I just finished writing it a few days ago, and we’ve only played it a couple times in practice, so it might be a little rough. But, um. Well, I hope you like it. This one’s called Random Afternoon.”

As Simon plucked out the opening notes, Jace recognized it as something he’d heard vague snippets of over the past couple weeks, just the guitar line as Simon worked through it in his room. This was the first time he’d heard any of the lyrics, though.

It was a love song. Melodic and melancholic, it spoke of a love that didn’t sweep you off your feet but bloomed in a thousand tiny, mundane moments. A love that started as the faintest flicker and grew to a consuming inferno before you realized you were in danger of getting burned. A love that was wholly unrequited, because those moments didn’t mean the same thing to them as they did to you.

Jace drained the last of his beer, trying to settle the uneasy feeling in the pit of his stomach. It wasn’t jealousy. He didn’t get jealous. It was just a song, and he and Simon weren’t even together really, so even if Simon was harboring feelings for someone he couldn’t have, it wasn’t any of Jace’s business.

He turned to the bar, intending to ask for another drink—something stronger this time, maybe—only to find Maia already there, sliding a glass of water over to him. He raised a questioning eyebrow.

“Don’t be stupid,” she told him, shaking her head like she knew exactly what he was thinking. Maybe she did. She was the only person he’d ever talked to about…any of this. But at least last time she’d given him tequila.

He looked back to the stage, sipping his water and wishing he’d insisted on tequila.

~~~

“Thanks for staying and helping us get all the equipment loaded back in the van,” Simon said when they got back to the apartment several hours later. “You didn’t have to, and I know you’ve got early class tomorrow.”

“It was wholly self-serving,” Jace told him. He still felt unsettled and far too sober. “You would have woken me up when you got home, anyway, and it would have taken you longer without my help.”

“Well, whatever your reasons, I appreciate it,” Simon said. “I still can’t believe so many people showed up.”

“I can,” Jace said, shrugging out of his jacket and tossing it over the back of the couch. “You played a good show.”

“You really think so?” Simon looked genuinely surprised, and it only added to Jace’s feeling of disquiet.

“Yeah,” Jace said, like it was the most obvious thing in the world. It should have been. Maybe he wasn’t as effusive in his praise as Bat or Maia, but he’d been to basically all of Rock Solid Panda’s shows over the past two years. “You put a lot of yourself into your music.”

As soon as the words were out of Jace’s mouth, he was thinking of the new song Simon had played. Maybe he’d been thinking about it the whole time. From the way Simon froze, Jace knew he’d hit a nerve.

“Sometimes,” Simon said. “But not always,” he added quickly. “Sometimes, I write songs about, like, random thoughts that come into my head, or stuff that’s happened to other people, or, you know, Maureen and I even collaborate on writing sometimes, so some of the songs are hers.” Simon was babbling. He was kind of a terrible liar.

“It was a compliment,” Jace said with an amusement he didn’t feel. “You should learn how to take one.”

“Oh,” Simon said. “Right.” He forced a smile that almost looked genuine. “Thank you.”

Jace shook his head. “I give that a C-plus at best. Come on, you can do better than that.”

“You know what?” Simon said, raising his chin. “I take it back. I shouldn’t be thanking you, because Rock Solid Panda is awesome, and our music is awesome, and you should be complimenting us, like, all the time.”

“That’s more like it,” Jace said, grinning.

“No, now I just sound like you,” Simon said, shaking his head.

“Exactly.” Because I’m awesome and people should be complimenting me all the time.”

Simon gave him an unimpressed look. “Remind me why I’m friends with you again?”

“We literally just went over this,” Jace said, lounging against the wall. “Because I’m awesome and people should—”

“Oh my god, stop talking,” Simon said, but he was obviously fighting back a smile now. “Seriously.”

“You going to make me?” Jace challenged, and this was probably the kind of thing Maia meant when she told him not to be stupid, because he knew now that Simon was in love with someone else. Or hung up on someone, anyway. And Jace was at least honest enough with himself to know that he was just asking to get hurt if he kept having sex with a guy he was maybe into as more than just a friend with benefits who didn’t feel the same way about him.

He was also honest enough with himself to know he was going to do it, anyway.

Simon shook his head. “Nope. That’ll just encourage you.”

“See, you say that.” Jace stretched his arms above his head, very deliberately arching his back and making his shirt ride up to reveal a sliver of skin above the waistband of his jeans. “But this is totally doing it for you.”

“I really kind of hate you sometimes,” Simon said without heat before stalking over and pinning Jace’s still-raised wrists to the wall above his head.

“Oh yeah?” Jace said, rolling his hips shamelessly against Simon’s. “Why don’t you show me how much?”

The kiss was hard and bruising, Simon’s body pressing him into the wall like he was trying to erase every millimeter of space between them. Jace kissed back just as hard, exerting just enough pressure with his arms to make a show of protest, but not nearly enough to break Simon’s hold. Maybe he’d never be the kind of guy Simon wrote love songs about, but like this, he knew what Simon wanted, what he liked, and he planned to give it to him.

They were both breathing hard when Simon broke the kiss to say, “Bedroom, now.”

“Yeah,” Jace agreed, a little dazed.

“Mine, not yours,” Simon added seriously. “I want you in my bed.” He put just a little more pressure on Jace’s wrists before releasing them entirely.

Jace felt like all the air had been punched out of his lungs. They hadn’t actually done anything in Simon’s room. They mostly ended up in Jace’s room, or on the couch, and there had been that one time in the bathroom when they had decisively concluded their shower was not big enough for anything other than getting clean. But never in Simon’s room, and the idea that he wanted Jace there, in his bed, made something inside Jace tremble.

Simon didn’t give him time to dwell on it, kissing him again before turning to walk down the hall toward his room, expecting Jace to follow. Knowing Jace would, probably, because somewhere along the line Jace had apparently lost any ability he once had to say no to Simon.

As soon as he made it to the bedroom, Simon was kissing him again, deep and filthy and full of promise as he quickly and efficiently divested Jace of his shirt and pants.

“Eager,” Jace observed as he kicked free of the pants that had pooled around his ankles, leaving him in nothing but a pair of black boxer-briefs.

“You wanted me to show you how much I hate you,” Simon said. His smile and tone were teasing, but there was something else in his eyes that Jace couldn’t quite identify. “So that’s what I’m doing. Get on the bed.”

Jace made a show of stretching out on the bed, reveling in how Simon followed his every move with his eyes.

“You just planning to look?” he asked when Simon made no move to follow him.

“You kinda deserve it,” Simon said, pulling off his own shirt. “But no.” He kicked off his pants and crawled up the bed until they were face to face, his knees bracketing Jace’s hips. “Because you’re right. This totally does it for me.”

He leaned down to bring their mouths together, and it was slow and gentle in a way Jace wasn’t expecting, wasn’t prepared for, and he felt like he was being unraveled by it, all the loose threads that made up the tangled mess that was Jace being pulled apart by Simon’s lips and tongue and breath.

“Here’s how this is going to go,” Simon told him, mouthing along the skin of his jaw. He took one of Jace’s hands and wrapped his fingers around the slats of the headboard, then did the same with the other hand. “You’re going to keep your hands right here like this, and I’m going to fuck you, and you’re going to take it.”

As close as they were, there was no hiding Jace’s full-body shiver at Simon’s words, no hiding just how much he wanted, but he still put on a cocky smile and gave his best shot at seeming unaffected. “Bossy. What makes you think I’m just going to go along with it?”

“Because you like me bossy,” Simon said, running his hands up Jace’s arms from his shoulders to where his hands still gripped the headboard and grinning down at him. “This is totally doing it for you.”

Jace’s denial was cut off by Simon reaching a hand down to cup his cock through his underwear, thumb dragging across fabric wet with pre-come. Jace bucked up into the touch, gasping. His hands stayed where they were.

Simon’s grin was smug as he hooked his fingers in the waistband of Jace’s boxer-briefs and pulled them down and off in a single motion. Jace made a soft noise—half relief, half impatience—as his cock sprang free from its confines to lie hard and leaking against his abdomen.

Simon’s smugness turned to something almost like awe as he sat back on his heels and just looked, and Jace started to feel that unraveling sensation again even as his cock twitched under the weight of Simon’s appreciation.

Jace licked his lips. “If you want me to take it, you’re going to have to give it to me.”

“I’d tell you to be patient, but I know that’s a lost cause,” Simon said, reaching over to grab condoms and lube from his nightstand. This meant leaning over Jace, close enough that Jace could feel the heat of Simon’s body, but still not quite touching. Until Jace rocked his hips up, rutting against Simon’s hip for the few glorious seconds it took Simon to pull back.

Simon sat back on his heels once again, his free hand moving to Jace’s hip and pressing it firmly into the mattress as he gave him an unimpressed look.

Jace smirked back. “I wouldn’t need to be patient if you weren’t taking your damn time about it.”

“You say things like that,” Simon said, uncapping the lube, “but I don’t think you’ve really considered the full implications of what you’re asking for.” He poured some lube out into his palm, coating his hand, before moving the bottle to spill directly onto Jace’s dick.

“Fuck, fuck.” Jace arched off the bed from the unexpected cold, and before he could even find the words to tell Simon what an absolute asshole he was, the cold was replaced with the heat and delicious pressure of Simon’s hand.

“And anyway,” Simon said, continuing to stroke Jace’s cock with one hand while the lube-slick fingers of his other hands circled Jace’s hole, “this is supposed to be about how much I hate you.” He pressed one finger just inside, teasing Jace’s rim. “So I’m going to take exactly as long as I want to.”

Then that finger slid all the way in, and for a while Jace’s entire world narrowed down to the feel of Simon’s fingers—around him, inside him—and the sound of Simon’s voice, teasing and praising in turn.

“God, look at you.” Simon had three fingers inside him, and Jace had long since lost the ability to form coherent words. Or do anything, really, besides cling to the headboard and writhe under Simon’s touch.

“You’re so hot like this.” He curled his fingers, stroking over Jace’s prostate for what must have been the hundredth time. “And everyone thinks they know how hot you are, but they don’t because most of them haven’t seen you like this, and that’s almost a kind of tragedy except that I do get to see you like this.” He sounded almost as wrecked as Jace felt. “I get to make you like this.”

“Simon,” Jace gasped, and he wasn’t sure whether it was Simon’s words or the curl of his fingers that brought him there.

“Okay,” Simon breathed. “Okay, yeah.” And then Simon was taking his hands away and Jace let out a desperate whine because Simon going away was the last thing he wanted.

“Shh,” Simon soothed as he tugged off his own underwear and fumbled open the condom wrapper. “I’m not going anywhere.” He dropped a quick kiss on Jace’s knee, then leaned back again so he could roll the condom on and slick up his cock. “I promise.”

“Don’t want promises,” Jace said, managing to drag the words out from somewhere. “Just want you in me already.”

Simon let out a faint growl, and then he was hooking Jace’s knees over his shoulders, pinning Jace to the bed with his own body, pushing into him in a single, relentless stroke.

“This what you wanted?” Simon asked when his hips sat flush against Jace’s ass.

It was. God, it was.

“Want you to move,” Jace said.

Simon did, fucking Jace like he wanted to break him, kissing him like he wanted to own him. It was everything, and Jace took it. Because Simon told him to. Because he wanted to.

“Feels so good,” Simon panted. “God, Jace, I just—”

He reached a hand between them to wrap around Jace’s cock, stroking in time with his thrusts, and Jace keened.

“Come for me,” Simon said. “I want to feel you come for me, baby.”

Jace didn’t know whether it was the command or the endearment that pushed him over the edge, but he was shaking apart with Simon’s next upstroke, spilling between their bodies as Simon swallowed the desperate sounds of his release. Simon fucked him through it, not slowing until Jace was trembling on the edge of overstimulation.

“Don’t stop,” Jace told him. “I can take it.”

“Jace—” Simon’s voice was wary, but Jace could feel how much he wanted in the way his body trembled, the way his hips never quite stopped moving.

“Want you to come with your dick inside me,” Jace said, locking his ankles around Simon’s back. “Please.”

“Fuck,” Simon swore as he started moving in earnest again. “How are you even real?”

Jace wanted to respond with something pithy and clever, but he’d lost all capacity for words, for thought as Simon fucked into him, chasing his own pleasure. It teetered on the edge of too much, would be too much if Jace let it, and all he had it in him to do was hang on until finally Simon’s hips lost their rhythm and Jace felt his dick pulsing inside him as he whispered nonsensical words of affection into the skin of Jace’s shoulder.

They lay like that for what felt like an eternity, yet still not enough time at all, until Simon finally sighed and pulled his softening cock out to deal with the condom. He looked at Jace as he tied it off and tossed it in the trash.

“You can let go now,” Simon told him. When Jace just frowned in confusion, he leaned over and tapped Jace’s biceps, grinning.

Jace felt himself flush as he uncurled his fingers from the headboard and lowered his arms, rolling his shoulders to ease the faint ache. He’d forgotten he was even still holding on. He wracked his brain for something to say, anything that would save him from having to think about how easy it had been to do what Simon told him to do, how much he’d wanted to.

“So, you hate me that much, huh?”

Simon’s bark of laughter was incredulous. “Yeah,” he said. “Yeah, exactly that much.” There was that look in his eyes again, the one Jace couldn’t place, but Simon tore his gaze away before he could tease it out.

“You could stay in here tonight,” Simon said with deliberate casualness, and Jace felt his heart stutter in his chest. “You know, if you want.”

He wanted it so much it was almost a physical ache.

“I’ve got early class,” he said instead. He was keenly aware of all those loose threads Simon had inadvertently spent the last couple hours pulling apart, ready to unravel him completely with just the right tug. He rolled out of Simon’s bed. “I’m just going to take a quick shower and head to bed.”

“Sure,” Simon said. “Of course. That makes total sense. Um. Sleep well.”

“Yeah, you too,” Jace said, grabbing his clothes from the floor as an excuse not to look at Simon. He knew he wouldn’t be able to say no if Simon asked again.

Simon didn’t.

#shadowhunters #shmb2021 #jimon #jimon fic #jace wayland #simon lewis

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