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#and that happens soften because men are poison
shanniethewr · 7 months
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in loving arms
summary: men are cruel as they disgustingly label women lower than them. as unfortunate as it may seem, you fortunately have your dearest who proves that he's not as low as the vile creatures.
warnings: boys being disgusting, harassment, past toxic relationships, sexual harassment, name-calling (slut, whore), swearing, assault, mentions of violence, lowkey ooc
characters: albedo, cyno, kazuha, lyney, and tighnari gn!reader but implied having feminine items such as a purse lowercase intended + not proofread
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ALBEDO
traversing through mondstadt was another mundane routine for you, helping the citizens with their troubles and whatnot. fortunately, things had been far more peaceful ever since the traveler had came and gave leeway for peace in the city of freedom.
but that didn't mean horrid things would suddenly stop overnight. oh no, definitely not. because the least you expected was to find yourself in a vacant room in the favonious headquarters, surrounded by what people call the knights.
"heh. you know you shouldn't be walking around with those skimpy clothes you got, looking like a slut." you cringed, feeling a shiver down your spine as you stepped backward from the nearing hand.
"you're absolutely disgusting. how the hell have you become a knight with that filthy attitude? archons, i feel truly disappointed for your parents." you spat with venom in your tone, the consequence for that was angering the knight.
"a feisty one, hah?" he grinned with a sickening feeling, and his hands soon laid on your body, groping in places it shouldn't be. "stop it!" you yelled, thrashing around, attempting to pull the man away. you were no fighter, and that was obvious.
you felt nauseous, you couldn't even comprehend the words that were being said. you just wanted to go see albedo, why must the world play and pull on the strings of your life?
"to think such behavior was conducted in the headquarters filled with people who's desires are to protect the people, not to harass them... truly disappointing." a familiar voice, the speech was relaxed, if not, unfazed. however, there was a tone of hostility, dripping with poison.
albedo, whose eyes are glimmering with disgust and anger, a contrast to his gentle and calm expression. "c-chief alchemist!" you took the opportunity to slip away, quick to get to albedo's side and taking his hand in yours, an attempt of comforting yourself and to soothe the chalk prince's anger.
"i'm sorry my dear, have i not been caught up with affairs, this wouldn't have happened." albedo said, eyes softening when meeting with yours, lips on your forehead as you relished in his calming presence. "you can go wait outside, i'll just deal with some unnecessary variables."
ushered to exit the room, you saw nothing, but you sure did hear the sound of a fist meeting with a face along with the cries of the knight begging for forgiveness.
CYNO
being a scholar in the akademiya and the rumored beloved of the general mahamatra was not a peaceful matter as you thought of it before. fortunately, it had its perks, the downside was that some people just forget about it.
"c'mon baby, let's just forget the past and move on, 'kay?" the man, boy, you used to call your lover has been invading your personal privacy and has been continuously annoying you about it.
'how the hell did he even find me...' you thought, gritting your fists as you stood up from your seat, being agitated for far too long. "hey! don't ignore me babe!"
exiting lambad's tavern, the night sky of sumeru looks down upon your figure along with the radiant stars. the scenery would be perfect for a romantic and dreamy moment, but unfortunately, an irritating being is stuck to you like a leech, having no intention of letting go.
"can you fucking stop!?" you yelled after the constant annoyance of the presence following you for archons knows how long, stunning your ex, standing in shock at your sudden outburst. "there's no future for the two of us! if you wanted one, you should've treated me like the way you want to be treated! i will never go back to the likes of you again."
"is that how you treat me? after i took care and loved you for so long!?" that was all you needed to snap, as the loud sound of a slap was heard echoing in the quiet, empty streets of sumeru.
"took care of me!? what the hell are you talking about you bastard!? i was the one who did all of your unfinished works and projects, i was the one making money!! you, you ungrateful bastard always took the savings i had just to buy some useless pair of jewelry only to find out you were giving it to some other girl!"
tears brimmed your eyes as you felt your throat becoming hoarse after every second of yelling at the awful man in front of you. archons, you just wanted to have a peaceful drink at a tavern, not to meet the person you hated the most.
because damn, he was acting like a fucking weed.
"hah!? you're really starting to become more disobedient now, talking back to me." you yelped in pain as he pulled on your hair, kneeing your stomach as you coughed in pain.
"where's your lover now, huh? don't tell me all of those rumors were fake." he chuckled evilly as you sob from the pain.
and everything went like a blur, you heard your ex howling in pain along with the sounds of bones being broken. not soon after, you were cradled in strong arms against a sturdy chest, the very action soothed your pain and worries.
"you weren't home my love, don't worry, i'm here now, i won't let anything bother you from now on." cyno's stern yet gentle voice brought you to reality as you melted in his embrace.
cyno's amber eyes soon turned into the eyes of a predator eyeing its prey, a frown on his lips, one of anger. "and as for you. i recommend you not to bother them anymore, less you want to be enclosed behind cold bars, feel free to take up the offer anytime."
your ex panicked, taking off in fear. your lover huffed, soon carrying you in his sturdy arms. "sorry cyno, for.. making you worry." you quietly stated against his chest as he remained quiet for a few moments before speaking.
"please, don't. it's my duty to make sure you're safe and loved, so no matter what, i trust that you will rely on me in times of need."
KAZUHA
you leisurely walked into the streets of inazuma, enjoying the taste of freedom after the sakoku decree was abolished, there was a new upbeat in the city and the people were thriving.
that was only a few minutes ago, until you found yourself in a quiet alleyway with a weird man cornering you. "you shouldn't have gone walking around like that, you filthy whore, that desperate for attention?"
there wasn't anything special about your clothes, a typical inazuman outfit with a few alterations thanks to your dear friend, ayaka, who told the seamstress to add a few decorations, claiming it would brighten your beauty more.
"you creep. just because the sakoku decree was abolished, that doesn't mean you can just waltz in and start sexualizing our cultural outfit! have you not heard of respect!?" you countered, glaring at the man as your grip on your purse tightened, you should've asked kazuha for some martial lessons at the very least.
"but i can do whatever the hell i want. it's your fault for wearing those clothes." his hand was on your shoulder, attempting to pull down the sleeves as you thrashed your arms around.
"NO! STOP IT!" you hated this, you wanted to run, scream. but how could you do that when you're pinned against the wall as the man was grinning evilly? you prayed for the archons to at least save you from this moment.
and fortunately enough, your prayers were answered.
"attempting to sexually assault on an unwilling individual, much less my beloved, you've inclined me to do worse than having you rot behind the bars of inazuma." a voice so gentle yet cold and stern, kazuha spoke, hands gripped into a fist, "who the hell are you!?"
"just a wanderer passing by. now, if you'd allow me..." the samurai was quick to act on his feet, punching the stranger, causing him to falter and fall to his knees. kazuha immediately embraced you in his loving arms, lightly combing his fingers through your locks in hopes of soothing your shaking figure as he hid your partially clothed body from anyone's eyes.
"i'm sorry for taking so long, my dove. from now on, i swear on my name to never let you experience such things again. i will be your sword and i will protect you until death does us part."
LYNEY
the quiet atmosphere of the backstage was what you needed after a tiring night of endless cheering for your lover's and his sister's performance. undoubtedly, their performance was always pristine and beautiful, like always.
most of the staff had already packed away and home they went, for sleep had fallen among most of the people in fontaine. you were simply waiting for lyney as promised, claiming he had to go finish a quick task, leaving you alone in the empty opera.
the least you expected was to find yourself on the floor with a man you feared, on top of you with a terrifying grin on his lips. he has your hands pinned above your head as you weakly kick your legs around, only for it to be held down with his legs.
"i never expected you to wait like an obedient puppy for a man other than me! i think you deserve to be punished, i mean, come on, cheating already when we're just taking a break?"
you gritted your teeth in agitation, "the hell do you mean break? we broke up years ago! who the hell said we're still together?" you spat, glaring hard against the man on top of you.
"is that so? then i have no choice but to force you, it's your fault for doing this to me. if only you could've acted like you would with that filthy magician." a blade, seemingly out of nowhere was in his possession, lightly pressing it against your cheek as your breath hitched.
"knock it off!" you yelled, thrashing your limbs around as the man let out a disgusting laugh, enjoying the suffering he was putting you through.
"trespassing in the backstage is not something for audiences like you, especially when you dare to attack mon trésor, is something that i will not let go of lightly regardless of the circumstances." lyney said, his charming smile was seen yet his aura was the contrast of the magician lyney. he is upset, in the sense of madness.
"hah! what can you even do? throw cards at me?" the man chortled, you however, were subtly trying to escape from his grasp which lyney noticed. with a snap of his fingers, you found yourself in the arms of the one you dearly loved. "what!?"
"oh, i'll do something far worse than that. you see, i've been wanting to test out a new magic trick, one where they saw and tear through your limbs. your actions today demonstrated that you're the perfect candidate for such a terrific trick!" lyney's voice was coated in venom, his eyes glared with the intention to do something to the man.
you heard only bits and parts, as his hands were over your eyes and ears, embracing you closer to him as a gesture that you were safe with him. that was a pure and pristine fact, as the magician lyney would filter his words about you with nothing but truths.
"let the show begin! ah, but before that, mon trésor, please wait outside for a while. don't worry, i promise not to make you wait for too long, and i will make sure i will protect you as it is my duty as your lover to do so."
TIGHNARI
a visit to gandharva ville was a normal weekly routine for you, as you had a busy job, and so did your partner, tighnari. but that didn't stop the two of you to express your love to one another each weekly visit.
you were patiently waiting for him at an empty hut, quietly indulging in the music of nature as you sipped on your favorite drink that collei knew all too well, having it prepared before your arrival.
"oh hey! look who it is, it's been a while, old friend." one of your former scholars from the akademiya said, taking a seat in front of you as you smiled, "you as well. how are you fairing lately?"
"same old, same old. how about you? i heard you've gotten a partner recently." you nodded in response, "yup! he's actually—" "he must be lucky, huh?"
you went silent, a shiver crawling down your spine, and you knew something wasn't right. "what do you mean?" "well, you know, you've always been a heavy sleeper. i could've done anything to you and you wouldn't even wake up or even know about it."
"but it's not surprising if he'd already done that to you. i mean, even arjurn and daksh wanted to do you but they never got a chance. gotta give them one in the future, right?" he laughed as if he was just talking about the weather while you were shocked, disgusted even.
"please leave," you stated, glaring hard at the person you once thought as a friend in front of you, only for him to wolf whistle in return. "feisty huh?"
his hand wandered under the table and found itself on your thighs, causing you to flinch and stand up abruptly. "if you're here just to make disgusting comments about me and my partner, leave! you are not needed here."
"come on sweetheart, that can't do. besides, he doesn't need to know what'll happen between us." standing up, you found yourself defensively taking a step back from the awful creature in front of you.
"stop it. leave! i don't need you or your disgusting presence in this room, right now! if you won't leave, then i have no choice to report you to the chief officer of the forest rangers."
"then, let's just make this quick, alright? just—"
"they said to leave. you have made a trespassed against a very dangerous territory sir, with that filthy behavior, you are officially never welcomed in gandharva ville again." tighnari spoke from behind, his galre hard as his voice remained cold and ruthlessly.
making a beeline towards tighnari, you found yourself in his embrace along with his sweet gesture of a forehead kiss. "you dare to force my partner into something they were unwilling to do, have i seen them being harassed and forced into the act, i will not act as merciful as i did today."
"so please. leave, before i make your consequence harsher than it is. if you dare to go near to my lotus again, i am not afraid to make a hole in that head of yours."
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— © wr.shannie created on 8.26.23 finished on 8.27.23
do NOT copy or plagiarize my work!!
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dbnightingale24 · 29 days
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Fog In The Mind, Desire In The Heart
A Dark Curtis Everett Love Story
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Surprise! I decided to take a small break from the three novels I'm writing (I promise that your updates are coming!!), and finish the damn Curtis Everett one shot I promised you guys years ago. It may take me forever to get to the point, but I do eventually get there, in my defense. Anywho, this is a lot shorter than what you all are used to, but I hope you all enjoy it just the same! As always, thanks to the amazing @fuckingbyefor the moodboard! Here we go!
Word Count: 9911 (yes, you read that correctly)
Warnings: SMUT (MINORS DNI 18+), Slight Snowpiercer AU, Slight Age Gap between Edgar and Reader (work with me people), Curtis Everett, Daddy Kink, Non Con/Dub Con, Drinking, Plotting, Self Hate, Loathing, Betrayal, Swearing, Angst, Mild Violence, Anger, Pining...I think that's it?
Songs That Inspired This Story: I'd Walk Through Fire For You, Just Let Me Adore You
Summary: Everyone stuck in the tail section dreamed of a better life for themselves. Everyone except for Curtis. For him, his better life would start when you were happy and by his side, no matter who he had to force out of the way.
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I do not give consent/permission for my stories/works to be posted/published elsewhere. I do not condone this type of behavior, this is for entertainment purposes only.
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For as much as you hate Curtis, he lives rent free in your head all day. You sit at the bar that Nam so lovingly bar tends day in and day out, listening in and out of the conversation he makes almost every night.
“Right now isn’t the time, but you’ll see...the world will be livable again. Maybe another year or so, but we’ll be able to get off of this fucking train,” he tells you tonight, an echo of the same thing he’s been saying every night for the last two years.
“What did Curtis say?” you snicker, putting your empty glass down as he reaches for your favorite poison: whiskey.
“He’s busy,” Nam simply shrugs, refilling your glass with ice and the dark brown liquid.
“When isn’t he?”
“Y/N, you know what happened to Edgar-”
“He’s gone, Nam,” you snap unintentionally. “Whatever the hell Curtis meant to happen, didn’t. Edgar has been dead for two years and all the while we wait for the great Curtis Everett to come up with a fucking plan to make all of this not seem so shit as it is,” you sigh before downing your drink.
Your reasons for hating Curtis are very simple and clear for everyone to understand.
Everyone except Curtis.
You remember when you first boarded onto the stupid train that “saved” your life. You remember them ripping you away from your Mother, who sacrificed herself so you could have a chance at life, and her promising you that she’d meet up with you later on in the train.
She never did.
You know she only did it because she knew it was the only way you’d board the train, but the anger feel towards her never leaves.
It never has and it never will. 
That was the first time you saw him.
You were put into a group of young teenage girls, a place you barely belonged since you were almost 17, and you felt a pair of eyes on you. 
It’s not like that was uncommon, but it didn’t help anything. In fact, as time went on, on the train, you found that a lot of men had their eyes on you. You were beautiful, soft spoken but also opinionated, and kind. You were so understanding and helpful, unlike almost everyone else on the train who gave up hope as soon as the doors closed.
They all did their best to make you notice them, Curtis more than most, but you were more than happy to keep to yourself. 
At least, that’s until Edgar came of age. While he was younger than you by a few years, he was persistent and the only one who could truly make you smile and laugh. For as tense and gloomy as things could be, Edgar always found a way to soften everything. The first few times he asked you out (well, too hangout on his bed), you said no because of the age difference. 
“Who cares?” he laughed as he followed you to the little hospital section they had set up in one of the train cars.
“Clearly I do!”
“It’s not that bad!”
“Edgar-”
“What could it hurt? We’ll split a protein block, a cup of water, talk a bit, and I’ll walk you back to your bunk. It’ll be fun!”
“Edgar-”
“You know you want to, I see it in your eyes.”
“No Edgar,” you smiled softly before making your way to the children’s bunks to read them a story.
“You’ll say yes, you’ll see!” he called with a soft smile, before he turned and made his way back to his bunk.
After that, he didn’t let up. He asked almost every day until you finally caved and said yes. From that moment on, you two inseparable (after you both finished your daily chores). You loved to spend time reading to the children and he was more than happy to accompany you. The kids loved him anyway.
“What do you think about us having one?” Edgar asked one night as you two laid together after sex.
“Having one what?”
“Child?”
“Fuck no!”
“Shh,” he laughed softly, stroking your hair. “Why not?”
“You can’t be serious, babe. We live on a fucking train, the shittiest part of the train I might add, the world is frozen, the front end comes and randomly takes children whenever they please-”
“It won’t always be like this, plus, Curtis has a plan.”
“Oh? What plan is that?” you scoffed
Edgar had always been Curtis’ biggest supporter.
“Why don’t you believe in him?”
“It’s not that I don’t believe in him, but I’m not willing to follow blindly behind him. Everyone else is, and I just don’t see a reason to,” you shrugged.
“Y/N-”
“You asked me a question and I gave you an answer. It’s not my fault that you don’t like the answer, baby.”
Curtis had always been the one thing that got in the way of your relationship with Edgar. Edgar would willingly follow Curtis, no matter what he said or what he did, and you weren’t buying into any of it. Sure, Curtis seemed nice enough and he was kind when he wanted to be, but there was also a silent anger to him. A silent anger that always seemed like it could go off at any time. 
Plus, it’s not exactly like he was thrilled when you and Edgar started seeing each other. Once again, a lot of the men weren’t, but everyone could see how happy you were. How well you and Edgar fit together. Curtis, on the other hand, rolled his eyes whenever he saw the two of you together. 
“Why don’t you come and help us tonight? You always have an idea-”
“No,” you laughed and Edgar scowled. “That’s your thing, not mine.”
“If you’d come, you’d see there’s nothing to hate about-”“I don’t hate Curtis!” you snapped softly and he rolled his eyes, “I just...something isn’t right there. You all just follow and believe everything that he says, and that’s not okay.”
“You always find a reason to doubt him and hes never given you a reason to.”
“And hes never given you a reason to trust him so much!”
“I’m not having another argument about this-”
“Good, because I’m tired of him somehow always becoming the center of our relationship.”
“Y/N-”
“You’re gonna be late. Go.”
You hated arguing so much with him about Curtis, but he didn’t know the things that you knew about him. Besides the fact that his eyes always lingered on you for far much longer than they should have, you knew about the things that Edgar was too young to remember. You knew what happened to his Mother, you knew what almost happened to Edgar, and you knew that Curtis would stop at nothing to get what he wanted.
Besides, by the way he watched you like you were his prey, you knew he’d stop at nothing to get you. So, when it was finally time for the “great uprising” you begged Edgar to stay behind with you.
“We’ve spent too long planning and plotting for me to stay behind-”
“You can stay with me!” you sobbed and he shook his head.
“Trust me! Believe in me! I can do this!”
“Edgar-”
“We’ll have a future, children, space-”
“I just want you! Please-”
“I’ll come back to you and you’ll see. I promise you, it’ll be okay. I love you.”
That was the last time you saw him alive.
When word got back to you how he’d been killed, and who let it happen, something inside you snapped. You became violent, you lost all patience, you attacked anyone who got in your way as you started on your own journey to the front, and you led everyone who had stayed behind to the front of the train with you. By the time you got there, Wilford had been killed and Curtis was the new leader. Of course, no one noticed all of the changes in Curtis’ attitude, as if you all owed him your lives, because he’d apparently made your lives better. He made changes that made years of suffering finally seem like they had been worth something. 
Everyone except you.
“Curtis wants to see you,” one of the girls tells you as she approaches the bar. 
Sansa, who’s his regular girl. 
“Just give him time,” Nam repeats softly, filling your glass one last time. 
You roll your eyes and down your drink before you follow Sansa to the very front of the train.
This isn’t the first time you’ve been called to his bedroom. Hell, it isn’t even the 100th time. Not long after the battle ended and changes were made, Curtis Everette made it very well known to everyone on the train, that you are his absolute favorite. Not so much with his words, but with his actions. He’d made it seem as if it were out of honor for Edgar, but the way he watched you let you know that, that was bullshit. No, he never called you into his bed, but he also made sure to never let you get close to another man again.
He made sure you never had to work, you never wanted for anything, you always had fresh clothes waiting for you, and you had one of the best rooms on the train. 
“Edgar sacrificed his life so you could have a better one. It only makes sense that you have the best of everything,” he whispered the night that he’d helped you settle into your new room.
In return, you’ve made it known that you’ll always despise him.
“What?” you snap the second you step foot inside his room.
He looks at you with his bourbon shot eyes, and you scoff. He’s in one of his moods.
“You could be a little nicer to me, Y/N.”
“Everyone on this train is nice enough to you. Now, what do you want? What’s the point of giving me a room if you never actually let me stay in it.”
“What’s wrong with you today?” he sneers, pouring himself another drink.
“You’re still here and Edgar isn’t.”
“Edgar made his choice-”
“Edgar worshiped you and blindly followed you into battle, and you couldn’t give less of a shit about what happened to him.”
“That’s not true!”
You scoff and narrow your eyes at him, “then why do you call me here every fucking night?”
“I’ve never done anything-”
“I know you’re not drunk enough to lie to me,” you warn with a snarl.
No, technically Curtis has never done anything to you, but hes found ways to...mess with you. 
He’s had you stay in the rooms while hes fooled around with other women, sometimes multiple at once, if he gets drunk enough, he watches you bathe and get dressed, hes gone out of his way to show you just how badly he wants you, and he never lets you stay away from him for too long. No, he’s never forced himself on you and taken you, but hes always been just a few steps away from doing so.
With Edgar out of the way, he’s free to do whatever he pleases.
However, the problem is, Curtis wants you to want him. He wants you to burn for him just as bad as he burns for you. At one point, that would’ve been possible. It was never that you found him unattractive or unapproachable, something just always seemed...off. Now that, that’s been confirmed, you’re repulsed by the man.
Even if you do still find him painfully attractive.
A sick smirk comes to his face as he makes his way over to you, “I’ve never done anything that haven’t found yourself enjoying.” “Yes, because I love spending my nights watching fuck other women.”
“Could be you.”
“You can let go of that dream. If it never happened before, it sure as fuck isn’t gonna happen now.”
Without warning, he’s gripping your neck tight and forcing you against the wall, and you do your best to ignore the fluttering feeling in your stomach.
“You can pretend all you want to, but I know how bad you want it. I hear you at night when you think I’m asleep. The pathetic little moans and whimpers, and your desperate begging.”
Your eyes go wide and he chuckles darkly.
“You’re not as slick as you think, honey.”
“It’s not for you, so don’t go getting a big ego.” “It sure as shit isn’t for Edgar, even when you were fucking him regularly. He could never truly satisfy you. Not in the way you needed.” “You’re a bastard!”
“How many times did you picture me every time he fucked you, hmm? How many times do you picture me when you’re alone in that cozy little room of yours?”
You don’t know what the hell has gotten into him, because he’s never been this forceful with you before.
“Never!”
“You should be thanking me,” he growls, his grip on your neck getting tighter as he leans in close. “Maybe I should stop being so fucking nice to you and just take it.” “Don’t you fucking dare!”
“What will you do, huh? The only crying you’ll be doing is when I’m done with you and you’re begging for more of my cock.”
Of all the fucking times to be turned on.
“Curtis-”
“You fucking want it,” he continues, “even now, I know that little pussy is crying to be touched. To fucked until it’s ruined!”
You push him off of you and glare at him.
“Admit it! You orchestrated all of this so you could-”
“He knew what he was getting himself into! He knew the chance he was taking-”
“He trusted you!”
“That was his fault!”
There it is.
“So you admit it!”
“I’d do it again! Why did he deserve you but I didn’t?! I still don’t?! After all I’ve done for you?!”
“You’re monster!”
“Sticks and stones,” he smirks before pressing you against the wall again. “Maybe I should show you just how much of a monster I am.”
His lips are on yours and when you try to push him off of you, he doubles down on his efforts. Squeezing at the stitches in his other arm, he hisses in pain, dropping his glass and backs up for just a moment. He slaps you hard before going in for another kiss, but you’re quick to knee him in the groin.
“Bitch!”
You’re quick to run out and make your way to room, not sure of where else there is to hide, and before you can slide the door close, he’s pushing you in and slamming it shut behind him.
“Get out!”
“Get on the fucking bed!” “Curtis-”
“Fine, you want this to be rough? I can be as rough as you want me to be, baby,” he promises as he locks the door.
“HELP!”
“No one is going to go against me, no one is going to save you, and no one is gonna feel bad for you. Scream all you fucking want, they’ll know you’re just enjoying it,” he promises with a sinister smile.
Seeing no other way out of this, you rush him against the wall and just start hitting him with all the power you have in your body.
“I’ve never had to work for it,” he taunts, easily pushing you back. “Never had to make a bitch admit just how bad she wants me!”
“I hate you! I want nothing to do with you!”
“Is that what you’d tell yourself every time you’d make eye contact with me while he was fucking you? Looking down at me as he fucked up into you, telling you just how much he loves and adores you?” he counters, easily wrapping an arm around your waist, easily throwing you down on the bed. “When you knew I was getting off to your hushed moans? You didn’t want anything to do with me then either? You didn’t want me making you scream?”
You hate that he has a point because, to an extent, you did want one him at one point. You wanted him bad. It’s part of why you’d turn down Edgar so many times. No, you never had any intention of pursuing Curtis, but you were attracted to him. Far more than you were to Edgar, and you felt incredibly guilty about it. You would’ve been content to be alone, but Edgar never relented and you eventually found it cute.
Of course you knew what Curtis was doing whenever the two of you locked eyes, but you truly never thought he’d let Edgar get killed so he could get you. The worst part of it is, even now that you know the truth of it all, you still want Curtis. In some sick way, the fact that he did something so horrible just to have you all to himself drove you insane in the worst way. You aren’t losing the fight because he’s overpowering you, you’re losing the fight because you’re tired of fighting it.
“Don’t get quiet on me now,” he snickers as pulls his top off and throws it across the room. “Don’t tell me that you’re a filthy little liar,” he presses as he rips your top open.
“Leave me alone!” “No, I’m done waiting around,” he husks, pulling your bra down. “Fuck!”
“Curtis-”
“You’re gonna shut the fuck up and you’re gonna enjoy everything daddy has to offer you,” he warns before dipping down and enveloping his right breast in his mouth; lewdly licking and sucking on it in the most depraved way.
“O-oh! Curtis!”
It’s been so long since you’ve been touched by anyone else.
“That’s right,” he mumbles before nipping on your nipple, while his other hand works on undoing your jeans, “I know exactly what you need, you little bitch.”
Your breathing comes heavier as his hand makes its way down into your panties, finding your overstimulated bundle of nerves.
“You’re fucking soaked!”
“Stop-”
“Stop fucking fighting me!” he warns, his other hand making it’s way around your throat. “You fucking want it! You’ve always fucking wanted it!”
You’re not sobbing because he’s doing something wrong, you’re sobbing because he’s right. Edgar would probably be alive if you’d just kept saying no to him.
“That’s right, baby. Just let me take care of you,” he moans, easily sliding a finger into you.
“Curtis,” you moan, bucking your hips forward.
“So beautiful, baby,” he coos, finally giving your other nipple attention, “waited so fucking long!”
“Oh fuck!”
You do your best to block out all images of Edgar and every feeling of guilt you felt. For whatever reason, Curtis wasn’t letting you go tonight and you didn’t want him to.
“You can barely take two fingers,” he groans, adding another thick finger to your sopping cunt as you rake your nails across his back. “Gonna have to get you ready for me. God, these fucking tits!” he husks.
“Please!” you whimper, feeling both pleasure and pain at the way he’s pulling you apart, “don’t fucking stop!”
“We’re gonna be at this a while,” he promises with a smirk as he picks up his pace. 
He resumes his assault on your left nipple for just a bit longer, before he finally starts leaving a trail of sloppy wet kisses down your body, pulling your pants down along the way. 
You’ve never had a guy go down on you before. Before you’d been put on the train, you’d only had sex twice and the both of you were inexperienced. When you were with Edgar, you two weren’t free to explore much. The most you’d been able to do was give him a blowjob, even that was uncomfortable.
“So fuckin’ pretty for me,” Curtis purrs against your pussy lips, “been waitin’ for me.”
The first lick is just a tease and you whine in protest, the second is right against your clit and whine his name as you dig your nails into his shoulders, and with the third he’s finally diving right in and claiming you as his own with his tongue.
“Oh God! Don’t fucking stop!” you beg pathetically, your legs starting to tremble as he massages your clit with his thumb. “Fuck!”
The sounds of his of his pornographic moans and roughness of his beard on your thighs somehow make you even more feral, and you can’t resist looking down. The sight of him buried between your legs has you biting on your bottom lip to keep from screaming. As if he can sense your feral gaze on him, you he looks up with a devilish glint in his ocean blue eyes, which have now darkened with twinges of desire and lust, as he starts fucking you faster with his tongue.
Your mouth hangs open and you’re right on the edge when he removes his tongue.
“What the fuck?!” you cry out and he chuckles darkly.
“I shouldn’t fucking let you cum at all,” he bites as he thrusts two fingers inside of you, causing you to buck your hips forward, “but I’m gonna get this tight little pussy ready for me,” he promises again.
The intrusion of a third finger has you throwing your head back in both pleasure and pain, and you try to push his hand away.
“None of that, fucking take it! Take it and then you’re gonna take my fucking cock,” he demands gruffly, applying more pressure to your clit with his thumb.
“Ngh- too much! Curtis please!”
“Then fucking cum! What, you don’t know how? Was it really that bad with him?” he taunts with a condescending chuckle.
You shouldn’t clench around his fingers the way you do at that.
“Not such a fucking saint after all, huh? Just a hungry little cock whore. Say it,” he demands lowly.
Biting down on your lip to keep quiet, you shake your head ‘no’.
Slapping one of your tits hard, he repeats, “say it!”
“ ‘m a cock whore!” you cry out, squirting hard and coating his wrist.
That’s new.
“Jesus fuck,” he growls.
He fucks you through your high, lapping up the mess you made, while you try to come down from your high. Somewhere in the back of your mind, you know how wrong all of this is, but you can’t focus on that right now. The pleasure is all consuming, and you can’t think on anything other than how much you want Curtis.
How, in some dark and twisted way, you’ve always wanted Curtis.
The sound of him unzipping his pants brings you back to reality, and you know you’re going to hate yourself in the morning. Hell, you hate yourself now. 
“Don’t ever make me fight this fucking hard for you again, you understand me?” he warns, kicking his jeans and boxers off of him and your bed.
You watch him with wide eyes and it’s as if he can read your mind.
“Don’t you dare try and fucking run from me now. You’re mine, you’ve always been mine, and you’ll always be mine.”
He takes his angry red cock in his hand, stoking it a few times, before dipping down and kissing you like you’d finally been returned to him after years of being held captive. The taste of you and whiskey mix together perfectly, intoxicating you, and you moan into his mouth, as both of your tongues fight for dominance.
“You are mine,” he broods once you two break apart as he spears himself inside of you.
“Shit!”
He lets out a strangled groan, “gonna make you feel better than you ever have before!”
He’s relentless as he fucks into you, knowing exactly what you need as you trail kisses down his neck. 
“Y/N,” he whines when you find that spot on the crook of his neck, biting down on it hard before using your tongue to soothe the pain. “Fuck! What a good girl,” he praises and you flutter around his cock. “My pretty girl likes that? Being my good fuckin girl?”
You’ve never been so full in your life and the only response you can muster is a pathetic moan, sucking even harder on his neck. 
“That’s right, baby. Mark me up...make sure they know I’m yours,” he growls, using one hand to pin your waist down, while the other pins your hands down to the bed above your head.
You don’t even care that he’s using you as his own personal rag doll, because you need it. You both need it. So many years of anger, frustration, and denial have finally come to a head, and it feels good.
It feels so fucking good.
“Oh God! Daddy!” you cry out, wrapping a leg around his waist as he finds a spot within you that you didn’t even know existed.
“Fuck, there it is!”
“Too much!”
“No it’s not, you’re gonna make a mess for me again,” he demands as his movements start to become erratic. 
The hand he’s using to pin your waist to the bed travels down between the both of you, and you let out a choked sob as he starts to massage your clit.
“So beautiful, baby. Love you so fucking much,” he grunts, and you’re not sure if he means you or your pussy.
Your mind is so full of fog that you truly don’t give a fuck.
You turn your head away as you feel the knot in your core tighten and he whines, “look at me...waited so long, let me see you, baby. C’mon...let daddy see you come apart.”
Forcing your gaze on him, there’s something equally soft in his feral blue eyes, and you know you’re done for. No matter what you feel in the morning, you’ll want this again and again.
You’ll want him again and again.
A silent scream leaves your mouth as your orgasm washes over you, the leg around his waist falling to the side as you make a mess between the both of you.
“That’s a good girl...milk my fat fuckin’ cock, baby,” he groans, resting his forehead against yours as he paints your inner walls with his love.
Well, you’ve fucking done it now. 
He peppers soft kisses from your forehead to your cheek, as he rides out both of your highs, whispering sweet nothings into your ear as he finally releases your arms. When he finally stills within you, half hard, you let your arms fall to your sides and close your eyes, feeling more full and desired than ever before.
Feeling more guilt than you ever have before.
You’re almost asleep when you hear, “clean daddy off, honey. We’re just getting started.”
He chuckles when he looks down at the confused look on your face.
“I told you: we’re gonna be at this for a while.”
You’re not sure what the hell has gotten into him, and why he’s so forceful tonight, but he keeps you up for hours in positions you’ve never even dreamed of. Exhausting your body over and over again, his lips covering every inch of your body that they can, and his hands exploring every part of you. It feels like heaven, and there’s a pitiful shame that washes over you with each orgasm. You lose count of how many times he tells you he loves you, and how perfect he thinks you are for him, and soon you’re just a mindless doll ready and willing to do anything he wants. You’ll give him anything as long as he continues to lessen the embarrassment that’s come with you finally giving yourself to him.
“That’s it, baby,” he grunts from behind as you lull your head back, “ride daddy’s dick just like that. Like a fucking cowgirl!”
“Ngh!”
“I know you’re tired,” he coos against your neck, his beard making you shutter as he strarts groping your breasts with both hands, “gonna fill your perfect little pussy one more time, I promise!”
The thought of you leaking with his release again has you clenching around him.
“You love being so full of me, don’t you?”
You just nod as you grip his thick thighs, digging your nails into them.
“I know, baby. Just needed daddy to show you who’s boss, didn’t you? Too ashamed to accept what I was so willing to give you,” he moans, kissing your neck as one of his hands travels between your thighs.
“DADDY!”
“So loud for me and I fucking love it! You’d never be this fuckin’ loud for him, would you?”
You lazily shake your head ‘no’.
“Didn’t deserve you...he couldn’t make you happy like I can. Like I always will,” he promises as he slaps your cunt.
That’s all it takes. You scream his name as your body spasms and you make a mess for what feels like the millionth time. He pulls you close, filling you to the brim, as your body relaxes against his.
“What a good girl,” he praises softly, his own breathing shallow as he guides your waist to ride out both of your orgasms.
You’ve never been so exhausted in your life.
You honestly have no control over your body at this point, so Curtis has to guide you off of him and onto the bed. You flinch when you feel some sort of fabric between your legs, cleaning you up.
“I know you’re sensitive, just a few more moments, baby,” he coos.
Well, he’s certainly much happier now that you’re a useless and mindless mess.
You feel the bed dip from behind you as he gets in, pulling the cover over the both of you before pulling you close to him. The fight that’s left in you isn’t enough to kill an ant. Instead, you just relax against him as you drift off into unconsciousness, hoping that all of this is just a very strong dream crafted from loneliness and desire.  
The last thing you hear before you succumb to darkness is, “I love you.”
~~
“Y/N,” a soft voice calls as a pair of hands shake your gently.
You blink a few times, coming back to reality and trying to separate your dreams from reality.
“Y/N? Curtis wants to see you in his room.”
Curtis.
All of a sudden the pain in your face and body catapult you back into reality. Shame washes over you, as well as an intense amount of guilt, and you curl into yourself. God, how could you give into him? How could you get off to some of the cruel and lewd things he said? What the fuck is wrong with you?
“Y/N? Did you hear me? Curtis-”
“No,” you respond softly, pulling the blanket tighter around yourself.
“He told me not to take ‘no’ for an answer,” the woman responds mournfully.
You say nothing, silently crying to yourself and wishing you were anywhere else. Wishing you could get away from your one true forbidden desire.
“Y/N, please,” the woman begs.
It’s not lost on you that she’ll more than likely have hell to pay, but you can’t face him. The more memories come flooding back, the more you want to the train to swallow you whole. To add insult to injury, arousal pools between your legs as desire takes over your body. What the hell came over the both of you last night, and why did you let it win? There was a time that you would’ve fought till the last breath in your body to keep Curtis off of you, but last night, you barely put up that much of a fight. You didn’t want to.
You hear your drawers open and what you assume are clothes landing on your bed, and you just pull the cover over your head. He got what he wanted out of you, so why can’t he leave you alone? What else could he want from you?
‘I love you.’
There’s no possible way he could’ve meant that. He was drunk. He treats every other woman on this train like his own personal pleasure toy, so what makes you any different? So special?
“What did I tell you last night about making me fight for you?”Curtis sighs as he walks into your room, closing the door shut behind him.
You were so lost in thought that you hadn’t even heard the woman leave.
  When you say nothing, he pulls the cover from you, “come on, Y/N. Don’t make me get forceful.”
You just pull your legs tighter to yourself and cry harder.
“What?”
“Please...just go away.”
“Y/N-” “You did it on purpose, Curtis. He loved you and you just...”
“You didn’t seem to mind that confession so much last night.”
“Which makes me just as awful as you if not worse,” you sob, once again realizing just how terrible you are. 
Edgar loved you unconditionally and you let the man responsible for his death fuck you like a beast, willingly giving him orgasm after orgasm.
“Honey,” Curtis tries to reason, going to touch your arm, but you pull away.
It’s insane how you can long for and hate someone’s touch so much at the same time.
Letting out another frustrated sigh, he pulls the cover back over your body and steps away, “fine.”
You can hear the pain in his voice, but he should feel like garbage. You both should. The sliding door to your room opens and closes again, and you’re finally on your own again. As you continue to cry, you if you’ll ever know peace again. If you aren’t, how long will it take you to allow yourself the comfort of Curtis?
Curtis’ P.O.V.
What the fuck is wrong with me? It’s not the first time I’ve gotten drunk and tormented you, but to attack you like that? Confess the truth in such a condescending way? Of course you want nothing to do with me now that the fog has cleared. Yes, what I did was fucked up, but I’ve been right about you since day one.
You wanted me all along.
It’s not like I didn’t care for Edgar, and he deserved more from me, but he didn’t deserve you. Watching him with you was like a knife to the chest every day. Hearing your moans and whimpers every night that he was inside you? Those were mine. They were for me. That’s why you always kept your eyes focused on me. You knew it just as well as I did. Maybe you’re the real monster in all of this, because you used him just as much as I envied him. 
You weren’t happy, you were never going to leave him, so I took charge. I didn’t expect for any of it to work out like it did, but it did nonetheless. I figured if I gave you enough time and space, you’d come to me, but my patience could only last so long. Venting to Nam night after night only helped so much. 
Two fucking years.
Two years of me watching you, two years of me making every other man on board afraid to get close to you, two years of me being a lesser version of myself...two years and you still never cracked. I have a fucking train to take care of, I couldn’t keep spending all of my time and energy just trying make you jealous enough to give him.
I was all set to let it go and let you do whatever the hell you wanted, until I walked past your train cart yesterday morning.
“Fuck Curtis...fuck me just like that,” you whimpered so softly, I thought I imagined it.
Looking into your room made me cum instantly. You were completely naked, eyes closed, head lulled back, and riding your pillow. You’d never looked so fucking hot before, and that was my name leaving your mouth. Not Edgar’s, mine. I no longer needed you to fucking say you were mine, but you’d just confirmed it.
“Gonna cum so soon, daddy! Fuck!”
I couldn’t get it out of my mind, and my frustration wouldn’t leave my body. Why the hell were you fighting something you so desperately wanted? 
Because you’re not a monster at all.
Even without my confession, you’d always known the truth. I could’ve saved Edgar, but I didn’t. I made a million excuses as to why I couldn’t, and everyone believed them. Everyone except you. Of course you wouldn’t allow yourself to be with me. Not without force. So, after I finished up everything I needed to take care, I got drunk. I had planned on being level headed, but you came in with that fucking attitude, and I fucking lost it.
How the hell were you annoyed with me? I made sure you had the best life, and you were still ungrateful. Once again, I could’ve saved Edgar, but you wouldn’t have left him. You would’ve married him and had his fucking his kids, and what right did he have to you? What right do any of the guys on this hell hole have to you? None of them will ever love you like I do, they’re not gonna satisfy you like I do, and they’re never gonna care for you like I do.
You just needed to be shown, so I decided that I was done waiting. I knew you’d put up a fight, but I didn’t expect it to get me so worked up. I didn’t mean to hit you so hard, but you were being difficult. Squeezing the stitches in my arm? You knew better than that. It wasn’t as easy as I’d hoped, but when you finally surrendered, it was more than worth it. You were a fucking dream, better than anything I’d ever had or imagined.
How could I feel bad about Edgar when I finally had you right where I wanted you? Where I’d always wanted you. I didn’t have to say all of things I did, but we both knew they were true. You’d always wanted me, he’d never truly satisfied you, and you’d always wanted me. Whatever your reasons were for choosing him over me didn’t matter anymore, because you finally admitted everything. Yeah, it bothered me that you never said ‘I love you’ back, but I also know I can’t have everything I want at once. I know you do, and when you’re ready, you’ll admit that too. 
“She’s not here,” Nam says softly, pulling me out of my thoughts as he enters.
“No, she’s back to hating me,” I mutter with an eye roll. “I did everything wrong.”
“Did you explain?”
“Nope, I did the exact opposite. I took what I wanted and expected her to fall in line.”
He lets out an irritated sigh as he runs a hand through his hair, “Curtis.”
“Yeah, I fucking know, alright?”
“What now?”
“I’ll go back and see her tonight. I’ll talk to her. She loves me, she just needs some encouragement to see it. To admit it.”
“Be gentle, Curtis. You get angry and you don’t think.”
He’s not wrong.
“Did you hurt her?”
“We both hurt each other, but it’s not like she didn’t like it.”
“Is that what happened to your arm?” he asks, pointing to the bruise.
I scoff with a nod, “yeah, little devil.”
“She’s tough, I’ll give her that,” he laughs, taking Kronole out of his pocket.
“Will you stop with that shit?!”
“You beat women, I get high,” he shrugs.
“I don’t beat women,” I quickly counter, trying to keep a lid on my anger.
I really didn’t mean to hit you so fucking hard. Fuck.
He just rolls his eyes, “Should I send Yona to look after her?”
“No, we have work to do and we need Yona and her ability. I’ll send one of the girls to check on her and give her food.”
I know I should be the one to do it but with how you were this morning, I know we’re basically right back where we started.
“Curtis, should I send for Y/N again?” Sansa asks, poking her head in, disdain dripping into her words.
I can see the pain in her eyes, but I can’t bring myself to feel bad. She may be a regular, but she always knew she wasn’t permanent. All of them know. 
“I’ll see to her later. Make sure no one comes in except Yona,” I instruct dismissively.
“Yes sir.”
Yeah, I’m an asshole, but I’m an asshole who’s in love with and made better by you. The sooner you see that, the sooner things will be as they should. In time, you’ll see.
In time, you’ll understand.
~~
Y/N’s P.O.V.
“Here, take mine,” a deep soft voice told you.
You looked over to your right to see that Curtis had taken a seat next to you, and he was holding out his protein block.
You shook your head and pushed it away, “oh no, it’s perfectly fine-”
“You’re hungry-”
“What will you eat?”
“I don’t like the way they taste,” he shrugged.
You laughed to yourself, “no one likes the way they taste.”
“Won’t haunt you like the taste of human flesh though.”
He had a point there.
“Go on, take it,” he offered again.
“You have to eat something. We’re all barely hanging on as it is.”
“Y/N-”
You offered him a half smile, “we can split it.”
He contemplated your offer before he nodded, “deal.”
You miss that Curtis. The one who showed remorse for his actions, cared about those around him, and was actually trying to help everyone and not just himself. Ever since Gilliam took him under his wing, there was an heir of arrogance to him, and it made you want him that much less. It got worse after Edgar got killed and Gilliam soon followed.
God, how could you still fuck him after his confession? If anything, that should’ve made you fight harder. Instead, in a sick way, it turned you on even more because it showed you just how much he wanted you. How much he’d do to make sure you’d always be his and his alone. 
Maybe being on the train for so damn long that it’s fucked with you more than you thought, or maybe you’re just that awful.
The servers have been trying to feed you all day, but the only thing you’ve consumed is alcohol. It’s the only thing that’ll keep demons and thoughts of self-hatred at bay. Plus, for as much as you shouldn’t, you do feel bad for Curtis. The man told you he loves you a handful of times last night, brought you to euphoric bliss time and time again, and you let him hold you close last night, just so you could ice him out today.
As much as you don’t want to believe that the mad man loves you, somewhere deep down inside, you know it’s true. A man doesn’t let the closest person he has to a best friend die over someone he doesn’t love. Yes, you knew Edgar could get on his nerves sometimes, but never enough for Curtis ever want something truly awful to happen to him. It’s not like you ever meant for things to become a sick and twisted games, but they had and the end result was the sweetest man you’d ever known getting killed.
All of this was your fault.
“You haven’t eaten today,” a soft voice rings out, stepping into your room.
“Please go, Curtis. You got what you wanted. Just go, I’m sure Sansa and the others will be happy to keep you company tonight.”
He sits down in front of you and takes your face in his hands, “I don’t love Sansa and the others.”
“Curtis-”
“Why have you been crying all day?”
You’re more than sure the look on your face screams, ‘really?’.
“It’s not like it was something you didn’t already know-”
“Stop being so fucking callous about it!”
“Why? I’d do it again, honey. I have no problem admitting that. If I had to do it all over again, I would without hesitation.”
“What the fuck is the matter with you?!”
“I love you, Y/N. I think I’ve made that pretty clear for some time now, and I’m not going to watch you be with some other man. I don’t give a fuck who that man is.”
“You can literally have whoever else you want-”
You yelp when he effortlessly picks you up and pulls you into his lap.
“The world could be the way it’s supposed to be and I still wouldn’t want anyone else. You were meant for me and I was meant for you. If people have to die for you to understand that, then so be it. I will never love anyone the way I love you, so stop thinking that this is just some fling to me,” he warns, his gaze on you tense and serious.
His words should make you afraid of him but, instead, they make you want him more than you did the night before.
“You don’t-”
“Who else do you want me to make disappear, hmm? How do I make you believe me?”
“Curtis...stop.”
“I love you.”
“That’s not love-”
“Why should I go about this the normal way? We’ve all had to fight to stay here, and I’m willing to fight for you. I will always fight for you because you’re mine, just like I’m yours. I love you.”
For now, you’ll just blame the alcohol as you lean in and kiss him softly. Just like the night before, he runs one of his hands through your hair and grips it tight as he deepens the kiss, his other arm wrapping around your waist and pulling you as close as possible.
He broods against your lips once you two break apart, “that’s right, baby. You’ll always be mine.”
“This isn’t right-” “Who gives a fuck about right and wrong when it feels this fucking good?”
“Curtis...”
“Just give into me,” he pleads before kissing you again, “give into me because you love me just as much as I love you.”
Once again, the fight leaves your body and you’re just giving into what you want. You kiss him deeply as your legs wrap around his waist, grinding against him. 
“That’s it honey,” he breathes with a moan, the tip of his nose ghosting over the outline of your cheek. “I won’t take anything you don’t wanna give me. Just like last night.”
You know good and damn well he’s saying that because last night he did force himself on you, but you both knew you were desperate for it. You both know you’ve been desperate for him for a while. It’s evident that he wants you to acknowledge that, but he’s gonna need to work a little harder for that. 
“If you truly love me, then show me,” you sigh as he bites and sucks on your neck. “Show me how much you need me to be yours.”
You must have awakened something feral in him because, instantly, he’s picking you up and standing up with almost no effort at all, and carrying you out of your room, quickly make his way towards his. Part of you wants to protest, because you’ve seen what he’s done with other women in his bed, but another part of you is desperate for it because it is his bed. Anyone else who was on it before you won’t ever matter again, because you’re all he needs.
He growls as he tosses you onto his bed, “take your fucking shirt off before I rip it off.”
You honestly don’t need much prompting. Between the amount of alcohol coursing through you, and the desire that you’ve been suppressing for years, you’re once again willing and ready to do anything that he wants. You whimper when he pulls his off and tosses it to the side, quickly getting to work on undoing his pants.
Yeah, you’re still sore from yesterday, but the pleasure always outweighs. You’ll take aspirin after.
“I thought I already fucking showed you,” he husks roughly, fitting your legs around his waist once on the bed and on his haunches. “I didn’t get my point across last night?”
You bite your lip and shake your head no, holding his gaze as you wrap your arms around him. 
He smirks as that devilish glint comes back to his eyes, “let me be firmer this time,” forcing you down on his cock.
“AH SHIT!”
He keeps a firm hold on your waist as he starts bouncing you up and down on his cock, “you’re mine, Y/N. Always have been and you always will be!”
You cry out as you lull your head back, “oh fuck, daddy!”
“Eyes on me, baby. Gonna make sure it sinks in this time,” he chuckles darkly.
Honestly, all you can do is hold on to him, and he doesn’t even make that easy. He spits on your cunt a few times before easily wrapping one arm behind your waist to keep you in place, and shamelessly slapping your clit with the other hand.
“Please....please!”
His condescending chuckle only makes you clench around him, “fucking pathetic.”
He dips down, the tip of his tongue lightly licking between your breasts and moaning as he licks up the sweat, before latching his mouth onto your right nipple and sucking on it as if it’s his favorite lollipop to exist.
You whimper, feeling safe in his strong hold, as you run a hand through his buzzed hair, “feels so good, daddy! The way you love me feels so good!”
Releasing your nipple with a ‘pop’, he looks up with brooding dark eyes, “and no one else will ever make it feel this good,” he promises.
Without warning, he starts massaging your clit with more pressure than you’re prepared for, and you’re screaming out his name as you make a mess between the both of you.
“So messy and all mine,” he praises, his voice strained as continues to fuck up into you. “Always been all mine, haven’t you?”
Once again, you’ve been turned into a mindlessly babbling toy.
“No answer?” he taunts, his breathing as he stops all together, laughing sadistically at your pathetic whimper. “Guess daddy still hasn’t made his point clear.”
He drops you down onto the bed, flips you over with ease, fixes your knees so your ass is propped in the air, before thrusting himself inside of you again.
“Aht!”
“You’ve always been mine, haven’t you?” he growls, fucking into hard and fast.
You just whimper into his pillow as claw at his bed, but he isn’t having that. Wrapping one arm around your waist and snaking it up between your breasts, he grips your throat while the other hand grips your hair tight, and he pulls you right.
“Use your fucking words,” he demands gruffly, fucking into you harder, “you’ve always been mine?”
“Y-yes!”
“Yes who?”
“Y-yes...y-y-yes daddy!”
“Always gonna be mine?”
“A-an-anything you w-want!”
He growls into your neck as you feel him spill into you, “fuck baby!”
Once again, there’s nothing going through your mind but fog and your body is exhausted. If he wants more from you, you’ll give it to him, but you can honestly fall asleep in his hold right now. He loosens his grip on your neck, and you take a deep breath, not even realizing how tight he’d been holding onto you. Lazily fucking you both through your high, he presses small, wet, open mouthed kisses along your neck.
His breath comes heavy and he sounds just as tired as you feel, “get the message this time?”
You nod as weakly attempt to fight off sleep, “mhm, you love me.”
The next question comes with a hint of fear, “do you believe me?”
“Mhm, yes.”
“Do you love me?”
The answer comes effortlessly, “yes Curtis.”
He’s gentle with you as he pulls out, growling as he watches the mix of your juices run down your thighs, and he lays you down. Once again, you wince when some fabric gently wipes over your extremely raw and sensitive flesh, and he gently hushes you. This time, when he gets in bed with you, you’re pulling him close and resting your head on his chest.
You’re too tired to fight it.
“I love you,” you repeat before effortlessly falling asleep.
~~
Once again, when you make up, you need a moment to adjust to your surroundings. The soreness is quicker to make your acquaintance this time, and you remember that you’re in Curtis’ room.
The very front of the train.
That’s when you realize you’re alone in his bed, and you’re slow to sit up and look around.
“I’m here,” he calls softly.
You look to the side and see him sitting across the room, sweatpants on only, hunched over, and resting his head on his hands.
“You should lay back down, I’m sure you’re sore.”
You keep your eyes on him as you slowly lay back down, “what’s wrong?”
He’s not wrong about you being sore. 
“Nothing-”
Scoffing as you prop yourself up on your elbow and rest your head on your hand, “you’re gonna start lying to me after the last two days we’ve spent together?” and he laughs softly.
“It doesn’t matter right now-”
“Curtis, what’s wrong?”
There’s a softness to his features, and it’s a softness you haven’t seen in a long time.
“I love you.”
You look down and play with the hem of the bed sheet.
“That’s the problem right there.”
“Curtis-” He sighs as he sits up, “I’m not complaining.”
“It’s not so easy for me, okay?”
“It was last night when you were drunk, and I fucking knew better. I knew better, but my emotions...” “There’s a lot that I have to come to terms with, and I’ve only had two days to do it.”
“Well, do you?” “Curtis-”
“It’s a simple yes or no question-”
“It’s not simple! I was with Edgar, and no matter how I may or may not have always felt about you, I did love him and you let him get killed. No, I’m not innocent in all of this, but he loved and trusted him and you betrayed him.”
“That was different-” “How? How am I supposed to know you won’t ever do something like that to me?”
“Because this is different! This isn’t even remotely close...since I laid eyes on you, I knew that you were meant for me, and I for you. I may have been 17, but I’d never been so sure of anything in my life. I still haven’t been,” he states, slightly hurt that you would even make a claim like that. “I know what I did was fucked up, that’s not lost on either of us, and I’ve done my best to show and prove to you that I’m sorry, because it wasn’t right. Edgar didn’t know, but you did. You knew and you felt the same for me.”
“Curtis-”
“Well you did, you can deny it all you want, but we both know it’s true.”
“It doesn’t matter-” “Well, why you’d pick him?”
You scowl and lay on your back, “you don’t want the honest answer to that question.” “I can handle it.” “Lets not-”
“Just tell me!’
“I really don’t think I need to, Curtis! There’s something wrong with you! Something in you is unhinged and it shows!” you snap, sitting up and facing him.
He sits back and lets out a heavy sigh, and it breaks your heart, but he’s the one who wants to know so bad. 
When he says nothing, you continue, “there’s something that flips a switch in you, and this darkness comes over you. You’re moody, argumentative, and violent. Anything can set it off and, while I get it to an extent, enough shit had happened and I didn’t want to deal with it. You would be so soft with me at times, but you could easily lose your temper with anyone else...with the exception of Gilliam. Edgar was kind, funny, and sweet. No, it wasn’t ideal, but I felt safe with him and I didn’t have to worry about him losing his shit on me. So yes, I had feelings for you, but I chose him. I know you took him under your wing out of guilt, but you were also jealous. The more he trusted you, the more you took advantage of that. It made me resent him. Then, when he went off with you for the uprising, I knew he wasn’t coming back. You wouldn’t let him.”
You can see the anger in his eyes, but he knows that he can’t call you a liar. Everything you’re saying is true and he’s not about to try and make a fool out of you.
“I did it for you,” he responds after a moment. “You don’t have to believe it, and I know you didn’t see it, but I did it for you. I’ve always wanted to keep you safe, take care of you, and have you by my side. Everything I’ve done has been for you, and while some of it has been less than humane, I’d do it again if it meant you could be happy. If it means you can have a better life, I’ll do it, and I don’t care who I have to hurt.”
“Curtis-”
“I don’t care how crazy any of it sounds, because you have to be crazy to survive in this world. I’d do anything to give you a better life and see you happy. I love you, Y/N,” he tells you softly and sincerely.
You shouldn’t feel an overwhelming amount or love and joy for him, but that doesn’t stop it from washing over you. Is there a shrink on this fucking train, because you both need your fucking heads examined.
“I’ll ask you again, do you love me?”
Slipping out before you have a chance to stop it, “yes. Yes Curtis, I love you.”
Your heart swells at the small smile that comes to his face, as he finally gets up and makes his way back to the bed, and gets in next to you. You ignore the shameful amount of guilt that overcomes you, because what happened in the past can’t be changed. All that counts is right now and the future you and Curtis will create together. 
You rest your head on his chest and make little circles it, “how are you so sure, Curtis?”
“So sure of what?” he asks, stroking your shoulder and finally relaxing.
“That you love me. How do you know it’s not just an overwhelming sense of lust?”
He laughs to himself and kisses the top of your head, “because when all the fog in my mind settles, there’s still a burning desire for you in my heart. A burning desire to protect you, make you happy, hear your voice, see you smile, and to love you until there’s no breath left in my body. When the fog clears, there’s always a desire to love you with everything I have in me.”
Pressing a soft kiss to his chest, you look up at him, “I’m sorry it took me so long to finally get here.”
“You don’t have to say you’re sorry, just promise to never leave.”
“I promise.”
“I love you, honey.”
“I love you, Curtis.” 
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kankuroplease · 2 months
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how would the uchiha brothers take care of their pregnant wives?🤰💕
Their pregnant spouses would be in good, or at least caring, hands (In there own ways).
BUT they also aren’t modern men, so these HC will be sort💀
Madara
She doesn’t have to do anything, or more like she can’t do anything he deems too dangerous or stressful
Gets her a personal maid to do all the house cleaning and wait on her
Scares the unborn baby into believing by talking to it. It hurts his feelings a bit that the little thing does that, but if his wife is relived to stop being kicked while she’s trying to sleep. He guesses it’s a bonus
If she so much as coughs wrong she’s being taken to be examined by the best midwife the Uchiha have to offer
He’s gentler with his words and actions towards her. It’s not even intentional, he just softens up a bit as the pregnancy progresses
Makes sure she gets first pick of crops and other goods as his child and future heir deserves the best
After hearing her complaints about feeling the weight of her bump, he’d help her wrap a sarashi in a way that could help support it better
Izuna
He wouldn’t give her special treatment, at least not right away. Many people have carried children, so it’s not something worth fussing over in his eyes
He won’t have as many harsh words because he’s not good with crying and once one of his usual sarcastic jokes makes her cry, he’ll be on better behavior
he’ll help her by washing her feet for her and her back
Makes her wagashi to have with her tea did he learn how to make up for upsetting her? Yes
Inari
She’s carrying his child and he will make sure she stays happy and comfortable
Making sure she’s well fed and getting proper rest are his top priority
Unfortunately and fortunately for her, he knows medicine. Which means he’s got some bitter tasting cure-alls for any aliment she may be feeling
Picks fresh flowers for their home and tries his best to cook more often for her
Always on the lookout for for crafts she might enjoy/can be content with doing that isn’t strenuous
Kota
She is now officially the most precious woman in the world and he gets sympathy symptoms 💀
She’s nauseous? He’s nauseous, but trying to help her more than himself will throw up if she does tho
He does a lot of hovering. Mostly because if she’s his wife, she’s most likely as stubborn as him and could be feeling faint and not say anything. But also this whole pregnancy thing has him feeling on edge
She’ll have trusted bodyguard and a poison tester. Why would anyone want to poison his wife? He doesn’t know, but they wouldn’t get the chance to
Tenko
He’s very curious about the pregnancy, like yes; he really wanted this and is excited, but now that it’s actually happening, now what?
It wouldn’t hit him that she is really pregnant until her stomach begins swelling. Then he’s somehow even more excited
Anything she wants, she’ll get. No limits, Unless it’s seasonal. Even then he’d try to find someone who has a dried version of it
Thinks her new waddle is the cutest thing so of course he takes her on walks
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kdj-225 · 9 months
Note
Kdj trying to give hsy and yjh flowers for valentines day hehe
i decided to make it White Day so it made more sense, culture-wise! 💜hope you like it!🥰 ===
※DO NOT REPOST / HOST MY WORK ON OTHER APPS OR SITES
"What's this?"
Han Sooyoung directed a wary look his way, as though he came with poison instead of a gift in the form of flowers.
Kim Dokja smiled.
In truth, He’d much rather have Han Sooyoung make fun of him than to have this moment extend for longer than it should. He'd only thought to give her flowers because of the abominable guilt in his chest ever since Yoo Sangah thought to give him handmade chocolates on Valentine's day—that she'd worked on with his mother and Yoo Joonghyuk, of all people, which made his guilt grow even worse.
He's not had to celebrate White day—or any day at all, really—in his entire life, so he ought to be forgiven for not even thinking about it.
Alas.
How ungrateful would it be to not even give flowers, when they've rewritten worlds for him?
He told her, “What do you think?”
"Is this a threat in flower language?" Han Sooyoung asked back, squinting at the bouquet in his hand. "Hydrangea symbolize arrogance—"
"You're talking about the white ones," Dokja sighed, shaking the bouquet of purple hydrangea in his hold. "Just accept them and throw them away if you don't like them."
Seeming to take those words as a threat, Han Sooyoung swiped the bouquet from his hand with a harrumph. "It's a sad excuse for a bouquet, but I'll forgive you. You've never been a romantic, after all."
"Excuse me?"
She idly flicked a finger at one of the flowers in her bouquet. "What did you give Yoo Joonghyuk?"
He frowned, not having expected that question. While it's true that he'd left the man a little something (what with how he'd also deliberately made Dokja's favorite food on Valentine's day), that didn't mean it's something to assume as a certainty. They're both men, after all, and even if he respects those who don't bother with the gender expectations for either holiday, it's not like they're together in that way for it to be expected of him.
And so, he asked, "Who said I gave him anything?"
She raised a brow at him in disbelief.
He smiled back, unfazed.
"Delphinium."
The voice that spoke came from behind him, with a depth and firmness that left no room for argument. Such was the case, and yet, Kim Dokja was familiar enough with the voice’s owner to stand his ground regardless.
"Huh? Delphinium," Han Sooyoung muttered, bouquet to her chest and hand to her chin as she thought. "Doesn't that mean joy? Or something along those lines."
"Why would you assume that the flowers are from me?" Dokja asked, turning to look at Yoo Joonghyuk. It's not like the flowers had his name on them, and he'd deliberately ensured that no one was there when he left them at his doorstep.
"Biyoo told me."
His smile faltered. He knew that she still had the ability to broadcast things as they happened in real-time, but he hadn't thought she'd betray him like this. "Ah."
"Wow, you really thought you could lie to our faces, huh?"
"...let's just leave it at that."
"How about we don't?"
"Han Sooyoung..."
She grinned, eyes cat-like and grin manic. "In fact, let's look up the meanings of the flowers right now!"
"I don't need to be present for this—"
A hand grabbed onto his shoulder and forced him to sit before he could escape.
Han Sooyoung, unperturbed by Yoo Joonghyuk's show of force, said idly, "Now, let's see..."
He hoped the ground would swallow him whole. Even if just today, even if it was improbable, he'd really appreciate it if the universe could grant him this one moment of luck.
"Here we go, purple hydrangea!" Sooyoung crowed, waving her phone at (an oddly interested) Yoo Joonghyuk.
Of all times, why now?
“Pride, royalty, gratefulness,” Sooyoung trailed off, until her voice softened into something he barely recognized. “Understanding. Huh.”
He cleared his throat. Though part of him was curious at how she’d look, sounding as gentle as she did, he wasn’t curious enough to risk embarrassing himself with having her see his own expression in full—more so when he said, “You understand me best as my favorite writer, after all.”
“And Delphinium?” Yoo Joonghyuk asked.
“Hm…ah, here we go.”
Dokja closed his eyes.
“I was right about it being related to joy,” Sooyoung explained. “In a way…it’s a bouquet that wishes for your happiness.”
Dokja covered his face with both of his hands.
“Wow. You absolute sap,” Sooyoung said, laughing.
“Please…”
“Hm.” Yoo Joonghyuk huffed, large hand squeezing at his shoulder. Dokja refused to ponder on the strength (or lack thereof) in his grip. “I see you still refuse to communicate your intentions directly.”
“Can I go now?”
“No.” “Nah.”
Damn it.
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dowagersqueen · 3 months
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"these writers are annoying because the actual first crack in aemond & alicent relationship should have been alicent toasting rhaenyra, saying she will make a fine queen despite still no consequences for what happened to him and even ewan underlined this, that a crime went unpunished and that aemond's world became unbalanced because of this and then you have alicent being like 'forget all that, rhaenyra you will make a fine queen'. "
you're so right about this but it's very clear the writers hadn't thought of this when they wrote the dinner scene otherwise we would've had Aemond's reaction to Alicent's toast but we didnt so it's a sure bet the first crack in their relationship is going to be Luke's death. But even that will probably consist of Alicent being mad on behalf of Rhaenyra and her pain as a mother who had just unfairly lost her son and how dare Aemond do that do her. I know some will point out book!Alicent being mad at book!Aemond for killing Luke but that was because his actions started a war and she knew there was no going back from that, but not because she felt anything for Rhaenyra.
Look, I have no problems with the writers making non-canon ships canon in the show (or any other changes to the source material) but something like Rh*enicent is too disruptive and is detrimental to the whole story, but especially to Alicent since they're just taking away her whole agency and ambitions in the name of a friendship (or more than that even) that should've never happened to begin with. They're basically making Alicent the victim of the men around her (her father and sons) and the decisions they are making and to some degree the same can be said for Rhaenyra since they can pin most bad things on Daemon for example.
yeah, there's plenty of stories that they can adapt where a ship like rhaen*cent would make sense and even enrich the story, but this is not it especially because it's making alicent as a character unrecognizable. she goes from someone who is taken as wife to provide more heirs for the king and then decides her children are more important than the said king's wish to crown his daughter from his first marriage to someone who by the end of the story might want to poison the very son she put on the throne?
while the book underlines that the war starts after luke's death saying that the war of ravens ended and the war of fire and blood began, it was clear a war was coming anyway because even in the show, with a softened rhaenyra, alicent says from the first moment that neither she or daemon will publicly bend the knee to aegon.
so what i'm saying is that we took this character who had an agency in saying 'fuck that' after giving the king four children, all legitimate, and being ignored, and deciding to put her children above the king's wishes and do as she wanted to this character who omg!! just found out there's a plot to crown her son and omg!! she's only participating in it because her very ill, half rotting husband blabered something to her on his death bed.
the 'you are the challenge, aegon' speech forgotten, even though it happened BEFORE aemond's eyes was taken, BEFORE laenor 'died' under very suspicious circumstances, BEFORE vaemond was killed. so suddenly all her worries and her care for her children are gone and she's not doing ONE thing about it and even more than that, she's out here at the same table as aemond saying 'rhaenyra, you will make a fine queen'.... these writers are ridiculous.
at the end of the day alicent's character suffers more from this writing then rhaenyra. because they turned her into this woman who supposedly hates everything about her life and just stands there hoping, praying rhaenyra will glance at her once so she can melt on the spot and say thank you my queen. meanwhile rhaenyra had laenor as a husband who she was friendly with, harwin the father of her first three children and even daemon, who although toxic was a significant part of her life in all those years she lived. she had experiences and people in her life outside of alicent and alicent isn't nearly as central to her.
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cosette141 · 2 years
Text
Dreamshade (OUAT fanfic) | Additional Ending
Fandom: Once Upon A Time
Author: cosette141
Words: 3k (this chapter) | 16k total
Summary: (s3A, "Good Form" canon divergence) Instead of David getting hit with the poisoned arrow, it's Hook. Now it's up to David to get Hook to Dead Man's Peak before Dreamshade takes Hook's life, and maybe learn, perhaps too late, that Hook is far more than just a pirate. h/c Captain Charming
AO3 (additional ending link) | AO3 (Dreamshade story link from beginning)
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Additional Ending: The Cure to Dreamshade (is You) (under the cut!)
a/n: Lol so I had thought this story was over, but I was asked by many people to continue this story so that Hook got safely back to Storybrooke. So, I spent the past 3 hours writing this, which is way less time than I usually spend agonizing over a chapter, so if it's just ehh, that's why lol. But either way, here's your closure xD
The idea for how Hook is saved came from @undercaffinatednightmare and @jonesfandomfanatic, I hope I did it justice!
Okay, NOW here is the last chapter and epilogue of Dreamshade lmao.
~cosette141
They'd saved Henry.
The bloody heroes had defeated Pan, and saved Henry.
It was something Hook still couldn't quite fathom; he had yet to see any of them fail, and had grown to wonder if they ever could.
However, as the lot of them had returned to the ship, all smiles and relief, reunited with the lad, Hook had paused at the foot of the gangplank, unable to convince himself to board.
Because it seemed that he may have just found the one thing these heroes will fail to do.
And that, was to save him.
Ever since the Neverland water had cured him, since his and David's journey to Dead Man's Peak, things had been drastically different among them.
Firstly, and most notably, between himself and David.
Not only had David stopped fighting him on which paths to take and which areas to avoid, David had quite literally shifted leadership directly and solely to Hook.
And though Hook was used to being a leader, being the Captain of his crew, he was respected out of his men's fear.
It's been a very, very long time since he'd led any people by their choice of him.
The last time he'd felt that way, was when Liam was still alive, and for a short time after his death.
He and David were now past having an understanding with each other; they did feel like mates.
It had taken a week after Dead Man's Peak to save Henry, and more than one of those nights, David and Hook had shared a shift watching over the others, and slowly, mostly to pass the time, had started to talk.
The fact that David had willingly wanted to know more about him, not just to keep him awake for fear of him dying like he had that night, was still something that touched and stunned Hook all the same.
The change hadn't stopped with David, however.
The change between himself and Emma was something else entirely.
The bitter edge to Emma had very much eroded.
But Hook knew it wasn't her demeanor that had softened; it was the walls tumbling down one by one.
Ever since their kiss all those nights ago, she'd always seemed to gravitate closer to him. So far, that kiss had been a one-time thing, but mostly due to her fear for her boy taking precedence. And Hook had quite the feeling that, if they were to find a way to save him, they'd certainly have a second time. He and Emma had fought together with every other danger they'd faced, just like they had fought the giant on the Beanstalk, and just like how her parents fought. In sync, in a way of protecting the other.
The nights that Hook's and David's shifts didn't align, his and Emma's did.
And, slowly, she and he began to talk.
Gods, he never once would have believed that he could be more excited about the fact that a woman was talking and opening up to him more than he would be to wake up next to her.
However, that was an excitement all on its own, but now, standing here on the edge of his worst nightmare and his brightest dream…
He knew, with a coldness in his chest, that it would never happen.
Swallowing hard, something terribly painful in Hook's chest as he listened to the joy on deck, of Emma, her boy, and the Lost Boys they were also bringing back to Storybrooke.
Hook shut his eyes, remembering saving Henry.
Hook never would have thought that he'd be relieved to see the Crocodile.
Pan had been moments from taking Henry's heart, Hook and Emma immobilized by the demon's magic, when the Crocodile had reappeared for the first time since he'd left their group when they'd arrived in Neverland.
With some long-winded speech about destroying Pan to save Baelfire's son, as his way of making up for past mistakes, Rumplestiltskin had used one of Pan's own weapons against him:
Dreamshade.
Right through his chest.
Pan had fallen, releasing himself and Emma. Emma had run to her boy, the Crocodile to replace the boy's heart, and Hook found himself watching Pan seconds from death.
"At least I know," gasped Pan, "that you aren't far behind."
Hook's eyes narrowed.
"I know you were poisoned, too," drawled Pan through a tight grimace. "You know as well as I do.. th-that you won't leave here alive." Something dark and inhuman in his eyes, he hissed with his last breath, "There is no cure to Dreamshade. Not for you."
Pan's body shuddered, then disintegrated into black ash that wisped into nothing in the air.
"Hook…"
Hook blinked, finding David on the gangplank, worried eyes on him.
Like he was realizing exactly what Hook had realized.
He wasn't going to live.
Hook smiled, but there was no warmth, no joy. "You saved your grandson. We succeeded."
David didn't smile. "No, we haven't succeeded. Not yet."
"Mate," breathed Hook, that pain in his chest burning so similarly to Dreamshade. "Thank you for… trying, but…" His voice trailed off, his chest hurting worse.
David's expression was tortured.
Footsteps jogged down the gangplank suddenly, revealing Emma. "What are you guys waiting for?" she asked, that smile still on her face. Relief. Happiness. So free.
It only made Hook's chest hurt worse.
She stopped beside him, so close to him, and it made Hook's eyes burn because why did he have to win her heart right before Dreamshade took his?
Emma seemed to sense the tension. Looking between them, her smile faltering, she said, "What?"
David looked at Hook, and Hook shut his eyes.
He hadn't wanted to tell her.
He hadn't bloody wanted to tell her.
Their silence stretched too long, and Emma crossed her arms. "Okay, you two have been… I don't know. There's something you're not telling me and I want to know what it is."
Hook's tortured gaze found Emma's hard one. As much as he didn't want her to know, he didn't want to lie to her.
He couldn't lie to her.
So, he took a heavy breath, and forced the words out to say, "I'm… I was… poisoned." He swallowed hard as Emma's eyes widened. "With… Dreamshade," he whispered.
"Wh—what? When?" she exclaimed, suddenly grabbing at his jacket, as if trying to find the injury, and Hook only felt more pain at how easily she has come to touch him.
Gently, he took her hand from his vest into his own to stop her. "I'm in no immediate danger," he said haltingly.
Emma's eyes snapped to his.
He was stunned to find the amount of panic in them.
"What are you talking about, Hook?" she demanded breathlessly.
Sighing wearily, Hook relented, "Our second night here, I… I was nicked by a Lost Boy's arrow." Emma's eyes widened even more. "I was… fading," he said, unevenly.
Emma's mind seemed to click the pieces together in seconds. "Those… those days you were drunk?"
"Not drunk, love," he whispered hollowly, eyes burning.
"But…" Her eyes found his again. He felt her free hand grab his jacket unconsciously. "But you look fine," she whispered.
"Aye…" Looking at David, who's expression was even more tortured, he looked back at Emma. "Your father… learned of my situation."
"Hook said there was this water that could save him," said David, "so… so that's where we went that night."
Emma's eyes slowly dragged from her father to Hook. Her hand released Hook's jacket in a way that felt like a physical blow. "You lied to me?"
Hook's eyes burned.
"Emma—" began David.
Hook couldn't speak.
"How could you have kept that to yourself?" exclaimed Emma. "You're telling me you were dying and you weren't even going to tell us?"
She said us, but Hook heard me.
"Emma, love, I—" began Hook, eyes burning hotter.
"He did it for you, Emma!"
Emma and Hook both looked at David.
"What?" breathed Emma.
"He did it for you," said David, with a little panicked heat in his voice. "Look, Hook didn't want you to know, but—"
"Mate—" began Hook warningly, but David didn't stop.
"—the arrow that hit Hook was the one that almost hit you." finished David.
Emma froze.
Slowly, she looked at Hook.
"What?" she asked in a tiny voice.
Feeling unbearable emotional pain, Hook said reluctantly, "I wasn't fast enough."
Emma stumbled back a step. "Wait," she breathed. "So," she said hollowly, "you almost died… saving me?"
When Hook couldn't speak, David said, "Yes."
Emma looked at Hook, like the gesture was something she couldn't understand.
It reminded him of how he'd felt when David had saved him.
Seeming to shake herself out of the shock, Emma said, "B-But you're healed now." It was phrased like a very shaky fact.
Which was exactly what it was.
Taking a heavy breath, Hook said, "Not… entirely. The water David used to heal me only works in Neverland."
His unsaid words were painfully loud.
Emma's brows kneaded together in a way that looked lost. "So… if you leave…"
His voice no more than a whisper, Hook confirmed, "I'll die."
The three of them stood in the quietest silence Hook has ever heard.
"What's the hold up?"
Regina's annoyed voice cut through that silence, making the three of them flinch.
But soon, Regina and Snow were approaching.
"What are you guys doing?" asked Snow.
When Emma and Hook were quiet, David said, "Long story short, Hook was poisoned with Dreamshade and healed with water that only heals him in Neverland."
At Regina's surprise and Snow's gasp, David looked at Hook. Determination in his eyes, he said, "I promised we would save you, Hook, and that's what we're going to do." As if just thinking it— "That's it! Where's Gold?"
"Listening to the pirate's sob story."
Everyone snapped around to see the Crocodile leaning boredly against the side of the ship on deck.
David strode up to him, protective anger narrowing his eyes. "There's got to be something we can do to save him."
"As enticing as it would be to save the pirate's pathetic life," drawled the Crocodile, "ever since he poisoned me with Dreamshade, I've done my share of research on the subject."
"And?" demanded David.
"And," he said, eyes narrowing, "there might be a way to save him."
"What is it?" breathed Emma, in a voice Hook had only heard her use when they'd been looking for Henry.
Rolling his eyes, the Crocodile said, "There's a… potion I could concoct that would cure him. But it is back in my shop."
David's head snapped up. "What if we took some of that healing water with us? It could keep him alive until you make the potion?"
"I believe so," mused the Crocodile. "You're lucky, pirate, that I am in a giving mood."
Hook couldn't manage to glare.
There was a chance.
There was a chance.
"Good," said David, a relieved smile at his lips. Smiling at Hook, he said, "Got time for one more trip to Dead Guy Mountain?"
Hook smiled.
-.-.-.
The journey to and from Dead Man's Peak—including Emma this time—took far less time than it had a week ago.
But soon, they were all aboard the Jolly Roger, using Tink's pixie dust to fly back home.
The Neverland Water was now in Hook's flask, close enough to him he could feel its power radiating from it.
He was standing beside Emma and David at the helm as they crossed realms, Storybrooke's shore in the distance.
And it felt so, eerily similar, to when he'd once stood here with Liam.
When he had lost Liam.
Hook felt Emma's fingers in his, which hadn't left the entire night.
He felt David's concerned gaze on him.
Hook released Emma's hand only to take the wheel as the ship slowly descended from the sky to the water.
Everyone on deck stumbled with the landing, and Hook felt Emma's hand grab his forearm.
And Hook felt a paralyzing fear, his head snapping up.
They weren't in Neverland anymore.
Flashes of Liam dying rose sharply.
"Hook?"
Emma and David had spoken his name at once.
Hook swallowed as the ship settled.
Just as his nerves did.
He gave them a shaky smile. "I'm all right."
"You sure?" asked Emma.
"Aye," he said, smiling more at her concern. "Dreamshade took my brother the moment we landed in foreign waters." He breathed in, shutting his eyes with relief, feeling the water working to protect him. "I'm all right," he repeated, looking at her.
David clapped a hand on his shoulder. "Good. Let's make sure you stay that way."
-.-.-.-.
Once they'd docked and everyone dispersed into the cheering Storybrooke crowd, Emma had left Henry with Regina and she and David had practically dragged Hook to the Crocodile's shop, for the demon had disappeared quickly after returning home.
Kicking open the door, David called, "Gold! Is it ready?"
The Crocodile was standing behind the counter of his shop, hands clasped, smiling at them.
David's brows kneaded. "Where's the potion? Aren't you making it?"
The Crocodile smiled more. But it was sinister. "There is no potion to cure Dreamshade."
The three of them froze.
"But you said—" began David.
"I lied." said the Crocodile with another grin.
Hook felt every hope disappear in an instant.
"Gold—" said Emma in a shaky voice that she intended to be strong.
"Why the hell would you lie?" demanded David.
"The question," he said, eyes narrowing, "is more, why would I save him?" The evil in his smile growing, he said, "He took my wife and hurt my Belle. It was simply a serendipitous situation. I can kill him without lifting a finger." He grinned again. "But I can speed it up."
He flicked his wrist, and suddenly—
—Hook's flask appeared in the Crocodile's hand.
The effect was instant.
Hook gasped at the pain in his side, the shock of it buckling his legs.
"Hook!"
He felt Emma catch him before he hit the ground, slowly helping him to the ground.
"Hook," whispered Emma, a tear slipping down her cheek. "Killian," she whispered.
Knees hit the ground on Hook's other side—David. "Hook!"
But Hook's panic suddenly paused.
Because although his side hurt, it didn't burn.
With shaking fingers, he yanked up his shirt.
And there, was the slice from the arrow.
However…
It wasn't black.
"It's not there," breathed David. "The Dreamshade. It's gone!"
"Impossible," whispered Hook, his heart still slamming in his chest.
But there was nothing more than a cut.
No burn.
No Dreamshade.
"No!"
And suddenly the Crocodile was glaring at them, furious.
"There should be no way for you to have survived that," he growled. "The only cure to Dreamshade is trading lives with the candle or True Love! None of which you have!"
The Crocodile stalked toward him, hand lifted as if in attack, but Emma stood quickly, with fury of her own, and her hands suddenly glowed white, and a blast shot from her fingers, crashing the Crocodile into the counter, leaving him unmoving in the broken glass and debris.
"That's my girl," said David with a grin.
Emma stared at her hands, like she hadn't meant to do that.
But also, wasn't too upset about it.
Hook sat up, and Emma knelt next to him. "Are you okay?"
"I think so," he said. "Yet I haven't the faintest idea why."
"Gold…" said David. "What he just said…" He looked between Hook and Emma.
And again.
And smiled.
And suddenly, Hook understood.
"The only thing able to cure Dreamshade is trading lives with the candle or True Love!"
Hook's eyes snapped to Emma's.
"You kissed me," he breathed.
"What?" she said, brows shooting up.
"Emma, after I was healed by the water that night… you kissed me."
That tingle at his lips when she'd kissed him.
That feeling that had felt more euphoric than the water.
It wasn't just chemistry.
It was True Love's Kiss.
"Wait," said Emma suddenly. "You… you mean..?"
"Aye," he said with a grin.
And not a moment later, she was kissing him again.
His eyes shut, that euphoria sent through him once again.
But they pulled away quickly, for David was right beside them, and Hook saw Emma smile.
The three of them stood, giving one more look to the unconscious Crocodile before walking outside.
Emma pulled him into her arms. "Don't scare me like that," she whispered.
David clapped a hand on Hook's shoulder, giving him a little squeeze. "Glad you're okay.
"Mate," said Hook. "David." He smiled. "Thank you. For… everything."
Emma smiled at them. "I still can't believe you saved Hook," she said to her father. "You kinda seemed like the last person to do that when we got to Neverland."
David looked at Hook, letting out a breath, a hint of a smile at his lips. "He saved you. The least I could do was save him."
But he and Hook both knew, that his reasons for saving Hook had only piled up the longer their journey had gone.
"Well, you've developed quite the bromance," joked Emma, tightening her arms around Hook with a grin.
"Bromance?" echoed Hook confusedly.
"I'll explain it to you later," said David with a grin. "I'll go tell Snow everything's all good. Meet us at Granny's later, we'll celebrate many things," he said with another smile.
Emma and he smiled as he left, and she pressed her forehead to Hook's. "You saved me," she whispered.
But he smiled, his hand holding her face gently, like he knew he would for the rest of his days, and he whispered, "And you saved me."
His True Love.
And from the look in her eyes now, she was just as happy about that news as he was.
A trip back to Neverland, that had seemed like a nightmare, had now given him a brother, some sort of a "bromance", and Emma.
It had given him something even more than that.
Something he thought he'd never have again.
Something that made his eyes burn with a good kind of hurt.
It had given him a family.
And it had brought him home.
-.-.-.
the actual end. lol.
tag list: @kmomof4 @justanother-unluckysoul @klynn-stormz @stahlop @ilovemesomekillianjones @hookmecaptain @tiganasummertree @jadehowlettthewolf @jonesfandomfanatic @anmylica @pirateprincessofpizza @stahlop @snowbellewells @eddisfargo @motherkatereloyshipper @killian-whump @deckerstarblanche @cocohook38 @spartanguard
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rosemary-morgan · 2 years
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Witcher Gaetan x F.Reader - Temptress (Last Part) +18
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(Pictures are not mine! Found on Pinterest/Google - Collage made by myself)
Many thanks to @fangirl-ramblings 🖤 she has been beta reading for me 🌹
Hope you’ll enjoy it, my lovely bees 🐝🧡
Read Part 1 here 👈
Summary:  ‘Life was going on... but I only started living once you came into it’ 
Warning: Violence, blood, NSFW
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Temptress (Last Part) +18
The moment when Y/N thought there is no escape for her, she was freed from the grips of the two men. It all happened so fast, as the two men were already lying lifeless on the ground. Blood and rain mixed with the muddy ground, and in terror Y/N looked up at the man who was supposed to murder her just a few days ago. It was the Witcher with his ice-cold eyes. Gaetan looked down at the young woman and clearly saw the fear in her eyes. But she would not have to be afraid of him. He was here to protect her. She was the victim in this dirty business. The Witcher turned his gaze away from Y/N and toward the priest. Finding him here did not surprise Gaetan and that only proved that Nuberus was the real monster. "Go back to your house and stay there!" The words of the cat were addressed to the young woman, but she could not move an inch. She was in shock and unable to do anything. Gaetan had warned her. He didn't want her to see any more cruelty, but he has no choise. The Witcher had to make a decision. End the priest's life here and now and scare the young woman even more, or spare the life of this poisonous snake and let them continue their cruel deeds. Actually, there was only one option and yet he did not want to put Y/N through any more. "Leave her alone, priest. Leave, or you'll end up just like your friends!" The cat did not like the fact that the priest gave the girl a cold and hateful look at all. With a graceful movement of his sword, Gaetan made a cut across the face of the priest, so that his right eye was affected. Nuberus cried out in pain, pressing his hand against the heavily bleeding area. "Don't you ever forget this night, priest. No woman shall ever again be molested by your disgusting looks!" Immediately Y/N's tormentor ran away, and Gaetan kept his eyes on him until he was lost in the darkness of the night. He would be dealt with by the Witcher another time. That much was certain. The young man turned his gaze to the young woman, but for now he remained standing in place. The rain fell mercilessly on them both. Her white nightgown had already soaked with water and stuck to her like a second skin. She wore nothing underneath and this was a look he would more than welcome if the situation were different. But at the moment there was neither time nor place to think of intimacies. Y/N made no move to stir. Therefore, the cat decided to take this into his own hands and went to the woman, who was sitting on the floor and sobbing softly. He reached under her knees and lifted her up on his strong arms. Y/N made no sound. There was no doubt that she was in shock. Gaetan's cold expression softened at the sight of her. Even more so when she wrapped her trembling hands around his neck, burying her face in the crook of his neck. "It's all right. It's over." The Witcher carried her back to her home and sat her down at the dining table. Then Gaetan knelt in front of her and looked into her pretty face that still showed fear. "It's over. These men will harm you no more." Gaetan gave her that as a promise. From now on she could feel safe, because as soon as he would cut the head of the priest, he would no longer be able to spread lies among people. Why was he doing all this? Gaetan did not know himself. Maybe because for the first time in his life since he was a Witcher, he saw the great need of a human being? A human being who had been treated badly. Today, for the first time, he felt he was protecting an innocent person. He had met many ungrateful and in some cases evil people, but Y/N was a great exception. Carefully Gaetan lifted his hand and brushed a wet strand from her face, whereupon she just looked at him silently. With her big, bright green eyes. The corners of Gaetan's mouth lifted a little, smiling tentatively at her. This night, neither of the two spoke another word and let the hours pass silently between them. Until at some point Y/N fell asleep from exhaustion and Gaetan wrapped her in a warm blanket, lifting her in his strong arms and carrying her to her bedroom, where she could rest. The Witcher stayed with her all night, his body longing not for sleep but to protect this sweet creature. Only as the first rays of the sun announced the new day did the young Witcher leave the sleeping woman. But he did not leave without leaving her something. Something that she deserved more than himself.
Y/N awoke after a restful sleep, wondering how she had been able to sleep so peacefully and relaxed. But the presence of the Witcher had given her an incredible amount of peace, even if she had to admit that he was not exactly a harmless man. Yet she also knew that he could have seriously hurt her if that had been his intention. But he hadn't. No. He had taken care of her, given her inner peace. But when Y/N checked the house for him that morning, he was nowhere to be seen. With the blanket tucked tightly around her shoulders. Now she had not even been able to thank him. She returned to her bedroom and what she hadn't noticed earlier now caught her eye very noticeably. A small, brown pouch lay on her dressing table. She frowned questioningly as she finally reached for the small pouch and opened it. Inside was money. A lot of money and her eyes became big. She saw a small note that must have been under the bag. 'Start a new life - Gaetan' Gaetan, was his name. She pressed the piece of paper to her chest and tears filled her eyes. "Thank you..."
  ♦♦♦♦ 
Six months had passed since her last encounter with the witcher Gaetan. Not a day had passed without her thinking of him. Thanks to his generous donation, Y/N  had been able to leave the north and had emigrated to the south. To the land of wine and passion. The talk was of Toussaint - a marvelous kingdom. There was peace and tranquility in this land. The war that raged in the north seemed to be forgotten and yet Y/N 's thoughts were often with the people who were not as fortunate as she was. She lived in a cozy cottage. A bit bigger than her home in the north, but affordable. Her hostess was an elderly lady who didn't charge much rent. The neighbors had welcomed her warmly as a newcomer and she had made a few friends. The people here might be fancy and noble, but many of them were so friendly. She wondered if it was because of the climate that people here were extremely kind? Or the wine? Or maybe both? Y/N  was sitting by the lake on this mild summer evening and had dipped her feet into the water to cool off a bit. Her thoughts kept turning to the young witcher and she wondered how he was doing and where his journey had taken him. Y/N  would like to meet him again, at least to be able to express her thanks to him. If it had not been for him, she would not have survived that terrible night and God only knew what those men would have done to her. Y/N  would soon have the opportunity to thank the witcher in person. It happened a few weeks later. The young woman was standing in her kitchen, just about to bake a delicious apple pie, when there was a knock at her front door. It was a tentative knock at first, but then stronger and more demanding. "Hello?" Unsure of whether to open the door or not, Y/N  left the kitchen and approached the front door. As she slowly walked toward it, she wiped excess dough from her hands with a lightly dampened towel. "Who is it?" But no one answered her, and the knocking became more and more energetic. She was overcome with the feeling that she should not hesitate long and that someone urgently needed help. When she finally opened the door, the words stuck in her throat. It was none other than the witcher who had saved her life. Gaetan. "It's you!" She could hardly believe her eyes, but she didn't have the time to ask him what had brought him here; for Gaetan was badly injured and barely keeping himself on his feet. He leaned heavily exhausted against the door, his own disbelievingly gaze directed towards the young woman. The witcher had not expected her either, but he was all the more pleased about it. The young woman would hardly turn him down. At least he hoped that she had not forgotten what he had done for her. Without another word, the young beauty hurried over to the young man, grabbed his arm and placed it around her shoulders to support him. "What happened to you?" "Leshen..." he pressed out with effort, moaning softly for the pain was almost unbearable. Y/N  immediately took him to her bedroom so he could lie down and she could take care of him. Gaetan was obviously having trouble lying down on the bed without pain, and he was glad when he didn't have to move. His face testified to how much pain he must be in at the moment. Y/N  immediately undid the buckles and buttons of his jacket to be able to take it off. Now that she saw the white shirt underneath, she realized how much blood this man had lost. "Oh, my goodness," Y/N  muttered softly to herself. She had to take a closer look. Immediately she rushed to her storeroom and took out a basket filled with all kinds of first aid utensils. Gatean watched the young woman's actions in silence. His eyes felt heavy and he struggled to keep his gaze fixed on her. He did not want to have to close his golden eyes. He was enjoying the sight of this beautiful woman too much. She dipped a needle and a pair of scissors in pure alcohol, then carefully placed them on the dry towel that lay on the side table. Gaetan's eyes wandered to the wooden bowl where her delicate fingers now dipped and wrung out a cloth to get rid of excess water. Y/N  took the chair that stood by her dressing table and sat on it before bending over Gaetan. She first wiped the blood and sweat from his face. As she did so, the witcher made eye contact with her and looked into her bright eyes. He smiled tentatively and Y/N  returned his gesture. Turning away from him again, she picked up the scissors she had dipped in alcohol earlier, to free him from his white shirt. At least this way she would spare him from having to move unnecessarily in pain. So she cut open the white shirt and exposed the well-built torso of the young man. Everything was smeared with blood. The white shirt, the scissors, his skin, and her hands. "Careful sweetheart. I'm getting the idea, you might take advantage of this situation." Gatean's crooked smile made her grin as she slid the damp rag over his skin and cleaned him of his blood. "I don't think there's time or place right now, Master Witcher. You would not be of much use to me." Gaetan couldn't help but laugh softly, though he regretted it the next moment as a stabbing pain shot through his ribs. "Damn..." Y/N  removed all the blood that had soiled pretty much his entire torso and could now see the extent of the deep cuts. There were three deep cuts of equal length and she swallowed hard as she realized this. With wide eyes she looked at the young man. Such a heavy injury would probably have killed any other man instantly. "This needs stitches immediately! And strict bed rest, I order you Master Witcher!" And she meant it. She would have to sew up the whole thing. That was especially important. Y/N  was extremely careful with her work and she made sure that no dirt came into the open wounds. Gaetan could not prevent the cry of pain from slipping over his lips. The needle had definitely been the most uncomfortable, but at some point everything had gone numb, so that he had only felt a pressure on his skin. Tired and completely exhausted, the witcher closed his eyes and surrendered to the skilled hands of this woman...
 ♦♦♦♦
Gaetan had been in bed for three weeks and slowly but surely his wounds were healing. Y/N  took care of changing his bandages several times a day. But in the last  few days Gaetan was able to do it alone. Y/N  already did so much for him, and now that he could do it on his own, she shouldn't have to take care of his bandages as well. Still, it was pretty boring just lying in bed and not being able to do anything. At least nothing exciting like going on a monster hunt. In his condition, he just managed to take a walk in peace. Reading was another option, but tiring in the long run. Every now and then, however, he would watch Y/N  tidy up the house a bit. It was always nice to see her lovely face. Y/N , of course, did not miss the glances of the young man, but she did not say anything and did not mention it during the common conversations. But she enjoyed the glances of the witcher. There was something exciting in the air and both of them could feel it. However, Y/N  did not dare to return his intense glance. How it might feel like when his fingers would touch her soft skin? And what would his nicely shaped lips taste like? She was putting away the fresh clothes in her closet, while these thoughts accompanied her and her heart was beating up to her neck; she could literally feel Gaetan's eyes boring into her back. As she quietly closed the closet, she leaned against it's door and looked over her shoulder at the Witcher. As she had already guessed, his cat's eyes were on her and the smile on his lips was for her alone. Gaetan had slowly fallen for this beautiful creature. He had felt a strong attraction to her from the very beginning, since their first meeting. At first he had not understood what this meant, but now he understood it all the more. Witches were not allowed to have feelings, were not allowed to feel something like desire for something that was more than just a physical relationship. But why did Gaetan feel exactly this? Whatever was happening to him, he liked it. It felt right. "How are you today, Gaetan?" Her voice was so soft and a blessing to Gaetan's sensitive ears. "I'm doing better. Thank you." She turned to face him, his intense gaze still resting on her, making her increasingly nervous. Gaetan even thought he saw her blush, which made him smile. "Well, I'll just go and wash the laundry. So…" "No." His voice was soft. He didn't want to let her go. He was alone most of the time and he would appreciate her company. "I'm bored to death. Could you do me a favor and keep me company for a bit?" The young woman smiled, brushed a strand of hair behind her ear, and eventually made her way to the witcher. She sat down with him and Gaetan looked very pleased. Her presence was a pleasure for him. "It was truly my good fortune to have met you again. Anyone else would probably have slammed the door shut!" "I didn't expect you," the young woman confessed softly. "But I had hoped to see you again one day. To express my gratitude to you."
Gaetan looked at her silently, but nodded gently when she expressed her gratitude. The young Witcher reached out to touch her cheek in the most tender way. There were small electric shocks that shot through her body and she blushed a bit. His touch felt good and most importantly, it felt right. She forgot everything around her and closed her eyes. The sight made Gaetan's heart stop for a moment. His eyes looked down to her full lips and for days all he could think about was kissing Y/N . His hand slid from her cheek to her neck and carefully, he pulled her down towards him. And when she slowly opened her eyes, she was so close to his face that she could feel his breath on her lips. His eyes held hers captive and Y/N  had the feeling he had hypnotized her. She couldn't escape this moment as she enjoyed it way too much. Finally, Gaetan kissed her gently. Returning the kiss, the young woman closed her eyes and let herself go for it. Gaetan intensified the kiss until finally pure passion could be felt. Y/N  sighed delightedly in their kiss, as his tongue brushed over her lips and demanded entrance. This she also allowed him, while she climbed over his body and now sat with her legs spread wide on his lap. Gaetan didn't hesitate for a moment and pulled the fabric of her dress up over her legs to feel the hidden skin beneath. With almost nervous movements, his hands slid over her thighs, as he could hardly believe his luck. Gaetan didn't even know where to touch her first and so his hands were everywhere. His lips thirsted for her velvety skin and Y/N  moaned sensually as the witcher caressed her neck. Both of them didn't want to waste any time. Gaetan pulled the blanket off his body and Y/N  set about undoing the button of his pants. She could feel how hard he had already become and the young woman did not hesitate for a moment to free his cock from his pants. Gaetan literally tore the white panties off her body. Her feminine scent intoxicated him, he could clearly smell her arousal and it drove him crazy. He wanted to taste her, taste her beautiful flower, but the desire for her was so great at the moment that he could hardly stand it. He had to have her! Now and at this moment. Somewhat roughly, his strong hands grasped her firm buttocks and he pulled her close until her soft, wet labia pressed against his swollen penis. Y/N  supported herself with one hand next to his head while the other reached for his wrist. She wanted him to touch her and Gaetan understood immediately. He grabbed her plump breast, still covered by her dress, and kneaded the soft, yet firm flesh. Her pussy rubbed against his cock, exerting a delightful pressure on her clitoris and making her sigh with pleasure. The Witcher moaned in time with her, and by God, he would have loved to throw her on her back and take her like a hungry wolf. But this soft creature above him wanted to be pleasured with gentleness. Y/N  was very special in his eyes. He wouldn't follow his instincts and fuck her out of her mind. But he had to admit that Y/N  seemed to be as impatient as he was and that heated up the whole situation even more. He purred, deep and demanding as she grabbed his cock and guided it to her wet entrance. Tortuously slow, she let him slide inside her and they both moaned together, closing their eyes and enjoying this moment. Gaetan clawed his fingers into her hips as her comforting, moist warmth embraced him. Y/N  raised her upper body, grabbed the skirt of her dress and pulled it over her head. Gaetan could now see the young woman in her perfect beauty. His mouth literally watered at the sight of her breasts and he grabbed them with both hands, kneading the firm flesh while Y/N  sighed in pleasure. She let his hard, thick cock slide inside her. Again and again, as she moved her hips up and down. Gaetan was entranced by her grace and beauty. "Fuck," Gaetan pressed out, his voice drenched with lust. "Come here!" Abruptly, he pulled her down to him and engaged her in a fiery kiss, while she rode him slowly. Gaetan grabbed her gorgeous ass, encouraging her to ride him harder and faster. Gaetan enclosed her stiff nipple with his lips, sucking on her flesh and Y/N  moaned sensually, while Gaetan lost himself in it. Unable to hold herself in position any longer, she reached for the headboard of the bed with her free hand and held onto it. Soon the room was flooded with pleasure-soaked sighs and whimpers that grew louder and louder, and some dirty words coming from the Witcher. Gaetan hungrily glanced up at the beautiful woman who rode him like there was no tomorrow. Her delicous tits bobbed up and down with every movement. The young witcher reached out and massaged them, while keeping a firm grip on them. By God, she was so desirable! Her long, soft hair which fell in soft waves over her shoulders. Her long lashes that cast shadows on her flushed cheeks. Those wonderful wide hips and those firm thighs! Gaetan could hardly believe his luck at the moment and if it were up to him, he could make love to her for hours. Gaetan already imagined in his head in which way he would take her during the day. Even in his current state, he should be able to keep the young woman so busy that she would still feel his throbbing cock for the next few days. She whispered his name, trembling all over. She was about to come and Gaetan sped things up by placing his fingers on her clit, stimulating her. Suddenly she moaned loudly, her face showing pure pleasure, while she was now holding onto the headboard with both hands and her whole body was trembling. Gaetan thrust into her wildly, wanting to extend her climax, and when he noticed that she wanted to collapse on top of him, he grabbed her under her arms and threw her roughly onto her back. Quite surprised, she looked up at the witcher, who was now bent over her, grinning, and spreading her legs wide. His thick, stiff cock peeked out from between her thighs. "I've been wondering the whole time how sweet you taste." Before Y/N  could say anything, Gaetan was already between her legs and began to lick her. Greedy and hungry. The young woman clawed at the soft sheet over her head, driving her hips up again and again, so that Gaetan finally held her down and she could no longer escape him. She moaned loudly, barely enduring this sweet torture. Oh, by the gods! What was Gaetan doing? This was too much pleasure! But Y/N  did not want it to stop, because it was just too good.
Gaetan's eyes glanced up at her and he grinned at her attempt to escape his grasp. His tongue played around the swollen pearl between her soft labia, sucking on it with delight and never taking his eyes off her face for a moment. "G-Gaetan..." She squirmed like a cat, but he held her tight, chasing another orgasm through her body, and Y/N 's emotions bubbled up so high that tears welled up in her eyes. He was still licking her, until his tongue penetrated deep into her wet pussy. "F-fuck... G-Gaetan!" Her thighs trembled, she tried to escape his greedy mouth, and this time, Gaetan let go of her. Completely exhausted, she lay before him. Her beautiful eyes closed, her chest rising and falling in a rapid beat. Her legs spread wide and this was so damn inviting. The young witcher licked his lips at the sight, smiled sensually, and grabbed his cock. He let it slide through his hand in a quick beat, enjoying the sight of this magical creature beneath him until he shot his warm seed all over her body. The white fluid settled on her belly, even on the tips of her breasts. When Y/N opened her bright eyes, they looked at each other silently, and yet this moment said so much. For when Gaetan lay down on top of her, he gently ran a hand through her long hair. The young woman smiled and the next moment she closed her eyes as he gave her a gentle kiss on her forehead. Not wanting to continue to burden her unnecessarily with his weight, he lay down beside her and pulled her into his strong arms. Instantly, Y/N cuddled up to his body and felt her body overtaken by tiredness. They felt safe and secure in each other's arms.
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eirian-houpe · 11 months
Text
Disparate Pathways - Chapter 57
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Read previous chapters on AO3
Chapter 57 - Reunion
The sun slipped from behind the clouds, bathing the cemetery with the warmth of its light, but he didn’t move, not even to remove the heavy jacket in spite of how hot it left him. He began to wonder if he should have waited longer before coming to the grave, when it was cooler… later in the evening, maybe just before dark.  That seemed far more appropriate somehow. 
“I’m… sorry, son,” he said softly, and he did move then, to kneel beside the grave, one hand on the lettering of the headstone. They’d done a good job with it, that was for certain. “I shoulda been there wi ye.”
He took a breath.  He’d promised he wouldn’t be like this, all full of self recriminations and self loathing because he couldn’t put the blame anywhere else; couldn’t put the blame where it belonged… With Celine West.
“I don’t know that I deserve this… to be here, where you’re not. I thought we had more time. Maybe, though, this is the price I pay for… not acting sooner. I don’t know. I’m rambling.”  He sighed. “So… she gone - she’ll not hurt anyone any more.”
He sighed.
“They were right to send you here,” he said. “I’d thought maybe I might come home, but… well… this is my home now. Here.” He paused. “Besides, the poison did some damage to my heart, so I don’t think I would have been fit to fly. Probably always have a weak heart, but… I suppose that’s a small price to pay, to be able to share a life with Belle and…” he gave a little huff of laughter, expressing his amazement and joy then, before he finished, “And your brother. So, I’m glad you’re here.”
He looked up as a shadow fell across him where he sat, and smiled at Belle as she came to him, a fresh bouquet of flowers in her hand to replace the ones that were past their best in the small vase that was attached to the gravestone.
Gold ran his fingers one more time across the lettering - the simple epitaph that read. Baethan Gold. Beloved Son.
Finally, he pushed himself to his feet, and reached for Belle. He tucked her in to his side, and with such tenderness, softly caressed her rounded belly.
“I brought flowers for MacCalmain too,” she said. “The white lilies that you said he always liked.”
Gold nodded, and whispered another silent prayer of thanks to ever faithful ‘Silent Mac.’ They hadn’t told him much of what had happened, but enough to know that the man gave his life defending Grace.
“Let’s go home,” he said.
He took a deep breath, leaning heavily on the cane they told him he’d need to use for a while. He let the air chase away the incessant stench of the hospital, of disinfectant, of the ventilator he swore to God he could still always smell and taste.
It was all in his head. He knew that. He knew, from talking with Doctor Hopper that it would be a while before the nightmares went away, before the somatic symptoms subsided; before he began to feel… normal again.
After so many years of anything but normal, he wasn’t even sure what that meant any more.
He started walking slowly along the path… rounding a slight bend where the path was lined with bushes, and had to stop walking again, the sight of them taking the breath from his lungs again.
“God, you’re beautiful,” he whispered, blinking back tears. Her slender face, and button nose, her deep brown eyes and long brown hair… someone had braided it.  She looked so… grown up.
He made himself move again, move closer, limping along the path toward where the two men waited with Grace, holding both of their hands, a puzzled look on her face, as though she wasn’t sure why she was here. It wasn’t her day to visit after all. Through all the months they’d only let her visit one day a week, and only then for an hour at a time.
Archie spotted him first, the doctor’s face lighting into a smile that crinkled his eyes at the corners. He didn’t say anything to alert the others, but the other man looked up anyway. His rich, caramel colored eyes softening into a warmth even greater than the sun, but he twitched his head toward Grace, with a mischievous smile that promised a private reunion later.
A sudden rush of nervousness halted his steps.
What if she hated him? What if she blamed him for what had happened to her aunt, what if…
“Grace!” 
He called her name before he could stop himself; before he lost courage and turned away.
She turned to him, shook her hands free of the others and ran toward him, calling, “Papa!”
He lowered himself to one knee to catch her up and hold her tightly. Tears streaming from his face as he felt her warm breath against the side of his neck.  He closed his eyes as he heard the footsteps of the others come to a halt at his side, and he pushed to his feet, still holding Grace, and ignored the pain the exertion caused.
He felt a light touch on one elbow. It was the touch of a hand he knew; knew intimately and he felt the concern streaming from that touch.
“I’m all right,” he whispered, then held Grace the tighter.
Time passed, he vaguely heard Doctor Hopper excuse himself, and eventually he found he had to put her down, though he didn’t want to.  The hand still on his arm tightened, just a little, and he had to admit he’d been right to be concerned. He maybe needed to take things a little easier.
There was a bench nearby, and with his family by his side, Jefferson limped over to it and sat down, drawing Grace to him again, to lean against him, never wanting to be away from her again.
“I’ve been thinking,” he began, and Grace turned in his arms to look at him, a puzzled expression on her sweet face. “How would you like to live here… in Storybrooke?”
He looked up then, into the warm, dark eyes of his lover, to include him in the question as he waited for Grace’s answer.
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The following reflection is courtesy of Don Schwager © 2023. Don's website is located at Dailyscripture.net
Meditation: Do you allow sin or anger to master your life? The first person to hate his brother was Cain. God warned Cain: 'Why are you angry? ..Sin in couching at the door; it's desire is for you, but you must master it (Genesis 4:6-7). Sin doesn't just happen; it first grows as a seed in one's heart. Unless it is mastered, by God's grace, it grows like a weed and chokes the life out of us.
Do not allow the seed of anger and evil to grow in your heart
Jesus addressed the issue of keeping the commandments with his disciples. The scribes and Pharisees equated righteousness with satisfying the demands of the law. Jesus showed them how short they had come. Jesus points to the heart as the seat of desire, choice, and intention. Unless forbidden and evil desires are uprooted and cut-out, the heart will be poisoned and the body become a slave to sin and passion.
Jesus illustrates his point with the example of the commandment to not kill. Murder first starts in the heart as the seed of forbidden anger that grows within until it springs into words and actions against one's brother or neighbor. This is a selfish anger that broods and is long-lived, that nurses a grudge and keeps wrath warm, and that refuses to die. Anger in the heart as well as anger in speech or action are equally forbidden. The Lord Jesus commands by grace - take away the anger in your heart and there will be no murder.
Only God's purifying love and mercy can free us from bitterness and anger
What is the antidote for overcoming anger and rage? Mercy, forbearance, and kindness spring from a heart full of love and forgiveness. God has forgiven us and he calls us to extend mercy and forgiveness towards those who cause us grief or harm. In the cross of Jesus we see the supreme example of love and the power for overcoming evil. Only God's love and grace can set our hearts and minds free from the tyranny of wounded pride and spiteful revenge. Do you harbor any anger towards another person? And are you quick to be reconciled when a rupture has been caused in your relationships? Ask God to set you free and to fill your heart and mind with his love and truth.
Eusebius, a 3rd century church father, offered the following prayer as instruction for his fellow Christians:
"May I be no man's enemy, and may I be the friend of that which is eternal and abides. May I never quarrel with those nearest me: and if I do, may I be reconciled quickly. May I love, seek, and attain only that which is good. May I wish for all men's happiness and envy none. May I never rejoice in the ill-fortune of one who has wronged me. When I have done or said what is wrong, may I never wait for the rebuke of others, but always rebuke myself until I make amends. May I win no victory that harms either me or my opponent. May I reconcile friends who are angry with one another. May I never fail a friend who is in danger. When visiting those in grief may I be able by gentle and healing words to soften their pain. May I respect myself. May I always keep tame that which rages within me. May I accustom myself to be gentle, and never be angry with people because of circumstances. May I never discuss who is wicked and what wicked things he has done, but know good men and follow in their footsteps."
Do you seek to live peaceably and charitably with all?
"Lord Jesus, my heart is cold. Make it warm, compassionate, and forgiving towards all, even those who do me harm. May I only think and say what is pleasing to you and be of kind service to all I meet."
The following reflection is from One Bread, One Body courtesy of Presentation Ministries © 2023.
todaylight savings time
“Lose no time.” —Matthew 5:25
“All’s well that ends well.” “If the wicked man turns away from all the sins he committed, if he keeps all My statutes and does what is right and just, he shall surely live, he shall not die” (Ez 18:21). The “good thief” lived a miserable life, but ended well and is in paradise with Jesus (Lk 23:43).
Because our ending is all-important, some people wait until the end to convert to Jesus. This is a serious mistake. “Delay not your conversion to the Lord, put it not off from day to day; for suddenly His wrath flames forth; at the time of vengeance, you will be destroyed” (Sir 5:8-9). If we truly want to die with Christ, why wouldn’t we want to live with Him as soon as possible? Imagine waiting till you’re almost dead to marry someone! Your marriage would not have time enough to break up, but you would have lost years of married love. When you give your life to Jesus, your only regret will be that you didn’t do it sooner.
The best way to die in Christ is to live in Him. How can you persevere if you haven’t started or are reluctant to start? “Lose no time” (Mt 5:25). “Now is the acceptable time! Now is the day of salvation!” (2 Cor 6:2) Now, at this moment, give your whole life to the Lord.
Prayer:  Father, may I not miss another minute of life with You.
Promise:  “If you bring your gift to the altar and there recall that your brother has anything against you, leave your gift at the altar, go first to be reconciled with your brother, and then come and offer your gift.” —Mt 5:23-24
Praise:  St. Katharine Drexel led many people to give not only money to aid the poor but their lives as well.
Reference:  (The always-popular Woman’s Retreat is coming up March 17-18. The teachings, fellowship and prayer will give your Lent a boost. Call 937-587-5464, 513-373-2397 or e-mail [email protected].)
Rescript:  "In accord with the Code of Canon Law, I hereby grant the Nihil Obstat for the publication One Bread, One Body covering the time period from February 1, 2023 through March 31, 2023. Reverend Steve J. Angi, Chancellor, Vicar General, Archdiocese of Cincinnati, Cincinnati, Ohio June 15, 2022"
The Nihil Obstat ("Permission to Publish") is a declaration that a book or pamphlet is considered to be free of doctrinal or moral error. It is not implied that those who have granted the Nihil Obstat agree with the contents, opinions, or statements
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greppelheks · 3 years
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someone recommend me some movies about women killing men please I need it for therapeutic reasons
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sunsents · 3 years
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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.”
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aminiatureworld · 3 years
Text
Enigmatic Feelings
Characters: Albedo, Diluc, Xiao, Zhongli, gn!reader
Word Count: 5,544
Warnings: None
Premise: Love is a potent force. And sometimes little things take on larger meanings, especially when one party is unaware of them.
In which the reader’s s/o is jealous
Author’s Note: This trope is 100% my guilty pleasure. I hope I did it justice.
I also realized while writing this that all these characters have the emotional understanding of a teaspoon, but they’re trying their best, so that’s what counts.
Albedo
Albedo was many things. A great alchemist, a man of secrets, a weapon with which one might someday bring destruction. He was even a lover, albeit an unpracticed one. But what he was not was emotional. Or so he thought.
Of course Albedo knew what jealousy was, knew the sort of stupidity that people could fall into when altogether too infatuated with their own love. But just because one knows what jealousy is does not mean one must fall prey to such things. Or so Albedo assumed.
It was the fourth day in a row that a knight had approached your door. Friedrich was his name, and he was doing a stellar job at capturing your attention, and pulling on emotions that Albedo had long told himself he didn’t contain.
Today the flower was a Windwheel Aster, swaying this way and that in the pocket of space between your two hands. You were smiling at it, or rather at Friedrich, brightly, fingers mere moments away from Friedrich as you went to claim the fourth flower this week. Though the was nothing necessarily untoward in Friedrich’s movements, and Albedo would much rather a person of integrity be attempting to woo you, even if the idea itself turned knots in his stomach; nevertheless it still left a bad taste in the alchemist’s mouth, and a worry in his heart that he was not so immune to jealousy as he’d previous assumed.
“Thank you!” You spoke to Friedrich, giving one last wave before walking back over to Albedo. “Albedo look! It’s a Windwheel Aster. It’s very nice of Friedrich to give me one, maybe I can use it, or maybe it’ll be helpful for your experiments?”
“Yes, thank you. I, I think you should keep it.”
As much as Albedo wanted to take the flower and throw it in the incinerator, he couldn’t bring himself to shatter the smile on your face. No matter how dearly it cost him to see you smile down once more at the delicate red petals. And no matter how much it haunted him the rest of the day to imagine you, face framed by a smile, a bouquet of a random knight’s making in your hands.
That knight as Albedo put away the Bunsen burners and the graduated cylinders he kept his mind preoccupied by thoughts of you. Surely he had to tell you his feelings, for if not they would keep building in his chest; building and building until one day he erupted, with you in the line of fire rather than the knight who was creating this whole dilemma, perhaps even unwittingly. Though Albedo had never been in a relationship before he knew stories. Weren’t books full of those kinds of moments? Men, women, people, all of them running over one another in their misunderstanding, in their overwhelming guilt.
No, he wouldn’t turn out like that, wouldn’t let the two of you be hurt in such a way. He had to tell you. Had to make you understand how much his chest constricted when he saw you carrying the gifts of others, had to let it be known before he lost control of these emotions. After all, wasn’t that what happened with emotions? They grow and grow and one day they spill over. And Albedo never wanted these emotions to spill over. No matter the cost.
“May I tell you something?”
The sunlight was streaming through the laboratory windows, the air warm enough that Sucrose had tied up her hair during her shift. And yet Albedo felt cold, oh so cold. He was going to tell you today. He hadn’t been able to tell you three days ago, nor two days ago, nor yesterday. And now the bouquet of flowers that occupied a tiny glass on the windowsill felt quite large indeed. Today would be day eight if Friedrich showed up at lunchtime, and before that Albedo would tell you.
“Of course you can Albedo, I’m all ears!”
You turned around, a soft smile once more spreading across your face. Putting down the pencil you’d been holding you leaned back against the lab table. Albedo took in a deep breath. He could do this. He would do this. He had to do this. No matter what, today. Today, he would do this.
“I-I’m jealous.” The words hung in the air for a moment, as if not understood.
“Jealous?” You tilted your head slightly, worry making your smile slip. “Albedo, jealous of what?”
“Of Friedrich, of you and Friedrich, or rather, I mean, of Friedrich giving you flowers.” Albedo paused, words tangling in his mouth, tripping on each other in an attempt to be understood. What if this was a mistake.
“Albedo,” you shook you head softly, walking over to cup your partner’s face, “I promise that there’s nothing in it. The flowers are lovely, of course, but nothing in this world could replace or stem my love for you. You have nothing to worry about.”
“I know,” Albedo replied hurriedly, worried still that he might be misunderstood, “I’m not trying to accuse you of anything, or say that I doubt you. My love, I will never doubt you. I just, I just feel so uncomfortable when he brings you flowers. It feels like, like I don’t know; it feels like I’m being poisoned, suddenly and all at once. And I don’t want it to affect the way I act towards you. So, so I wanted to tell you. You don’t have to stop, if those flowers make you happy then that’s what matters. But, but I just wanted to tell you.”
You said nothing, staring into Albedo’s eyes, gaze piercing through the alchemist. It was always that way with you. How you managed to destroy the control he thought he had, the wall he’d erected between himself and humanity. How you made him feel unsure and fallible and whole. And, just as before, now your gaze softened and you shook your head, your smile a balm for the raw unfamiliarity of putting together emotions.
“It’s okay Albedo, I’m glad you told me. Just like my emotions matter to you, I’d rather not see you unhappy. To be honest, I just never saw Friedrich’s actions in the way that he probably meant them. We all struggle with our feelings sometimes, I do just like you. Just as long as well tell each other, all will be well. Alright?”
“Yes. Thank you. I don’t know what I do without you.”
“Well you’ll never have to find out, so it doesn’t matter!”
There was no eighth flower that day, at least not one that was successfully given. Albedo supposed that he could pity Friedrich, but in reality he felt nothing but relief. The emotions that had left such a bad taste in his mouth seemed so far away now, for there was you, only you. It would only ever be you for him, and the days in which you said the same thing of him Albedo felt as if he could truly be happy, and truly acknowledge the emotions that swirled inside him, the love for you so great it spilled over into a vast ocean.
 Diluc
Diluc found most merchants loathsome, something perhaps not entirely fair considering his own status as a mover of goods.
Still, merchants in general were an unlikeable bunch. Prone to complacency and greed, this elite circle was comprised of people who thought of little than of ways to line their pockets anew. It disgusted Diluc and as he stood there, watching as a man who had enough jewelry on his body to weigh down a pack mule and a smile that made one want to run in the other direction, throw compliments and boasts your way, the winery owner was reminded about all that was wrong with the world in which he worked.
“So your goal is to attempt to find a route through which we might trade our wine in Inazuma?” You repeated the words the man had just spoken, expression skeptical. “As much as it would mean good business to begin another trade route, I believe the border restrictions will cause no little difficulty.”
“Restrictions such as those are nothing for a man like me.” The merchant smile once more and Diluc felt the hairs on the back of his neck stand straight up. “I have the ability to wave past such an issue. Indeed with the right price I believe I could expand your network to include all of the seven major lands, if you haven’t been trading internationally.”
“Thank you for your offer.” You replied, too focused on the work in front of you to notice the merchant’s roving sort of gaze. “I’ll see what Master Diluc has to say. However I warn you, as much as international exports are important for a growing trade, smuggling wine into locked countries will do little good. Especially considering what the damage could do to this winery’s reputation if such a thing was found out.”
“Don’t worry, I assure you my methods are completely secure. In fact, if you’d like to discuss it in more depth, I do believe that I may be able to enlighten you over a meal.”
“Perhaps, although Master Diluc would certainly have to be there.” You smiled slightly, and Diluc wondered for a moment if you were being purposefully oblivious or simply didn’t notice the meaning behind the merchant’s words.
“I will be back tomorrow, perhaps you’ll have an answer then?”
“I’m sure I will.” You replied, smiling as the two of you shook hands. As the merchant walked out of the winery your smile morphed into a sort of smirk and you looked up towards the balcony of the second floor.
“You can come out now Diluc, I know you’re there.”
Diluc couldn’t help but smile at those words, he truly couldn’t get anything past you. Hurrying down the stairs he swept you up in his arms, sighing slightly into your neck as you tightened the embrace.
“Ever so observant, my darling.”
“I know that you’d never let a transaction or a business conversation take place without your knowledge.” There was a playfulness to your voice, coming from the knowledge that you were utterly correct. “Still, you could’ve come downstairs you know. I don’t think that anyone would need to believe that you were going through your ‘very important paperwork, and lurking around is your night job.’”
“It seemed somehow wrong to suddenly appear in front of you two and derail the conversation.” Diluc drew away and placed a soft kiss on the tip of your nose, chuckling when you immediately wrinkled it. “Especially since you were doing so well on your own.”
“Oh he’s just like the rest of them,” you sighed, “altogether a bit too full of themselves.”
“Especially in this one’s case.” Diluc said, finally letting a scowl cross his face.
“What do you mean?”
The look on your face was one of innocence and confusion, and for a moment Diluc felt his thoughts stammer, as he realized that you truly were unaware of the way that the merchant was looking at you, unaware of the manner which caused Diluc even now to continue to press his hand gently against your lower back. If you didn’t notice it, then surely Diluc was overreacting, surely there was no reason for his heart to stutter and his stomach to drop. Surely there was no reason, and surely he shouldn’t tell you.
“Nothing at all, I just didn’t like his face.” He hurried now to reply, realizing how odd his pause must’ve seemed. “Will you be accepting his proposal for a business dinner?”
“I’m not sure. I suppose it couldn’t hurt. And then it might be a good venue for the two of you to talk. Since you find him especially ghastly, I think a more public meeting might be easier.”
“Perhaps, but I don’t think that invitation was meant for me.” Diluc replied, before realizing his gaffe and falling silent.
“What? What do you mean of course it’s meant for you. I mean you are the owner of the Winery. Who else would it be for?”
“For, for you my darling. Why else would he ask you in such a way?” Diluc tried to keep the acid out of his words. It wasn’t your fault after all. It wasn’t your fault that some louche was asking after you.
“But I’m not the one in charge.” You furrowed your brow. “I can’t make the final decision. And I won’t allow him to attempt to bypass getting your permission either.”
“My darling, I, I think he meant it a different way.”
“What way?”
Diluc sighed, capitulating quickly to his want to tell you. Even if it was perhaps selfish of him, he was never truly good at keeping his feelings masked away, at least in a way that didn’t result in him completely shutting down. And you meant to much to him than for Diluc to try and lie to you.
“You see, I think he was attempting to ask you on a more romantic sort of dinner.”
“What?”
Your reaction was immediate, your expression quickly turning into one of shock and then of disgust. Letting out a groan you buried your face into the front of Diluc’s coat, eliciting a short laugh from its owner.
“Why? I… I… Even if I weren’t in love with you I’d never go out to dinner with him.”
“I don’t think he would appreciate the sentiment.”
“Diluc.” You let out another groan, shaking your head as if to rid yourself of the thought. “Archons, ugh thank you for telling me. I, disgusting.”
Diluc said nothing, simply tightening the hold of his arms around you. Though your reaction was certainly justifiable he knew there was something more behind them, and he felt grateful for your consideration. Though he knew that would always have been your reaction, it didn’t stop the pressure that ha been building in his chest, the thoughts that screamed what if, what if, what if. What if there is something better than you.
“Hey, are you alright?” You voice drifted up through the fabric of Diluc coat. He smiled, relaxing his grasp around you and pressing a soft kiss to the crown of your head.
“I will be. May I hold you a little longer?”
“Of course. You’re the only one for me, you know.”
“And you for me. I love you.”
“I love you too.”
Those words, though so small, were somehow enough.
 Xiao
The new guest at the inn had been speaking to you for quite some time. That was Xiao’s first observation. The second was that you didn’t seem to mind. The third was that for some reason he suddenly felt incredibly irritated.
It was a beautiful evening, the kind that would’ve normally had you and Xiao sitting on the roof together, fingers entwined, the silence of nature cushioning the two of your from the outside world. It was a ritual, something that Xiao had come to rely on, had come to almost sanctify. Yet here he was, sitting on one of the thicker branches of the trees that dotted the outside of the Inn, trying desperately to quench the anger that bloomed in his chest as he watched you and the guest talk the minutes away.
Perhaps the worst part was that you didn’t seem to mind. Instead of pulling the conversation towards a close, you seemed perfectly content to keep talking, smiling brightly and quickly answering the questions of this uninvited guest. Normally Xiao didn’t care about , or rather didn’t keep track of, the people you spoke to. Of course you would have friends, would have people that mattered to you. Just because Xiao had disconnected himself from humanity didn’t mean that you had to. So why was he so angry?
His patience ran out when the guest reached for your hand. Sidling next to you as fast as he could Xiao peeled off his invisibility, enjoying the shock that registered across the uninvited guest’s face as he moved his hand back. Reaching to entwine his hand with yours Xiao shifted his gaze towards your face. Shock was painted into your expression, but there was also something else, a glimmer of happiness or of satisfaction. Somehow it unnerved Xiao, and he focused instead on the task at hand, whatever that task was.
“It’s getting late.”
“Oh, of course.” Turning back to the guest you smiled sheepishly. “I’m sorry to cut this short, but perhaps we’ll speak again some other time?”
“Gladly!” The man’s face lit up, before Xiao’s glaring left him scampering down the steps.
“Xiao, is something wrong?” The question was so genuine, without any sense of knowing more than you let. Unfortunately the question was also unanswerable.
“It’s late. We should go.” Xiao gestured towards the roof, hoping the reminder would flush the question out of your head.
“You’re right, I suppose it is getting late. And we wouldn’t want to waste such a wonderful evening.” You smiled. And yet somehow Xiao felt unplacated. He was happy, wasn’t he? So why, why did the question hang in the air, and why did the discontent remain?
The next day was a lazy one, as Xiao waited for you to be done with work. More than usual he missed you, and he wished that the hours would go faster, so he might be able to once more enjoy your presence, to banish the discontent that he still felt, evening after an hour spent wholly in your company.
Eventually the sun made its descent from the heavens, and Xiao pulled himself once more to the perch on the tree he’d taken the night before. Gazing down at the balcony he saw the familiar figure of the unwanted guest, and a stab of anger flashed through him. This was made all the worse by your entrance, and the fact you once more stopped to make time for this intruder.
The man was just as insufferable as before, full of jokes that Xiao didn’t understand and words that though praising of you felt somewhat hollow, almost insulting. You laughed along to these jokes, smiled at these odd compliments. And when the man asked if you might be willing to talk more over some sort of meal you merely smiled.
Xiao, however, found the whole ordeal unbearable. Why should this person be asking all these things, be prying you with words of intimacy and familiarity. Had he not arrived yesterday? Was he not an utter stranger? Confusion mixed with irritation in Xiao’s head, and he found it difficult to hold on to the stony reason he’d built up. What was going on? What was this terrible feeling of anger and want? He couldn’t understand human ways. Less could he understand why they should have any sort of effect on him.
Still he had to do something. Had to do anything. Swooping down once more Xiao began the same charade. This time, however, the man merely jumped, and for all his glaring Xiao couldn’t dislodge the guest from his place on the balcony.
“It’s late.”
“Ah it is. Are you hungry?” He asked, addressing you once more.
“I’m not at all, but Xiao’s right. It is late. If you haven’t eaten yet then perhaps you should. Smiley Yanxiao is quite strict about his rest.”
“Ah, then perhaps you’re right. Still, why not join me? You can tell me your name, and we can talk a little more about the things you do.”
“You don’t even know their name.” Xiao spat out the sentence, barely able to contain the odd sort of irritation that still spun around him. He asked you all those questions, said all those words of praise, all without knowing your name. It felt somehow dehumanizing, somehow… wrong.
“I would be glad to learn it.” The man smiled.
Xiao simply shook his head. He needed to leave. It was becoming too much again, and the last thing Xiao wanted was for a stranger to see him this way, see him unsure and confused and not a little frightened of these alien emotions. Glaring at the man one more time Xiao scooped you up. Ignoring the surprised shriek that you let out he shot up into the sky, moving towards the familiar sanctuary of Jueyen Karst, deeply grateful that the guest, whatever he could do, could never fly.
“Are you going to tell me what’s wrong?” You asked, barely giving Xiao the time to set you down onto one of Liyue’s sloping peaks before asking him the one question he couldn’t answer.
“Nothing.”
“Well it’s certainly not nothing. You’re being awfully rude to that guest, and I can’t understand why. Usually you don’t really care about those sorts of things. So something must be wrong, and I want to know what it is.”
A pause.
“Please.”
“I can’t.” It was all Xiao could say, the only thing that would truly encompass the truth, because in truth he couldn’t. He himself didn’t understand it.
“What do you mean you can’t?”
“My chest hurts.”
“What?” Immediately your face shifted into one of worry, and you placed a soft hand over Xiao’s heart. Somehow the gesture was calming, and Xiao closed his eyes, enjoying the receding of the hot bands that had just been restricting him.
“My chest hurt when I saw you with that, that guest. My chest hurt and I felt angry. That’s what’s wrong. My chest hurt, but now it doesn’t; and I don’t understand it.”
There was a pause, and Xiao studied the expressions on your face, watched as they shifted from worry to confusion to caution.
“Xiao, is it possible you were jealous?”
“No.” The idea was somehow insulting.
“It’s alright to be jealous Xiao. It just means you care about someone very much. You don’t have to just dismiss it like that. I want to make sure that you’re alright, so please be honest. Is it possible you were jealous?”
Xiao let another gap form in the conversation, trying to figure out how to answer. The suggestion felt demeaning, felt as if he somehow had no control over himself, no trust of you. And yet it somehow made sense, and even as he shook his head he found himself letting out a different answer.
“I don’t know.”
“It’s okay if you don’t. I know that new emotions can be frightening, can be difficult to deal with. But Xiao, I’ll always love you. It doesn’t matter who else I meet or what else happens in my life. I love you the way that a bird loves the sky. You’re a part of my life I could never lose. So even if this isn’t jealousy, even if I’m wrong, I still want to let you know. I love you.”
Xiao sighed, a smile finally gracing his lips, the pain in his chest finally melting away. What did he ever do to deserve such a person as you, he would never know. He wished he could repeat those words back to you word for word, wished that he could explain that his love for you was all encompassing, had seeped through the cracks of his existence and his life. He wished he could form together the words necessary to convey his love for you. Even if it was impossible he still wished it.
So instead he leaned over towards you. Letting out a gentle sigh he brought his lips to yours, reveling in the soft sensation of your mouth against his, reveling in the way you leaned against him, bringing you arm up to his neck, letting out a soft breath of contentment as the two of you disconnected.
You didn’t ask him anything else, and for the rest of the evening you two sat on the grass, watching the fireflies dance around you as you leaned against one another.
Perhaps Xiao didn’t yet understand the extent to which he loved you, the emotions that had now risen up, given life by the love you’d poured into the adeptus. Perhaps he didn’t understand this yet, but he knew that all would be well. For with you all that irritation seemed so far away, as if it belonged to a Xiao of yesterday. Because here and now you two were together, breathing in the same mutual contentment, the same mutual trust, the same mutual love. And that present was more important than any jealousy could be.
 Zhongli
Looking back on the matter Zhongli admitted that maybe pretending the problem didn’t exist was probably not the best solution.
It was only that you two had seemed so oddly content in talking, so, compatible, that Zhongli couldn’t help but feel a twinge of discontent, a tension that spread through his jaw and down to his stomach. He didn’t quite understand the nature of the emotion that now spread over him, but he did understand that it was connected to the bond that was now forming between you and the vendor in front of you.
“Dearest one.” He spoke softly, walking over to where you now stood.
“Oh, Zhongli!” Your face lit up as usual, and the ex-archon felt a piece of him uncoil. At least some things seemed to be unchanging, just as wonderful today as they had been the day before.
“I’ve been looking for you. I know you spoke of wanting to learn more about the nature of Cor Lapis, and the tea shop has been offering a new brew. Perhaps we could share a drink?”
“Oh that sounds lovely!” Turning around towards the vendor you smiled gently. “I’m sorry, I’ll have to try that lovely soup you were speaking of some other time.”
“Not at all!” The vendor’s smile was good natured, and Zhongli didn’t understand why he nevertheless felt a twinge of uncertainty. “I look forward to it. I hope you two have a nice day, and we’ll talk about it more later.”
Though the stall receded into the distance as the two of you turned the corner, Zhongli couldn’t help but let the moment run through his mind once more, finding it as sore to think about as a bruise might be to the touch.
“That vendor? Oh they’re new on the scene.” You smiled, taking a sip of tea.
The tea house was as calming as ever, the noises of the outside a distant song, and the hushed whispers inside adding to the intimate atmosphere. Zhongli normally loved to sit here, drinking cup after cup of tea, watching as the people came and went about their business, immersed in a small fragment of Liyue life. Now, however, he found he couldn’t stop thinking about the vendor. If he closed his eyes he could still remember their face, and the way yours was lit up while they were talking to you.
“Their name is Eli.” You continued on, oblivious to the way Zhongli’s hand tightened around his teacup. “They said that they set up shop maybe… two weeks ago? It hasn’t been a very long time, and they’re still struggling a bit. I hope that they’ll be able to get their business off the ground, who knew that street food was such a cutthroat world.”
“The city of Liyue is full of people who might make their way in the world, doing whatever they can. Perhaps it is unsurprising that competition is second nature to Liyue’s citizens.” Zhongli replied, hoping his tone wasn’t too curt. If it was you didn’t seem to mind, nodding softly in agreement.
“Speaking of Liyue and stories, perhaps you would like to tell me the story you were going to tell? I very much doubt that Cor Lapis is the blood of Morax.”
“How humans love to spin their stories.” Zhongli chuckled.
But even as he began to speak of jewels and pressure and the minerals that lay deep beneath the earth a bit of him was still preoccupied by the vendor’s easy words and your smiling face.
The next time he ran into you with the vendor the pit in his stomach had only gotten heavier. Standing a little ways away he let the conversation between the two of you flow in and out his ear, frown slipping deeper the more he heard.
“I cannot believe that your stall nearly caught fire on your first day! How unlucky.”
“Even worse that I didn’t know who to try and tell about it. If I had known you were part of the Guild then I would’ve asked you.”
“Well next time there are troubles you can just send a message to the Adventurer’s Guild. We can’t have our citizens being injured on our watch.”
“You sound like true heroes. I wish I could do the sorts of things you did. Your commissions sound fascinating! I would love to see how you go about your day some time.”
“Really it’s nothing, most days it’s quite boring really, just like any other job. Still, it’s nice to know that people have an interest in what we do.”
“Oh certainly! I find what you do very interest– ”
“My dearest one!” Zhongli called out, unable to continue listening to the conversation, feeling somewhat guilty and certainly upset. You turned slightly, smile brightening as you saw your partner.
“Zhongli! So sorry that I didn’t meet you outside your office, I must’ve lost track of the time. Eli here was telling me all about their first days at work.”
“I’m sorry that I got out late. I hope that you did not have to wait awhile.”
“Oh not at all Zhongli, like I said I’ve just been standing here. You don’t need to feel bad at all!”
“I’m glad. Perhaps now we can go?”
Zhongli attempted to smile, but it felt a lot more like a grimace. You stared at him, face the picture of confusion. Taking a step forward you glanced one more time at Eli, shrugging apologetically. Before any more words could be passed between the two of you Zhongli grabbed onto your hand. Walking quite quickly he didn’t let go until the two of you were at your apartment and he could finally breathe again.
“Zhongli, what’s the matter with you?” You asked, closing the apartment door behind you. Walking back towards Zhongli, who stood there silently, you let your hands rest lightly on his shoulders. “You can tell me you know, I can tell you’re unhappy.”
“I have a confession.” Zhongli started, feeling somehow compelled to reveal his thoughts, as if keeping them locked away would only be dangerous.
“Yes?”
“I, I did not like the way that the vendor spoke to you.”
“Eli? But they were perfectly nice.”
“I do not mean that they were rude. They were perfectly cordial. I mean, when the two of you were speaking, I, I felt uncomfortable. It was as if there was a barrier between us in that moment. I, I did not like it.”
“Oh Zhongli.” You breathed out, an indulgent smile on your face.
Reaching up you planted fleeting kisses on the archon’s face, peppering his cheeks and the bridge of his nose, touch featherlight. It was a familiar gesture, one of comfort, one used in darker nights, when shadows dotted the periphery of Zhongli’s vision.
“Zhongli, I assume you know what jealousy is?”
“I know the term and what it means. I admit I am not personally familiar with the concept.”
“Well I am, so let me tell you. What you experienced, that was jealousy, plain and simple. I know it’s very uncomfortable. Jealousy can be such a messy feeling, it sticks everywhere. But it’s also normal. So you don’t need to worry. I promise that nothing will happen, and I promise that these feelings would go away. I also promise that I love you very much, so even if you feel these emotions, you don’t have to worry.”
“How could I ever worry about you?” Zhongli murmured, wrapping his arms around you, basking in your proximity.
The apology only came in the evening, after words and kisses and love had hung long enough in the air to dull the feelings that Zhongli had been carrying around. Now he lay there next to you, chin resting gently on your head, suddenly realizing that he’d most likely acted quite rudely.
“I’m sorry I ignored Eli.”
“I’m sure they’ll understand.” You murmured. “Though I’m not actually sure what got you riled up about them.”
“You are also a bit oblivious dearest one,” Zhongli let out a soft laugh, “it seems they were quite taken with you.”
“Were they?” You asked, tone betraying your surprise. You paused for a moment, as if trying to replay your interactions. “I never noticed. To be honest, I don’t think I could ever notice, not when I have you.”
“Thank you.” Zhongli whispered, oddly overcome by the confession.
As he lay awake, carding gentle fingers through your hair and listening to the even breaths of your sleeping form he pondered just how lucky he was. Precious gems might come from pressure and earth and chance. But you were more precious than all of them. And he’d never forget that.
633 notes · View notes
gemma-collins-ily · 2 years
Note
Jesper with s/o who really knows how to kick ass (aka sis was trained by someone)
Jesper with a Trained S/O
a/n - I love the pairing of Jesper and the pet name honey too much aaah. Also this was written over two nights when I was half asleep so forgive me if it isn't top notch xoxo 💗💝
Warnings: fighting, poison, bruises/cuts but no real mentions of blood or anything
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so
Kaz obviously employed you because of how amazing you are at any type of combat
but when asked the specific reason, he had only responded with a cryptic answer that gave the Crows nothing
"They're an asset to the team. Just as all of you are."
you would train at extremely early hours of the morning, often seen jogging back up the stairs to your room drenched in sweat right when others first awoke
but no one knew what you were actually doing
until Inej caught you in the training room in the Slat, practically beating a punching bag
the funny thing was, you didn't look as though you were a street fighter, one who had developed their own adapted technique that would get them by in a scrap
your punches were calculated, muscles flexing in just the right way and stature perfect
it was the ideal stance for a real fight in a ring
she didn't say anything and instead decided to get up just a little earlier each day in order to observe you
she was caught when she let the door creak accidentally, but instead of kicking her out of the room you only offered to leave so she could use it
she refused and said she'd rather watch you
and she did from then on, you having no protest or apparent problem with it
sometimes, you'd go up against Inej and circle each other warily, not daring to underestimate the other
you had only been on a few low level heists with the Crows at that point, Kaz mercifully easing you into the work
but it was noticed by Nina that whenever it was necessary to run and hide, you could sprint with full stamina and hardly break a sweat unless it was done for a long amount of time
she also noticed your heart rate barely raised
she brought it up once
"Ugh, (Y/N), I'm so jealous, you literally must be super-human, how are you so energised?"
this was said through panting breaths as she bent to rest her hands on her knees, much like the others were doing
this meant in turn it wasn't really registered by anyone
only you
you didn't really mind people knowing you were trained in combat, but didn't flaunt it or let anyone know without them finding out
you would act casually when found out, downplaying your skills
everything was a threat in the Barrel, and saying one wrong thing near one wrong person could cost you your head
you hadn't stiffened when Nina said that, only nodding and grinning, leaning against the wall with your hands in your pockets yet not saying anything verbally
you knew how to play the game and in order to do that, you had to let them subconsciously dismiss the very idea itself
Albert Einstein iq I'm telling you
psychology at its very core
you know
so
it's all forgotten until they see your skills put to use on a heist
if you've watched now you see me 2 and watched the spectacular card sequence, the next part is basically that
your tactful hand at cards could beat Kaz Brekker himself
on the heist, you know one of Kaz's sacred backup plans
only one, mind you
so, it's like the card sequence
you're all going in as guests but you and Kaz will shoot the card with the information between you and your separate searches
"Hands the other way, ma'am."
Your hands flew the opposite way, palms now facing the guard as the card was quickly flipped between your fingers, and with a single, efficient flick of the wrist Kaz had it in his possession.
"Alright, on your way you go."
Jesper had only seen because he was stationed behind you, otherwise he never would have known it was so seamless
Nina told them later that kind of thing seemed to be a regular occurrence as your heart rate had been completely average
showing how confident you are, go bestie
it was true
you and Kaz had trained for that heist often however barely for any length of time at all
the best part for you was that you had been checking how noticeable it was and flipping the card back and forth between you in meetings
Jesper's eyes had widened comically when he observed the whole thing and his jaw dropped
you laughed as you stepped past and kissed his jaw, making it close promptly as he chased after you, desperate for answers
your cards can also be poisoned
and in another heist they doubted you
because they had seen you help pull something off but not use any as a weapon
you were motioned by Kaz to appear innocent until another signal was given, one of which only you and Inej had been paying attention to and so understood
but after you hissed at Jesper out of the corner of your mouth, he stayed subdued too
you remained eerily silent as they pushed you against the wall and searched your pockets
the cards were brought out and ridiculed, even if you had cleverly concealed knives, now you knew how you would kill these men
after the go ahead was given, you burst into action, swooping downward and catching the man holding you off guard
you collected the cards and grinned as you stepped back, now the front most Crow in your little pyramid formation at the end of the street
"And what are they gonna do?"
A malicious glint appeared in your eye as Jesper tapped your shoulder, thinking you had backed yourself into a corner here.
but then, your hand flew out and struck one clean in the eye, making them wail and drop to their knees as you flung another card, swiping a man's cheek
they did not fall until a minute later, that minute consisting of you whipping cards at them and Jesper tugging on your sleeve
he'd do that a lot, before he knew of your training and maybe after too
it wasn't that he thought you couldn't handle yourself, just that he wanted to protect you in any way possible
so pulling you behind him was a knee jerk reaction, desiring to save his loved one from any possible threat or danger
he would do anything for you, let a bullet pierce his chest, a dagger land in his throat, as long as you emerged okay
it was only later, when you got Kaz to pick up the cards, saying it would be easier to wash them with a cloth than learn how to balance the slightly differing weight of a new pack
you made Kaz do it because he had leather protection and knew of the poison darkening the edges of the cards to an inky black
they were kept in a special and specific packet so there was no possible way of you being hurt unless you were completely careless
that was completely unable to happen because you were wary enough to know what to do and what not to
but Jesper still insisted you left them in his coat after he found out, wanting you to be totally risk free
"What if you're not with me? How will I use my weapons?"
"Well, my darling, that will not be the case," he paused to snicker at his unintentional joke about the container then continued, "because Kaz will absolutely keep us together at all times."
You hummed thoughtfully, "How do you know that?"
There was an immediate answer, no moment of hesitation from your sharpshooter, "He simply can't handle how fantastically amazing I am on his own, knowing I am far superior and so will continue to pair us together to avoid having to face that foe."
"Jes, honey, he could partner you with Inej or Nina or Matthias, you know that, right?"
He was stumped and his mouth opened before closing once more.
the cards were still not handed back though
don't worry, new ones were purchased after Jesper insisted on 'clinging' to the other pack like a lifeline, according to Kaz
he did find out about this after you saved his ass in a fight with them
he was so mad, not that you'd defied him but that you had put yourself in danger with the cards
but after Inej pointed out he had to trust you at some moment in time, he softened
because how could you think he didn't trust you?
he didn't ever want you to have to answer that question and set about trying to rectify the situation
you received breakfast in bed and apology cuddles
"I trust you."
It was the mantra he had been repeating for days and you smiled as your hand came to rest upon his jawline.
"I know, darling. I know."
You were met with a soft kiss to your collarbone as his head dipped to fall into the crook of your neck, wrapping his arms around your waist in a tight but gentle hug.
He hummed before continuing, "Just wanted to make sure, honey."
the cards were left wordlessly on your bedside table, drawing a small sated smile from your lips
after he came to terms with the fact that you were a Dreg, a Crow, someone who would be targeted because you were entwined with him, he became just a little overprotective
not that you minded
just reassuring him often you were okay and he was too
after Wylan came along, you politely requested to know if he could make some kind of thing that would make the cards easier to collect
he came up with the idea of a magnetic substance that could be brushed over the centre of the cards, meaning if you kept one in your hand and waved it over the others, there would be no time delay in which you would have to pick them up
again
the added weight, even such a small increment, affected the momentum needed and angle necessary
for days, you were flinging your cards at a wall, barely stopping to eat, wanting to be useful
Jesper dragged you back to bed several times in the early mornings with coaxing syllables and sweet words, promises on how you would get it right tomorrow
"Sweetheart, just come back to bed. Wait a few hours and try again. You're so close to getting this. I just know it."
As you wrapped yourself in the comforter his hand came to stroke your cheek, "There you go, see, you were looking half asleep on your feet, doing yourself no good anyway, lovely. Or those cards."
when witnessing your physical combat skills, Jesper would let a surprised chuckle fall, not fully in control of himself
watching you flip an enemy who had underestimated you over your shoulder never got old
neither did seeing your boot swivel slightly on their chest as you proved just how skilled you were
awww such pure and innocent love
"Don't think I won't beat you in a fight again, Lion. Or there won't be another opportunity for you to."
"That's my partner!"
"Alright Jes, bit much but thanks for hyping me up."
Just as you turned and both of you were about to walk away, a cold and clammy hand clamped over your ankle and you instantaneously recoiled.
Then, before Jesper or the Dime Lion knew what was happening, your fist connected with his stomach, hand coming up to cover your false and exaggerated yawn.
"So cool." Was whispered from your sharpshooter as you stalked off, boots clicking on the gravel pavement.
he had forced you into a chair, begging you to let him take care of your now bruising knuckles and you begrudgingly agreed
"Wasn't so bad, huh?"
"Don't push it." Was the joking response as his arm slung over your waist, and his thumbs brushed over the bandage he had applied so carefully as his hand covered the one you had let hang at your hip.
"Wouldn't dream of it, darling. Don't have the foggiest why you would assume such of me."
if you ever couldn't handle the entire situation and obtained an injury, Jesper would stay by your side
when a minor one, like a small gash on your forehead appeared, he would insist on personally caring for it
and if major, he would hold your hand, allowing you to squeeze it as hard as you wanted when the pain became too much
the same went for the other way round, you giggling at bandages wrapped all around his head like a bandana
but only after you knew he was alright
if tears filled your eyes, caused by relief, his thumb would come up to brush them away and slightly pull the corners of your mouth into a weak and wavering smile
"I'm alright. I'm okay, honey, you just remember that."
the both of you would press gentle goodnight kisses to each others foreheads or lips, forgetting a bruise or cut
this would end in frantic apologies and inevitable laughter when you kept speaking over one another
basically, Jesper thinks you're so badass, amazing and fantastic, reminding you just how highly he regards you everyday
you will protect him and he will protect you, no matter what
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youryanderedaddy · 3 years
Note
Hello, do you accept order? If yes, you could make a single one shot of Yandere! Brat Spoiled, please...
What would it be like if Yandere were the son of wealthy parents who always have everything they want, when they don't always get what they like, always act like a spoiled brat (and also his parents are afraid of their son, as they have already seen what he is capable of when he gets angry)... that's where the reader comes in. She is a new student at school, a nice and kind person, so the yandere knows her and falls in love so strongly that she never felt that way in life, but the reader is always rejecting her advances for being a spoiled brat and the way he treats the people around you.
What happens next?
Title: Eat the poor
Tw: non - consensual touching, obsessive/possessive behavior, violence, low-key bullying, blackmail / coercion, reader is in university
Part 2
It had started during your very first year of college, back when you still felt motivated to go to school and meet new people. You had heard the rumors about him before ever meeting his gaze and oh, did they disappoint.
You met Gabrielle for the first time when the snowdrops bloomed and the birds returned home – in the early autumn, at night, in a small crowded room reeking of alcohol, sweat and cheap cologne which you quickly realized wasn’t his. The man smelt like the cigarettes he never got bored of and sweet caramel. He was wearing a big leather jacket and a pair of dark jeans, yet the simplicity of the outfit seemed to suit the expensive brands displayed on the clothing. In a way the student represented the typical youthful boyish beauty with his golden locks, eyes the color of the sky and frame tall and well – built. Yet his face remained motionless the whole night and his body stayed still despite the mass of bodies dancing around in rhythm. But then some poor unfortunate fool managed to bump into the male, spilling his drink all over him, and his pretty face quickly twisted into a mask of disgust and anger.
“You stupid piece of shit!” The male yelled shortly after as his fist connected with the stuttering boy’s stomach. His clear eyes were now two wild thunderstorms pouring rain and lightning over the tipsy guy who was nervously apologizing and promising to pay for the damages done. “Do you know how much this costs?” Gabrielle spat with venom and pushed the other onto the floor, bringing his black sneakers to that white shirt until there was a mark of dirt formed on the otherwise clean fabric. Everyone else in the room had stopped drinking now and all the eyes were pinned onto the two men yet no one had the courage to do anything. Your own heart was beating hard in your chest at the sudden display of unnecessary violence but you had always been a calm kid, a kind soul too scared of its own shadow to learn how to fight properly. So you had no idea what to do.
“My father can have you expelled, you know.” The blond man suddenly spoke out in a quiet eerie voice as he pressed his foot harder into the shorter boy’s stomach causing him to whimper and squirm. “Unless you are willing to beg for my forgiveness, that is.” The bully proposed with a sly smirk on his pink lips as he glared at the victim underneath. The student on the ground was clenching his eyes tight so no one could see the tears in them when he shook his head no. You finally decided you couldn’t let this inhumane scene go any further.
“Stop this madness right now!” You shouted manically, drawing all the attention to yourself as you made your way between the two men. Gabrielle immediately pinned his burning gaze on you in unhidden intrigue. “This is too cruel. He didn’t mean to bump into you. Please, leave him alone.” As much as you had wanted to curse at the spoiled rich boy there was this suffocating feeling in your lungs telling you to be careful and play the mediator. The others quickly started gasping and some were already gossiping at your reaction proving your point that the guy was indeed dangerous.
Then he looked you straight in the eyes with his deep blue ones. He chuckled softly before smacking his lips in an unpleasant way, his “tsk” sending shivers down your spine. You had fucked up. “Well, well, well… Looks like the new girl wants to play hero. How cliché.” The bully grinned as he let his gaze roam up and down your body, your cheeks turning red in return when having realized he was handsome even while doing something so vulgar. “But if you do want to help him so badly…” The golden – haired man paused for a moment pretending to be deep in thought. “Maybe we could have a little deal, bunny.” He moved his leg away from the sobbing boy and stepped in front of you. From this close you could feel the warmth of his skin and the sweet aroma of burnt sugar it radiated. Gabrielle tilted your chin up almost gently and whispered in your ear “Kiss me.”
You tried to break free from the uncomfortable pose but the student simply squeezed your jaw line harder, his eyes cold and calculating, following your every move. You mind went blank and foggy at the forced intimacy and you couldn’t think straight with his breath on your neck. It felt like the time had slowed down just so the sadistic snob could mess with you a little longer. You opened your mouth to voice your protests but fortunately you didn’t have to say anything because at the very same time the host of the party appeared, ready to stop the fight.
“Gabrielle, I’d have to ask you to leave.” The dark – haired junior growled enraged as he pushed the taller male away from you. You couldn’t help but smile at him in appreciation. He was the only one brave enough to help you after all. “You are ruining the party for everyone. ” The stranger continued. The blonde seemed irritated at the sudden interruptance yet it was obvious he was powerless against the owner of the house. Still he grit his teeth and signed in annoyance as he turned to face the host. “Fuck you, Jackson!” The man cursed but eventually moved towards the door, red with anger. “My father will hear about this.” He looked at you as he reached for the golden doorknob, his features softened. “See you around, bunny.”
This was the first time you met Gabrielle. You already wished it was the last.
-------------------------------------------------------
After the incident the snob seemed interested in you, blatantly so. He would eye you up in the halls like you were a shiny new toy in a claw machine and try to strike a conversation no matter how much you ignored him. The man never once apologized for what happened at the party but at least he didn’t bring it up so you counted it as a small victory. You gradually understood just how much power and money the heir had. His father owned casinos, hotels, banks and apparently even the university you two were studying in received major monthly donations by the big businessman. This explained why everyone was so scared of the blonde, especially when he did nothing but flaunt his status at the slightest inconvenience. And now he wanted you.
In your eyes the boy was just an annoying brat who lived off daddy’s hard work, there really wasn’t much to him that intrigued you. The male was handsome, pretty even, but his grades were terrible and his interests were bland and shallow, mostly involving expensive brands and grand parties. But the worst thing about him was his personality. The snob treated his friends like servants and his enemies like dirt, but you he rather saw as a challenge. Gabrielle would ask you out every time you were unlucky enough to run into him. The first time the man gave you so many roses you couldn’t even count them, the second he demanded your affection with a silver necklace in hand ready to cover your neck in his mark of ownerships. You couldn’t recall all the other gifts the blonde used to try and court you with but you remembered refusing each and every one.
“Why can’t you just give me a chance?” He exclaimed one day after you had just returned the expensive bracelet you had found in your locker. It was a dark winter night and the heir seemed irritated with you for the first time, his eyes a deep electric blue just like the sky. The man had you cornered against the wall but you were used to his pathetic attempts at intimidation. Yet today there was something different in the air around him, some small voice at the back of your head wondered whether this time he wasn’t just joking around. “Are you still angry about that little wimp I expelled, bunny?” Gabrielle asked contemptuously yet his pupils remained cold and distant. Once again he was too close for your liking, too close for you to function properly, but that was probably exactly what he wanted. You to be compliant and obedient like all the others who crawled and kneeled at the very sight of him. “Or are you sulking because I beat up Jones after he asked you out, hmm?” What? The blonde man was the one who gave Tony the black eye? But he had told you it was just a street fight… Why had your friend covered for the bully you both hated?
“Why would you do that to him?” You whispered, staring at the twisted boy in front of you. Your heart was beating fast and your blood was boiling hot in your veins but you couldn’t let him win by showing him how much his actions affected you. Gabrielle reached out and cupped your cheek gently before smirking mischievously. “He was trying to take something that belonged to me.” The heir said casually as if he was talking about the weather. His fingers were cold against your warm skin and you fought the urge to vomit right then and there. “I am not yours.” You spat out with poison and pushed his hand away from your face. Next thing you know his knee was separating your thighs, lifting your short black skirt up, his breath lingering on your neck. “S-stop.” You stuttered and tried to squirm out of his hold but the man easily caught your wrists and brought them above your head, pinning you further into the wall. He was stronger than he looked and you felt so small and helpless in that moment you could have cried if your stubbornness hadn’t prevailed.
“What don’t you like about me?” The blonde suddenly spoke out, his voice unnaturally broken and needy, bordering on a whine, crying out in desperation. You weren’t sure whether he was trying to manipulate you now or if he actually wanted you to answer so you decided to be honest anyways. “I hate the way you treat other people. I could never love someone as cruel as you.” You inhaled deeply, ready to voice all the painful thoughts you had kept inside since the beginning of the semester. “You are spoilt rotten. Metaphorically and literally.” The man was breathing sharply like a wounded animal after hearing your words and as much as you wanted to sympathize with him, you couldn’t bring yourself to after everything he had done to you and your friends. He was irredeemable. “Let me go.” You finally demanded, hoping to use him weakened emotional state to your advantage.
Instead Gabrielle clenched his teeth and squeezed down harder on your already bruised wrists causing you to whimper in dull pain. His eyes were wet but the tears had finally stopped just like his willingness to show you his vulnerable side. The man had tried being nice and sweet to you, patient, then mean and patronizing, and neither worked. So obviously it was time to become the terrifying bratty monster everyone was so keen on believed he was.
“Have you noticed how many people seem to go missing after talking to you just once?” The heir whispered in your ear as his free hand traveled down to your waist, drawing you into his hard chest. You groaned at the sudden realization that the snob was actually right, less and less guys seemed to show up to your shared lectures in the last few months, but you had always assumed they just needed a break from school. University was stressful after all. “Did you…” You started off but couldn’t find the right words. Did you force your father to expel them? Did you harm them? Maybe a part of you didn’t want to know the answer. “I did.” Gabrielle responded before you could even finish the sentence. The sly smirk you knew way too well adorned his lips and it wasn’t hard to see he had already won. “And I will keep doing it until you agree to be mine and mine alone.” The man stated confidently as he sucked the sensitive skin of your neck until you arched your back in shock, your eyes rolling up to the ceiling. “N-nhgg.” You whimpered as you felt his teeth dig into your warm flesh leaving a scarlet mark for all to see. “Come on, baby, we both know you are too good to let them suffer because of your own selfishness.” He taunted you as he left a line of small wet kisses along your exposed collarbone. You wanted to argue, to yell at him how you weren’t the crazy, selfish one, but deep down you knew it was pointless. Gabrielle had power and you had nothing to bargain with. He could have anyone yet he wanted to torment you. “Give into me. I promise I can make you happy if you let me.” The blonde uttered softly as his lips brushed against yours, almost touching them, following your reaction with his clear eyes. Your own were puffy and red from the tears but he didn’t seem to care much about your misery and discomfort. The man wished to own, not to please, but you couldn’t do anything. And of course you wouldn’t let him ruin the lives of the innocent. Of course your stupid heart was too good and human for your own good. So you closed your eyes and slowly connected your lips with him even though they tasted almost metallic, like blood and defeat.
“I knew you would come around, bunny.”
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sunsetmists · 3 years
Note
Can you do a scenario where satan and mc get sucked into a book together? pls and thank u
You had been several chapters into your reading of the Princess Bride when Satan flicked that fate-stained page, and let something wicked loose. The air had left your lungs as the room crumbled all around you. A vortex of wind, and sea-salt swept breezes poured outward from the ink which marred the page, and it took hold of you both, and dragged you within. The first thing you hear is laughter. Your eyelids give way to a vast darkness; stars flickering far more brightly in the sky than they ever had before. They were uncountable, only a milky whorl of light. Crinkling your nose, the scent of burning wood, and embers flood your senses. Twisting where you lay, you can make out three figures. One, which was the source of the hearty laughter was far larger than the other two. Another held curls which waterfalled down their back, and the last was impossibly small. As you try to push yourself onto your feet, you discover that your hands have been bound behind your back. Though you struggle against the bonds, they do not give. "What is this?" you shout, voice raising over the embers. The three figures turn towards you, and the smallest speaks: "Now, now, save your energy, sweetheart." he sneered. Squinting, you can just barely make out their faces for the first time. The largest seems almost hauntingly familiar to you, and without thinking, you ask: "Fezzik?" the enormous man tilts his head to one side, but it is the smallest which speaks again: "That oaf isn't going to help you." he remarked, with a laugh. If that was Fezzik, then... All of a sudden, a voice calls out through the darkness: "Avast ye' fiends!" through the film of embers, and smoke, you can make out a figure dressed in all black, with a mask obscuring his features. “What is all this now?” the man with the waterfall hair, Inigo, asked- his hand moving to the handle of his blade. From where he was standing atop a rock, the man in black announced: “I believe you foul men have something that doesn’t belong to you.” the edges of his lips turned up into a smile. “And I- the Dread Pirate Roberts have come to reclaim it!” his smile grew ever wider, and under his breath he muttered: “I’ve always wanted to do that.” the small man, Vizzini, shook his head, and then barked an order: “Deal with him.” to which Inigo rose from his place atop a log, unsheathing his weapon as he approached the man in black. As the pair shared words, and their blades began to sing against one another, you struggled against your binds- shifting over the sand until Fezzik thundered over, and lifted you up into his big, calloused hands. “Up we go.” he murmured, carrying you as one would carry a princess. Struggling within his grip, you raised yourself up over one shoulder, and looked back on the ongoing fight. From between crossed blades, the man in black met yours eyes with his own, which were a startling green: “Don’t worry.” he called, lips turned up one side of his face in a half-smile: “I’ll come for you!” it was as you looked into his eyes that your own widened. “Satan?” you screamed, digging your nails into the giant’s back as you tried to wrangle yourself free from his grasp.  Only, it was all in vain, and the clashing swordsmen slowly faded out of sight. The night was drawing long, now, and you could see the sun cresting just over the horizon- gentle rays clearing what appeared to be the top of a mountainside. It was nearly an hour later before you saw a shadowy figure trailing just paces behind you. You parted your lips to speak when Satan beat you to it: “You haven’t gotten rid of me yet!” a hand on one hip, he beamed from ear to ear. The giant, Fezzik, slowly turned to face the man in black: “You haven’t given up yet.” he remarked, and Satan shook his head: “How could I give up when you have the most irreplaceable person in all the realms?” you resisted the urge to roll your eyes. Something seemed to shift in Fezzik’s demeanor as he regarded the man in black, and slowly, he placed you down onto the ground. You had begun to hurry towards Satan when small hand made its way around your waist: “Now, now, you aren’t going anywhere.” Vizzini smile, leading you away from the pair. As you looked backward, you caught sight of Fezzik slamming his meaty fist down onto Satan’s shoulder, and a horrendous crack sounded throughout the mountaintop. Instinctively, you gasped, but as Satan rolled to one side, clutching his arm, you heard him say: “You should really know better than to cross a pirate.” You didn’t have the chance to see what happened next because Vizzini had begun to pull you down the slope of a hill where it bottomed out into a valley. Wildflowers sprouted up from deep within the dirt, and with one, solid push, Vizzini threw you to the ground. You coughed as a rock hit the center of your chest, dust rising on the air in front of you as the small man began to tighten your bindings. With another motion, he laced a swath of fabric over your mouth, preventing you from opening it. The sun had risen higher, now. Nearby, you could see Vizzini rummaging within a bag. A moment later, before you could even grasp a hold of your surroundings, Satan began to barrel down the slope. “It’s time to give it up.” he called, his chest rising and falling rapidly as he caught his breath- sword in the devil’s grip as he approached. Vizzini paused his rummaging to raise both of his hands: “I am no threat to you, that much is obvious.” he began, and Satan raised an eyebrow. “Still, I can’t just let you take them.” the little man continued, gesturing with one raised hand towards where you lay. “So what do you intend to do?” the man in black asked, holding the blade towards Vizzini. This is when the small man lowered his hands, slowly, and pulled a pair of goblets out of his bag. Placing them down upon a flattened stone, he then retrieved a cask of wine. “I propose a game.” he began, pouring a bit of wine into each goblet. Slowly, Satan lowered his sword, and slid it into its sheath. “Within this locket is a sachet of iocane powder, one of the most deadly poisons known to man.” Vizzini tugged at a locket around his neck, and threw it towards the man in black. “You may poison the goblet of your choosing, and then present each to yourself, and I. I will have my choice of one, and you will drink the other. Whoever drinks the poisoned wine loses. Simple enough for you?” the little man raised an eyebrow, a smug smile upon his lips. Protest died on your lips as you squirmed beneath your bindings, and briefly, Satan flicked his gaze to you. Even through that slash of black fabric, you could make out his striking emerald eyes. After a moment of contemplation, Satan returned his gaze to Vizzini: “Very well.” the smile on the short man’s lips grew wider. Taking both goblets in hand, the Devil took them around to his back, certain Vizzini could not see them there, and then deposited the poison. You only wish you could have seen which goblet he had dropped it into. The goblets returned to their places, Vizzini placed both hands on his knees, and regarded Satan’s shrouded face. A moment passed, and then the little man began to speak: “All I have to do is divine from what I know of you: are you the sort of man who would put the poison into his own goblet, or his enemy’s? Now-” the words died before they left his lips. Blood bubbled up from the pit of Vizzini’s stomach, the length of a thin blade disappearing into fabric, and flesh as Satan twisted it in his gut. The little man’s eyes widened, for a moment, and his hands desperately clutched at the wound, but it was already too late. “You see, much as I find the prospect of this little game charming, I can’t overlook what you’ve done to my precious cargo.” Satan reached for a goblet, bringing the edge to his lips as he let the tart swill drift down his throat. As he swallowed, he continued: “In fact, it’s made me quite angry.” the words dripped from his lips with a venom that set your skin afire. The devil rose to his feet, dropping the locket and the empty sachet of iocane powder down onto the stone slab. Resting a foot atop Vizzini’s hip, Satan looked down at him with unfeeling eyes, tilting his head to one side. “But don’t think that you would have won with wit, either.” he breathed, wrapping his hand around the handle of his sword. Satan leaned downward, a smile creeping up his lips: “I poisoned both goblets.” he murmured, just before wrenching the sword out of its resting place in Vizzini’s gut. With one, smooth motion, he slid the sword back into its sheath, and for the first time since before the game began, turned his gaze onto you. The corners of Satan’s eyes widened, for a moment, before softening. “A built up immunity to iocane powder does wonders for a man, don’t you think?” he murmured, helping you to your feet before unwinding the knot of the gag at the back of your head. The second you could breathe freely again, you asked: “Did you really have to let it go on for so long?” and Satan only half-laughed, a hand on your cheek as he peered down at you through his mask. “Careful, now, I have half the mind to leave you in your shackles.” he remarked, tugging gently on the rope which bound your hands together. You looked up at the devil with defiant eyes, stumbling a bit forward as he tugged. “I’m only joking.” Satan insisted, working at the knotted mess with careful fingers. In a moment, it gave way, and your wrists were once again free. Only, the second you taste freedom, the sounds of trumpets going off in the distance becomes audible. “What is that?” you ask Satan, jerking your gaze towards a small company of horsemen, galloping down the hill. Following your gaze, Satan sighs: “That’s Prince Humperdink, your would-be husband.” he offered, grabbing a hold of your wrist. “You’re joking.” you reply with an incredulous expression, but the rush with which he hurries you forward, towards the wood, affirms his seriousness. “Where are we going?” you ask, casting a glance backward as the group grows closer. “The Fire Swamps.” Satan replied, leading the way through shrubbery, and foliage. Thorns dug their way into the fabric of your clothes, tearing at your cheek, though the devil took the brunt of it all- his arm out in front of him to deflect the branches. Only, as you neared what you thought was a clearing, Satan came to an abrupt stop. Catching yourself on his arm, you peer down to find that the forest floor breaks off into a deep ravine. “What are we-” you began, but Satan broke your chain of words: “You need to push me.” he explained. “Push you? What are you--” the sounds of footsteps in the distance grow louder, but it is the abruptness of Satan’s lips upon yours that silences your voice. Your eyes grow wide at the edges, and his gentle hand lifts your chin. The feeling of his lips against yours is faint, and feverish; flush with the breathy heat of the chase as they melt against you. Instinctively, you move to push him off of you- your hands colliding with his chest as his feet push off of the edge of the cliff, and the ground disappears beneath him. “Not now-” you begin, only to realize what you have done. Branches catch and snare on Satan’s clothes as he tumbles down the slope of the ravine, and from within its belly, he calls: “As you wish.” his voice echoes throughout the ravine, and guilt brewing in your chest, you slip down the edge just the same, and begin the descent. The world collapses around you; twigs, dirt, and rock all fading into one violent blur which batters you over, and over again. When you reach the bottom, the air is knocked clean out of your lungs, but the ground beneath you feels oddly soft. A groan sounds just beneath your chest, and pushing up, you realize you’ve landed atop the fool who first got you into this mess. “You’re really an idiot, you know.” you remark, and Satan lets out a pained laugh. “Of all the things people have ever thought of me- idiot was never one of them.” he murmured, brushing a stray strand of hair behind your ear. In that instant, the unruly spell which had bound the both of you to the pages of that book unwound itself, and your surroundings melted away.
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plus-size-reader · 3 years
Text
The Right Time
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Newt x Plus size!reader
Word Count: 2423 words
Warnings: none
Summary: The reader wants to be a runner but the boys decide she won’t be able to, and Newt doesn’t understand why.
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You couldn’t help but sigh as you watched Minho, heading into the maze for a full day of running and memorizing the ever changing labyrinth that surrounded you all.
More than anything in the world, you wanted to do that.
While most of the gladers were content to stay where they were most comfortable, you didn’t worry about the secrets or dangers that may lay beyond the threshold  of the fields you had grown so familiar with.
You wanted to see
From the moment you found out what it was, you wanted to experience what those stone walls kept hidden from you. It seemed like the most exciting job the glade had to offer, and frankly, you were desperate to experience it.
There had to be something there.
Whatever it was, you were sure that it would be more exciting than working in the kitchen, where you currently spent most of your time.
If only it was that easy.
The glade had rules, rules that you couldn’t just go around breaking willy-nilly if you didn’t want to face the consequences. One of those rules was that you had to get permission from the group before doing almost anything.
If you wanted a new job, especially, the rest of the group had to agree to it.
While it may have seemed ridiculous most of the time, that was how you all managed to maintain any semblance of order in this place. If you all just did what you wanted all the time, you wouldn’t have made it this three years.
You wouldn’t have made it a week.
As much as you wanted to just waltz right through those walls when the maze opened up, you couldn’t do it without permission, which you were having quite a hard time getting.
It seemed like it should have been easy.
Everyone here had a job to do and as long as you did the job you were assigned, it would all work out just fine. If you wanted to work somewhere else, you didn't see what the problem was, but clearly you were the only one who was blind to it.
As soon as you mentioned your intentions to Gally over serving breakfast, he’d all but laughed in your face.
“There’s no way that’s gonna happen” he scoffed, making it abundantly clear to you that he thought what you were suggesting was a bad idea. After all, there was a reason you were a cook. Frypan needed help, and you were pretty good at it.
There was no reason to mess with a system that already worked as it was supposed to. You all had your parts to play in this place surviving, and just because you were a little bored over the stove didn’t mean you could just stop playing that part.
...And, evidently, he wasn’t the only one who felt that way.
At first, you decided not to give up hope.
There were plenty of people who got a say in this and just because Gally, the eternal pessimist, didn’t believe in you, that didn’t mean the decision was made. The chances that everyone in the glade felt the same way he did were slim.
Right?
You wanted to believe that but as soon as you brought it up with the others, you realized just how wrong you had been. To the best you could tell, not one of them was willing to take a chance on you.
As far as your dreams were concerned, the meeting they held was more or less a massacre.
The general consensus was that you didn’t have what it took to be a runner and they were very clear about that. Not one of the men present even attempted to spare your feelings, because they had no reason to.
To them, the reason for the refusal was clear as day.
You just weren’t runner material.
“Hey, you get why it isn’t a good idea, don’t you?” Alby hummed, his tone as gentle as it could have been given the circumstances as he did his best to bring the conversation to a close. The best place for you was the kitchen, and as much as he didn’t want to upset you, that was just what it was.
He, and all the others, had to look out for this place and they had to do what was best for it.
You nodded, turning to leave the hut as quickly as you could before anyone actually got a chance to see how upset you were. Rightfully, your feelings were hurt but letting them see how badly was only going to solidify what they were all thinking.
...and it wouldn't change anything.
As much as you appreciated Alby trying to be kind to you over it, his kind smile was hardly enough to actually make you feel better. At the end of the day, you understood exactly what they were trying to say in not so many words.
You weren’t good enough.
You couldn’t do this.
Ideally, you would have stayed until the end of the meeting, to save face if for nothing else but you just couldn’t. The whole room was poison for you now, full to the brim with how little faith they had in you.
That was just what it was.
No matter what you did, you knew that they were all thinking the same thing deep down and didn’t want to admit it.
You weren’t thin, you weren’t overly athletic, and you were a girl.
The only girl.
In that regard, at least Gally’d had the guts to just say what he was thinking to your face without patronizing you.  He may have been an asshold about it but he didn’t mince his words in a desperate attempt to pretend like he cared about you.
He just said what he wanted to say.
Though, as you walked into the glade, the sun creeping down behind the walls, you knew that it was partially your fault. All they could do was look at you from the outside, and if that was all they saw, of course it was easy for them to come to the conclusion they had.
You knew better than anyone what you looked like but you also knew that you could do this. All they had to do was give you a chance, and you would be able to prove it. You knew that you could do something to make a difference in this place, all they had to do was let you.
Though, had you been in their position, you weren’t sure you would have stuck your neck out for someone like you either.
The risk was just too great.
If they were right about you, but chose to send you out into the maze anyway, you would have gotten yourself killed, or even worse, you could get Minho killed.
That was hardly a risk you could ask them to take.
They didn’t trust you, and because of that doubt, you weren’t sure you trusted yourself either. At least in the kitchen, you couldn’t get anyone else hurt. It would just be easier for all of them if you kept your mouth shut and did as you were told.
They all seemed to think so.
Well, all but one.
“Where are you going?” he called, his heavy british accent meeting your ears from outside the hut, because of course he would be the one to chase after you.
You had been so focused on getting out of there that you didn’t even realize Newt was standing from the crowd. You were so in your own head, walking with your mind clouded in thought that you hadn't noticed him following you.
Unfortunately for you.
As much as you were sure he wanted to help, to soften the blow just as Alby had, there was nothing he could say that would make it any better.
He had always been kind to you, and if there was one among them who would feel bad for how things had gone down, it was Newt. However, you weren’t sure that even he would be able to do anything that would lift your spirits.
It was what it was.
...But Newt didn’t believe that.
As best you were doing to keep the truth from him, he could tell that you were upset. Though, you were really trying to hide it, a small smile on your face as he approached that was nearly good enough to convince him.
“Just walking, what’s up?” you asked, trying to be as casual as possible, though this was the farthest from casual you’d ever felt.
This morning, you’d had so much hope for this conversation, and now that it was over, you felt like an idiot. How could you have actually believed that they would let you out in the maze? You had no business being there.
All this time you’d spent thinking this was going to work out, days wasted planning just how you would ask, it was all for nothing. Not to mention that every guy in the glade thought you were a joke.
Normally, it wouldn’t have mattered but how were you not supposed to be taken seriously after that? Gally basically said all you were good for was serving dinner.
“I know you better than that” the blonde countered, a small smile on his face as he watched you, followed by a tiny nudge of his elbow.
You clearly weren’t just walking.
There was something going on, and the fact that you would even trying to hide the state you were in from him was enough to upset him. Newt thought you were closer than that, that you could be honest with him.
You sighed, turning to look at him, really look at him for the first time in this whole conversation. He couldn’t understand it, what it was like to have to fight just to have everyone else see you as their equal, which wasn’t even the worst part.
The worst part was that they had never seen you on their level, and what little progress you had made in that regard was all gone now.
You wanted something and it was just out of reach, no one understood that better than he did.
This was hard for you, and even if you were lying about it to him, that wasn’t going to change how much it hurt.
You didn’t have to lie to him.
“I’m sorry, I really am” he started, after a few moments of silence. The sun was going down, meaning as the minutes ticked by, he could see less and less of your face, but that didn’t matter. The moon gave enough of a glow for him to see what all he needed to.
Newt could see the way you tightened your jaw to keep the tears from coming, and how your eyes sparkled in the moonlight.
More than anything though, he could see the way you fiddled with your fingers to busy yourself. You had always done that, even when you first came up in the box.
It was easier than looking him in the eye.
You didn’t want his pity, or his sympathy for what you had done. You just wanted to be alone, or at least, you thought you did.
When you really stopped to consider what that would mean, you knew it was a lie.
As much as you thought crawling into a hole and never leaving would make you feel better, it wouldn’t change anything. It wouldn’t change you, or what you’d done, or what they thought about you. Hiding from it wasn’t going to do anything.
All you could do was keep going, like you’d been doing all this time.
“I voted yes, if that helps” Newt tried, reaching out to take your right hand. Not only did it stop you from fidgeting, but it also startled you just enough. The last thing you’d been expecting was for him to do something like that.
...But it wasn’t as if he had much of a choice. What he was about to say was important, and he didn’t want you to miss it.
“I’ll talk to Minho, maybe you can start training with him and then we can ask again” he offered, giving your hand a small squeeze. It was far from what he wanted to do but it was a start.
Really, he was just shocked that they had all said no to begin with. From where he was sitting, you were just as capable of doing it as any of them, but he’d been voted out. That was just how things worked around here, but it wasn't the end.
Not if he had anything to say about it anyway.
At the very least, you could get a taste of what it would be like. Not to mention that would give him some time to wear down the others toward your cause.
“You don’t have to do that. I get it” you shrugged, sure that even if you were to let him do as he’d offered to, it wouldn't change anything. Still, it did force you to consider something you hadn’t thought about before.
No one had ever done anything like that for you, and you couldn’t help but wonder why he was being so kind. You knew he cared about you but to go that far? It just seemed like a little much. “I want’ to” he smiled again, bumping you with his shoulder in the most endearing way he could, which was really his only way of communicating his fondness to you. It was something you both knew about, but chose to ignore.
It was complicated.
“Thank you-” you hummed, gingerly throwing your arms around his neck without even thinking about it. All things considered, it wasn’t that big of a deal, but it was the closest you two had ever been.
The way you felt for Newt seemed simple enough and as best you could tell, he felt the same way but you weren’t in a position to explore that with him now.
“Don’t mention it” Newt replied, his words nothing more than a small whisper in your ear, before you backed away.
Then, in the most awkward fashion of your life, you said goodbye.
It was the last thing you wanted to do, but this just didn’t seem like the right time for this. Just like maybe this wasn’t the right time for you to go into the maze.
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