#of course I’ll give even if I’m saving the money they always insist

[wally-darling-hyperfixation]

I was wondering about this idea for a while, but what about Wally with a parent reader? As in, the reader is parent of a kid watching the show, and Wally can see the room that the viewers are watching from. Wally notices the reader in the background and becomes interested in them. Idk I just thought it was an interesting idea. OwO

Yes. I’ll definitely will do this for one of my favorite authors on here . Art by @winslowsfaust I believe. I found their art on here so of course Like clown said. If you like a picture make sure to give credit

The Show Must Go on Darling: Wally x Parent g/n Reader

Today was a showing of your kid, Zoey’s favorite show Welcome Home. You always saw how she loved it at home so you worked double shifts to save up extra money to take her. She was all smiles and giggles and you enter the studio. You are a single parent and life can be hard but you love your little angel so much you’d do anything to make her smile. You and her sit together in the audience area , separate from the stage by a wall and window to show the show but also make sure the kids don’t run up and mess up the puppets. You look around. And it seems you are the only adult here with your child except from security. They must be regulars and their parents trust the studio enough to leave them here alone. The opening them song plays and a card board welcome home comes down from ceiling and rolls back up and the lights turn on , on the other side of the wall and a puppet with blue hair says , “Welcome neighbor, how are you today?” The kids say how they are including your angel and you smile fixing her hair. You are very surprised at how well the puppets are moving like they are alive ,which they are but the audience doesn’t know. Since the kids started squishing your daughter Zoey you put her on your lap and watch the episode they are recording.

Wally smiles at the kids and starts todays episode asking his question . But this time he is a bit shocked when he asks. There is an adult in the audience. Usually it’s only children sitting and watching them do their bits and such. He just couldn’t stop his eyes from always going back to them. They seem to have a kid they deeply cared for which says something because all the other kids parents ditch them here. As todays problem of accidentally messing up Howdy’s shop today with Julie happened. He was always looking at the audience the whole time. While he and Julie hide away from howdy. While Poppy gets onto them for it and saying they have to do the right thing. To them going to Howdy and saying they are sorry and will clean everything up. To howdy giving them both a hug and then brooms and a mop. To the store being cleaned and it late in the evening as Julie and Wally separate and Wally heads to home. Wally says “Well thank you neighbor for helping out today. We sure made a mess. I hope to see you again …. Really soon.” Wally smiles wide and waves heading back into Home and the lights go off and all the kids cheer.

You smile as Zoey laughs and smiles on your lap happily . “Well sweetheart, I hope you had a lovely day. I know how much you love this show and I just wanted to show you I love you,” you say and give her forehead a kiss. She jumps off your lap and reaches for you hand and y’all head to the exit. Suddenly a man ran up to you panting yelling wait. You turn around and stopped worried about the man and wait cause you felt bad. “ I’m Ronald Dorelaine, creator of welcome home and the neighborhood. One of our staff members would like to offer you life time passes for the show,” he says talking in breathes from running so fast. You gasp and shake your head, “oh no we couldn’t take that. We know how expensive it is to make the show and don’t want to take money and time out of your budget.” You smile and shake your head , not knowing a puppet was watching through the window glaring at Ronald. “No I insist you have it. Our main star wants y’all to come back more. We appreciate you watching the show and hope to see you again,” he said swearing either from running or nervous and gives y’all two passes then runs away. Little Zoey squeals and hugs hers. “(P/n) (that means parent name) we can come back whenever a new taping is. Oh can we please,” Zoey says practically giving puppy dog eyes. You sigh and nod. “I’ll make sure to take days off on the day of the shows for you Zoey,” you say and she squeals grabbing your hand and pulling you out of the studio. Not knowing a puppet was very happy and whispering, “ See you again, neighbor.”

I/////////////////////1/////////////9/////////7////////////1/

I hope you like it. I had fun writing it!!!!!

#wally darling x reader #welcome home x you #welcome home #welcome home fandom #welcome home x y/n #welcome home wally #welcome home x reader #wally x y/n #wally darling #wally darling x you #wally darling x self insert #i love wally #wally x reader #wally darling x y/n

[shouldershimmycity]

It's Not Easy Pt. 2 (Bradley Bradshaw x Reader)

Summary: You and Bradley were friends for years before you became more, and had to go through a lot of trials and heartache before that. You were always there for him when he needed you most. This is the story of how you grew to love Bradley, and how he grew to love you in return.

TW: Swearing, drinking, death, talk of heaven and dead parents, SO MUCH CRYING. Sadness. Suggestion of *ahem* self pleasure. (That's right, we're getting SPICY over hereeeee)

Friends to Lovers requested by @iefitzgerald-blog

I hope you guys like it, please comment and let me know 🥰 I love reading them. Also let me know your opinion for Part 3 here.

*****

Knocking on Maverick’s front door, you waited quietly for the man to answer. When he finally opened the door, you realized that he looked like you: having gotten minimal sleep the night before. His face fell when he realized you were alone.

“Hi Mav,” you greeted awkwardly, and he moved out of the way to let you in. 

“Is Bradley okay?” he asked, and you hesitated on whether or not you wanted to give him the full story. You loved Mav, you did, but Bradley was your wingman, and you weren’t going to let his uncle try and block him again.

“Not really,” you confessed, shrugging your shoulders at him, “I mean, how would you feel if someone you trusted pulled your chance to fulfill your dream?” He looked hurt, but it wasn’t your intention. The words came out as gentle as they could, but there was no way for it to be sugar coated. You put your hands up in defense.

“Listen, Mav, I’m only here to grab Bradley’s things. He’s made the decision to stay at my house for the rest of senior year, and we’re clearing out the extra room in the basement for him. I’m not part of this, I’m just trying to help him,” you stated, turning to move down the hall to Bradley’s room.

Most of his stuff was still at Carole’s house, which he could have stayed at, but there was no one there to pay for utilities every month. Without even bringing it up to you OR Bradley, your parents offered him a place to stay. You were happy that they were willing to help him, and that your mom was starting to get past her worries. 

You grabbed the empty suitcase that Bradley had brought all of his stuff in, and began grabbing his clothes from the closet and tossing them into it. He had a few framed pictures that you placed in between all of the clothing to protect them. There was a picture of his mom and dad when they had gotten married, him and his mom at a baseball game in middle school, and a picture of the two of you down at Pensacola in Florida. For yours and Bradley’s birthdays your moms had brought you down to see the Blue Angels show that year. That’s when you two had absolutely decided you were going to fly, it was a done deal. 

Ignoring the sadness in your heart that started to grow, you went back about your business, grabbing what little else he had around the room and closing the suitcase tight. Sliding his backpack on, you lifted the suitcase and turned to see Maverick standing in the doorway of the room. 

“I know I’m not part of this… but I don’t think I’ll be seeing you for a while, Mav,” you said quietly, and apologetically. The hurt on his face only weighed your heart down more, and you moved forward to hug the older gentleman. Despite what happened and what was yet to come, you felt for him. Deep down you knew there was something going on that maybe you would never understand, and that was okay. 

“I’ll try and keep in touch,” you promised, stepping away from him to lift the suitcase once more, you passed him and turned back only once at the door to whisper a small goodbye to him, tears now coming from both of you.

*****

Bradley had gotten a job at a small family owned grocery store in town, insisting that since he was living with your family that he could help pay for groceries and bills. Of course, they simply put a show on for him, accepting the money every month only to put it in a savings account that they planned to present him with once he went off to college. If he went off to college. Unfortunately, since Bradley had been hoping for admittance to the naval academy, he didn’t apply anywhere else. There were only two places whose deadlines didn’t already pass. UVA was his goal, and the two of you had been waiting anxiously for a letter to appear in the mail. 

The lights were turning off for the night, and Bradley had another hour of work before he could go, but when he was mopping the floor behind the deli counter where he worked he heard banging and a surprised shout. 

“Ma’am we are CLOSED! We close early on Sundays!” his boss said apologetically, and Bradley had poked his head around the corner to see his boss had opened the door to speak to someone. What he didn’t expect was for you to be that someone. When you caught his eye, you shouted his name and raised an envelope over your head triumphantly. 

“UVA!” you informed him, and he ran over to grab the letter. 

“I am so sorry, Mr. Als, I couldn’t wait to get this to him, it’s too important,” you apologized, watching him open the letter, “I’ll even help you guys clean if that helps at all.”

Mr. Als shook his head, chuckling now at your antics, and was thoroughly invested in what the letter contained.

Bradley read the letter, his face showing no emotion as he did so. Finally, he looked up at you with joyful eyes. 

“I got in,” he smiled, and you tackled him into a hug. Mr. Als whooped and his wife clapped from behind you guys, as she had witnessed the interaction. 

“Congratulations, son,” he said, clapping him on the back. Bradley was a hard worker, and he was fond of him. 

“Dear, why don’t you head home early tonight. You and your girlfriend can go celebrate together,” Mrs. Als smiled sweetly. Both you and Bradley made the same sounds of protest.

“She’s not–”

“We’re not–”

“No dating–” 

“We’re friends–”

“Friends–”

Mr. Als winked at Bradley and you blushed, and Bradley announced that he would go put his apron away and that he would meet you outside. 

While you waited in your truck, you saw Mrs. Als pull Bradley aside for a few seconds, then pat him on the back before letting him go for the night. His face went red and he was laughing when he opened the truck door. The bronco was currently getting repairs, so you had been bringing him back and forth to work for a few days. 

“What was that about?” you chuckled, and Bradley shook his head.

“Nothing,” he assured, but when he looked at you, his breath hitched and so did yours. Something about the way he looked at you was different now, and you weren’t sure what it was, but you didn’t want it to stop.

*****

Thursday after school, Bradley pulled the bronco into your driveway, the both of you hopping out with backpacks in tow. You were two weeks away from graduation and you couldn’t be more excited. Things, although difficult, were starting to look up for Bradley, and he had been so happy since his acceptance to UVA. 

Dropping your bags on the dining room table, you both made your way into the kitchen while chatting animatedly. 

He grabbed some waffles out of the freezer and threw four in the toaster. Bradley grabbed the butter and you opened the cabinet to grab the syrup. That's when you saw it. 

The stamp was the official Naval Academy logo, and your name was printed in neat little letters on a label that was placed in the dead center of the envelope. Shaking slightly, you reached out to grab it, staring at it when Bradley noticed your silence. 

“What’s wrong?” he asked, concerned, and you turned the paper to show him what it was; unsure of how he would react. He swallowed, nervous, but altogether he seemed to be alright with it. 

“Open it?” he asked, wanting to hear the result for your own future. 

Slowly, you tore away at the envelope corners, running your thumb through the paper until the letter inside was revealed. Pulling it out, fingers unfolding the page, your eyes scanned over the paper, not wanting to miss a single detail. If Bradley couldn’t hear your heart beating, you would be surprised. Finally your eyes found the words you were looking for.

“I was accepted,” the words filled the kitchen and Bradley stepped forward to envelop you in a hug. Your apology came out of your mouth before you could stop it, and Bradley pulled away to hold you at arms length. Behind him, the waffles popped out of the toaster.

“Do not apologize,” he ordered, wiping the tears from your cheeks tenderly, “you completely turned everything around for me in the past couple months, you deserve to have a victory. I know we won’t be together like we wanted to be, but you deserve this. Every bit of it. You have always been in my corner, always, and now it’s my turn.” 

He was brushing his thumb on your cheek, which slowly had moved down to your jaw. His other hand tucked your hair behind your ear, and he was looking at you the way he did a few days ago, something different in his eyes. Slowly, he brought his forehead to yours, noses brushing softly. Your eyes fluttered closed just as his lips came to barely touch yours. 

The door slammed and you practically pushed Bradley away from you in surprise. He also looked shocked, and the whooping of your brother filled the house. 

“Guess who’s home fuckers!” he shouted, and you huffed.

“You, unfortunately,” you groaned, and your brother appeared at the top of the stairs. 

“Shut up, you know you love me,” he chided, dropping his bags and grabbing you into a hug that you tried to resist.

“Let go of me, buttmunch!” you pushed in vain at the bigger man child who was attempting to hug you, and Bradley just laughed. You had forgotten that his college let out today.

“Hey! Bradshaw! Nice to see you man!” he fist bumped Bradley, “sorry to hear about the Naval Academy, man, I’m glad you’re staying with us though,” he said honestly, “congrats on UVA!” your friend scratched the back of his head shyly.

“Thanks,” he simply said. 

Your brother turned to grab his bags, pulling them along into his room. When he closed the door, you cleared your throat and walked off towards the toaster.

“Waffles are uh– gonna get cold,” you mumbled, putting them on a plate and Bradley agreed, grabbing the ones you handed over to him with a thank you. 

For the rest of the night, you awkwardly kept the ball rolling, hoping for absolutely no free space in which Bradley could address the elephant that now filled the room. Only when you closed the door to your bedroom that night did you let yourself think about it. 

You had grown to be somewhat attracted to Bradley. He had ended up handsome, of course, but you never thought anything would come of it. In your mind, Bradley had other girls he was interested in, and while you were his best friend, you would never be more than that. 

The beginning of senior year, the attraction had gotten really bad, especially after the shower incident. The way he looked at your body had embarrassed you at first, but you had actually decided you liked it. Only once did you allow yourself to imagine what it would be like with his mouth on your breasts. Sometimes you wondered if he thought the same thing. You usually hoped he did when you had a hand between your legs. Those thoughts would always end the same way, though, you’d shake your head to get them out of your mind, and pretend like you never thought of them. It was Bradley, after all.

Tonight was difficult, thinking about the almost kiss from earlier. You laid awake in bed, thinking about what could have happened if he had gone through with it. That's when it really hit you. Bradley tried to kiss you. Bradley. Tried to kiss you. He was the one who started it. Did he like you back? Could you even call it “like” at this point? Cause you sure as hell were hit with the brick that you loved him. You loved Bradley Bradshaw. Maybe, perhaps, he even loved you? You didn’t know.

*****

Both you and Bradley had backed off, unsure of how to proceed now; but that was okay. You both had so much going on in the next week and a half that you almost completely forgot about it. Prom was later that week, and you and Bradley had agreed to go together months ago. You had bought a red dress for the occasion, and Bradley had a red vest and tie to match. When you two were ready to go you told Bradley you had a surprise for him, but he had to take off his current tie. He obliged, and closed his eyes while you replaced it. 

When he opened his eyes, he turned and looked into the mirror in the hallway, surprisingly touched at what he found. It was his dad's wedding tie, he had insisted on wearing a Hawaiian themed one; and Carole thought it was hysterical so she encouraged it.

“I found it while we were cleaning out your mom's attic,” you smiled, “I know it doesn't really match, but I don’t care.” Bradley turned to look at you, a smile lighting his own face.

“I look hot,” he said, jokingly, and you laughed. He deeply appreciated it.

“You should think about growing a mustache,” you stated, and Bradley considered this.

“Y’know, I just might,” he looked in the mirror, debating.

*****

After graduation, summer was in full swing, and you and Bradley were doing well. The two of you were becoming closer, and you were both happy with the way it was going. Between work, friends, and preparing for school, you were both having an excellent time. But when the fall rolled around, you were both hit with the realization that you wouldn’t be able to see each other everyday anymore. It hurt, so you decided to spend as much time together as possible before you had to leave. 

Eventually, the time came, and Bradley saw you off at the academy with your parents. It hurt him that he wasn’t going with you, but it was okay, he’d be where he needed to be in the future. Bradley made some friends at UVA, and when you met them they told you about how he wouldn’t stop talking about you. He showed you around campus, and you became a regular face, making an appearance at least once a month. 

One night, you and Bradley were at a get together for the ROTC kids, and someone suggested playing a game called Paranoia. Basically, everyone sat in a circle and someone whispered a question into someone's ear. They would answer it out loud, then the asker would flip a coin. If it landed on heads the question was revealed, if it landed on tails the next person went and left everyone wondering. 

You and Bradley were sitting across from each other for two reasons. One, you had grown popular with the group, being from the academy so people wanted you to sit next to them; and two, the both of you were blocked from your shenanigans that way. 

Hanson was currently whispering a question into Bradley’s ear, and without skipping a beat he said yes as the answer. The circle ooh’ed and whooped as you raised an eyebrow at him, in curiosity. 

“Bradshaw’s seen your tits before?!” Hanson cried in surprise, without even flipping the coin; the circle erupted into chaos.

Your mouth dropped and Bradley covered his face in shame. I mean, you weren’t mad, it was true, he had seen your breasts by accident. 

“Oh my God, Bradley!” you shouted but were cracking up, as was he. 

Everyone was begging to hear the story, but you just put your hands up, calming them and explaining that it was an accident and it was through your shirt. When everyone had settled down, it was now Bradley’s turn to ask Marks a question. You shook your head, still embarrassed but finding it funny.

*****

You had just completed your second year of the academy, and Bradley was onto his junior year. Today you both had time off from work, he had devoted his summers to Mr. and Mrs. Als, who greatly appreciated his help. Every sunday you brought in a baked treat for them, and they loved having you around. You ended up working at the store that you and Bradley hid in forever ago, helping out Mrs. Silver. 

It was a beautiful day, hardly a cloud in the sky. Driving your old truck down to the beach, you and Bradley were singing at the top of your lungs. Normally the windows would be rolled down, but it was too hot; that was your only complaint. You were on the brief stretch of highway that brought you over to your favorite spot when the sound of metal on metal filled your ears, and your truck shifted. You whipped your head around to see an SUV pushing you along the highway, the driver unconscious. 

It’s like the next few seconds happened in the span of a minute for Bradley. You whipped your head to look at him, eyes fearful and wild, shrieking his name in panic. He felt his own eyes go wide. The SUV pushed past your truck and the wheel was yanked out from your hands, the other vehicle colliding once more with yours as it spun. The driver's side door was now crushed and you were screaming, desperately attempting to grab and hold onto the wheel, when the SUV pushed past your truck one more time. Your own truck spun now, hitting the barrier a few times and your truck resumed its upright position after flipping once. Neither you or Bradley were conscious when paramedics arrived.

Your eyes cracked open when you felt a hand running against your forehead, and you awoke to find yourself in the driver's seat of your truck in your driveway at home; not a scratch on the vehicle. Your window was rolled down and the birds were chirping pleasantly in the trees. 

“Hey,” the owner of the voice was gentle, and he spoke like he was sorry he had to wake you, “you’re okay, don’t worry.” Your eyes focused on the man who had woken you from your deep sleep, and you instantly recognized him from his Hawaiian shirt.

“Goose?” you questioned, and the man nodded politely, grasping your hand in his. You felt so heavy, like you were made of concrete.

“Don’t panic, you’re not ready for us yet,” he soothed, still brushing his right hand on your face and you nodded peacefully, “you’ll be back to your family in no time, you’ve got big things ahead of you, kid.” Smiling tiredly at him, he gripped your hand, calling your name to make sure you were listening, and you gave him your full attention.

“Thank you for taking care of Bradley,” he said, tears in his eyes. 

“It’s alright, Goose, I love Bradley,” you mumbled, smiling truly at the mention of your friend, mind still hazy, and he put his other hand out to grip your shoulder.

“Alright, brace yourself, kid. This is gonna hurt,” he warned, and before you could ask what he was talking about, a fiery electric shock ripped through your body. 

Your eyes opened, and you were faced with the sky. Goose was right, that did hurt. Several paramedics stood around you, working on getting you back. You were aware of AED pads stuck to your chest. While one called out that you were back, the other informed you that you were in a car accident. Everything flooded back to you, and the only thing you could focus on was Bradley’s panicked face before you had blacked out. 

“Bradley,” you called out, your voice strained. You attempted to sit up but paramedics held you down, instructing you not to move. When you became angry with them, you felt a prick on your arm. Your voice slowly began to slur and drop in volume as you fell back to sleep.

Bradley was alright for the most part. Now, anyway. At the scene of the accident, when they had pulled you from the vehicle and announced that you needed CPR because you had gone into cardiac arrest, Bradley couldn’t think straight. You were, ultimately, the only thing he had left. He wouldn’t be able to bear it if you died. 

The deep cuts on various parts of his body stung, but he refused to get in the ambulance until he knew your heart was working once more. When they finally called out that you were okay, he was shoved in the back of an ambulance. Their reassurance that you were alive did little for his anxiety.

Now, he was sitting in the hospital, in his pajamas; next to your bed. Since Bradley was a patient here, only staying overnight, visiting hours did not apply to him. You had woken up an hour ago, and now the two of you sat in silence, appreciating the fact that neither of you were dead. Worse than Bradley, but only a broken arm, you fared extremely well considering the circumstances; and not counting your almost death. Your parents would visit tomorrow morning, as they had already been by and Bradley promised to keep them updated. 

You had attempted to apologize to Bradley several times, but he assured you that it was not your fault. He held your hand, rubbing circles into the skin to keep the anxiety at bay as best he could.

“Bradley?” you finally whispered, and he hummed in response, “do you believe in heaven?”

“Yeah,” he confirmed, “I do. I believe that my parents are there… Why do you ask?”

“If I tell you, I need you to know that I’m being honest– and serious,” you stared at him, and Bradley had never seen you so firm and sincere in his whole life, so all he could do was agree. 

“I saw your dad, Bradley,” as soon as the words left your lips you started to cry, because saying them out loud meant it was real. You had died, and that was very scary, but Carole and Goose were there and also they were okay. “He told me I was going to be okay, and that medics were trying to bring me back,” your voice was now a few notes higher, and you shook with sobs, which pained you, and Bradley couldn’t help but join you in your emotion. His dad was okay, and he had made sure you were alright. 

That was not something that Bradley or yourself would ever share with anyone else for many years, and the only other person who would come to know was Maverick: during one visit to his house for the holidays.

*****

It was your first Christmas after graduation, and you and Bradley had lucked out with leave for the week from flight school. You two were thrilled to be in the same class again. The both of you made your way up from Pensacola, and the next day it was snowing lightly, and you pulled up to a familiar house. 

You had lied to Bradley and told him you were going Christmas shopping, but in reality you just wanted to see Mav. It had been a long while since you and him had gotten to chat, and you wanted to check in and catch up. With his little christmas gift in hand, you knocked on the door, ignoring the fact that it had been over a year since you last saw or called him. 

When the door opened, you smiled and gave him a little wave. Despite the long absence from his life, he smiled and pulled you into a hug. You looked so much older from the last time he saw you, and it made him both sad and proud. You held out the medium sized box to him, and he accepted it with teary eyes. It was the first Christmas gift he had received in years, with you and Bradley gone from his life. 

He poured you a cup of coffee while you chatted away, updating him on everything going on in your life. You shared how Bradley was doing, and that you both were pretty good in flight school. It wasn’t your fight, so you weren’t going to tiptoe around the fact that Maverick hadn’t succeeded in keeping him out of the sky. Besides, he knew anyway.

When he asked about the scars on your face, you recounted the tale of how another driver had apparently had a seizure while driving and pushed your truck around and you and Bradley had flipped. You forgot that you hadn’t mentioned that to him, electing not to scare him; but now that you were alright you felt safe to share.

“Don’t worry, Bradley’s not as bad as I was, I actually died for a second, so y’know,” you shrugged it off as if it wasn’t a big deal. Mav just stared at you, mouth gaping; and you decided to tell him.

“Can I tell you something, Mav?” you asked, the sudden emotion in your voice made Maverick shut his jaw and put his mug down and focus on whatever words you had to say. 

“Anything,” he reassured, still rattled from your confession and you bit your lip. If that was bad, what you were about to share was worse.

“I saw him, when I died,” you whispered, remembering the kind face of Bradley’s father. Mav knew who you were referring to, and he couldn’t help the tears that filled his eyes again, “he was so kind to me, Mav. But he’s okay,” you concluded, swallowing the lump in your throat. Ever since that day, you had wished that Goose was still here; Bradley deserved him to be around.

He nodded, the tears falling. He wiped them off and turned to grab something from the counter, which was really just an excuse to collect himself.

“I better get going, my family is going to see the lights later,” you sighed, standing from the little stool you had perched on for a while. 

“It makes sense, y’know,” Mav said, and you cocked your head to question what he meant, “Goose would definitely be looking out for you, given how much Bradley loves you.” You shrugged, and shook your head a little a breathy laugh huffing past your lips; feeling awkward at the mention of love. “He loves you, kid, I mean, really loves you,” Mav continued, making it a point. You nodded at the older man, thanking him for the coffee, and leaving his house. 

You didn’t want him to open his gift while you were there, knowing it would make him cry even more; and it did. It was an old picture that you and Bradley had drawn of him and Goose in art class, you had found it while cleaning out your room before you shipped out to Florida. An hour later your cell phone vibrated, and you flipped it open to reveal a short thank you text from Mav.

*****

Back in Pensacola, you and Bradley were pinned with your wings, graduating flight school. Receiving the call signs Rooster and Knuckles, you were so proud of each other. You had finally made it, and your childhood dreams were achieved. 

After celebrating with family, you were out with your class, piling into a local bar for some drinks. You, never changing, drank only a little; a light buzz filling your body. Rooster on the other hand, was shitfaced. When you went to collect him, to bring him home, he shrugged you off. 

“Bradley,” you tried to coax him into leaving as he pounded one more shot. 

“What? I’m having a good time,” he slurred, and you shouted over the music for him to hear.

“Hey we have to go, you’re drunk,” you stated. Bradley was an emotional drunk, and you often liked to get him out of public places before he had a meltdown. Tonight he was being difficult. 

“Can you just let me have fun please?” he ripped himself away from you, and hurt filled your eyes. He was usually emotional, but not like this, and never towards you. That's when you saw Hughes sitting next to Bradley, her eyes pointedly and guiltily ignoring the interaction. Her callsign was Vixen for a reason, all the women knew that she liked to stir shit up, using her looks to get the men’s attention; you had never been a target, until now. That’s when it clicked that she had been taking advantage of Bradley’s vulnerable state.

“Bradley,” you stated firmly, wanting to get him away from her.

“No!” he shouted, and now some people were looking, and you stood there awkwardly. “Y’know?! What is it you want from me? You constantly act like you want me, then you turn around and act like I don’t exist!” He turned to look at Vixen, and you knew those words were the outcome of whatever conversation that had taken place, and not his true sober thoughts. It still stung, and you flinched at his words, because they were a little true. 

You never understood how to navigate your feelings for Bradley, and as a result the two of you had been in limbo for the past few years. Not quite an item, never kissed, but an understanding that something was there; and honestly, you’d never even kissed anyone else. In your heart, there was always this ridiculous expectation that Bradley would be all your firsts. You just hadn’t planned on it taking years to figure out. After all, you both have been kind of busy. 

“Y’know, I’m getting tired of you not being able to make up your mind,” he slurred, stepping towards you to get in your face, and some of the guys in your class came to stand next to Bradley, to keep him from doing anything in his drunken state. Your eyes filled with tears and your lip trembled at Bradley’s outburst. “I’m tired of being left in the dust, grow up.” Bradley grimaced at you, and you saw red. 

Before you could stop yourself, you clocked your best friend right between his eyes; knocking him out cold. Several of your classmates shouted in surprise, but no one blamed you. You glared at Vixen, who was just as shocked at your action, and turned to leave the bar before the tears started flowing down your face. How could this have happened? You knew it wasn’t true, how could it be? Did you really frustrate him that much? No. Bradley didn’t actually think that.

Right?

*****

The next morning, bright and early, Bradley was violently awoken at the sound of a rooster crow being cawed through a megaphone. He reached up to cover his ears, groaning at the movement and the pain he felt when he scrunched his nose involuntarily. 

“Up and at em, Rooster! Cock a doodle doo, Motherfucker!” He cracked his eyes open to see his bunkmates and yours standing over him. He wasn’t sure where you were, but he wished it was you and not them. At least you’d be nice about harassing him while hungover and do it around noon.

“Oh my GOD, did I get hit by a truck last night?!” he moaned, the heat of liquor sitting in his stomach still. He was still in his dress whites, which were now wrinkled.

“You got shitfaced. If that’s how you are when you’re drunk, I would recommend never drinking again,” your bunkmate stated, stone cold. 

“What do you mean?” he asked, and caught sight of himself in the window, “What the FUCK?!” he shouted, noticing the fact that his nose was now bruised and probably broken. Several chuckles filled the small room, and someone muttered.

“Here I thought we called her Knuckles from all the cracking…”

Bradley looked up at the mention of your new callsign, and realized your absence was purposeful. 

“What?” he asked, hoping for clarification; hurt filling his eyes.

“Oh, she cracked you a good one, dude. Remind me to never get on her bad side,” his bunkmate stated.

“What happened last night?” Bradley pressed, he was ignoring the churn of his stomach as he waited for the answer. He was absolutely going to throw up within the next hour. 

While everyone reminded him of what happened, horror filled his face. He believed none of that. He didn’t even know where that came from. 

“Where is she?” he looked to your bunkmate, who pursed her lips in anger. 

“She left last night, man, she couldn’t stop crying,” she shrugged, “I haven’t heard from her since, sorry.”

Head pounding, and cursing himself out, Bradley quickly changed out of his whites, into civvies, and ran out the door of the dorms to the bronco. He wasn’t sure what he was going to say to you, but he had to make it right. 

He fucked up bad.

*****

Part 3

It's Not Easy Tag List: @lets-be-gay-for-the-angel @multiple-fandoms-girl @gretagerwigsmuse

#top gun rooster #bradley bradshaw #rooster top gun #rooster x reader #topgunmaverick #top gun #bradley bradshaw x reader #rooster #top gun x reader #bradley rooster bradshaw

[dyns33]

Flufftober 24 - Wonder woman 1984

Maxwell Lord x Reader

Everyone was convinced that Maxwell Lord loved Halloween.

After all, Halloween was the most American holiday, one of the most capitalist, which was very much like his job.

Some people who were pretending to be what they were not, who were going through the streets one by one, knocking on all the doors asking for goods to prevent something bad from happening.

Of course, Maxwell didn't like his job that much. He was not always proud to lie, but he did his best to satisfy his customers, his employees and his investors.

Every year he made the joke of showing up at work in exactly the same outfit as usual, stating that he was dressed up as a corrupt salesman who had a gold watch, two houses and a yacht.

He had none of that. He was barely able to pay his bills at the end of the month. But nobody knew that.

Except Y/N.

Even if he had done his best to hide his disastrous financial situation from her when they had met, wanting to impress and seduce her, the young woman was not stupid. It hadn't taken her long to notice that he always wore the same clothes, that he missed certain meals and that he panicked as soon as she asked him if she could come to his place.

           "Max, you know I don't give a damn about your salary."

           "You say that, and you're lovely, and I'm sure you really don't think it's important, but in a few months when I can't buy you flowers on every date or take you to the restaurant, or..."

           "Max." she repeated, taking his face in her hands. "I don't need flowers or restaurants. I don't like you for your money."

           "... It's true that I'm not bad. I'm even good. But I could be better !"

           "Yes, you could be less materialistic." he said, kissing him on the nose.

It was remembering that exchange that Y/N decorated Maxwell's office, expecting him to arrive with pockets full of candy. Even though she kept telling him that he shouldn't waste his money on trivial things, he insisted on giving lots of things to people he met. In return, he was sure to receive their love and admiration.

He really didn't seem to believe this was possible if he was just being himself. It couldn't be enough for people to like him, for Y/N to like him, or for Alistair to like him.

This was the other reason why Maxwell loved Halloween. It was the perfect time to spend time with his son, making him laugh, his eyes sparkling with happiness. Those of the father too, who had remained a big child on the inside, despite his need to be seen as a successful businessman by his peers.

It was a real surprise to see him arrive like every day, displaying his forced smile which barely hid his discomfort, greeting her with a quick kiss before sitting down behind his desk.

           "Oh, you put up the Halloween decorations. I forgot it was soon, it's beautiful sweetie."

           "You can't have forgotten, you love this party."

           "Ah, yes, it's true, it's a great party, I really like this party."

Y/N gave him a long look, but he didn't turn to her, avoiding her eyes and continuing to pretend to work, giggling nervously, using way too many happy expressions to sound sincere.

           "Max. What's going on ?"

           "... I don't have enough money to throw a Halloween party this year."

           "It's not a problem."

           "I... I'm not going to have Alistair this year." he added, biting his lip to keep from crying.

           "What ?! But I thought you were okay with him going to his mom's house for Thanksgiving and Christmas, and you had him for Halloween and New Years."

           "It was what was planned, but in the end his mom changed her mind. She says she's never gone candy hunting with him, so it's her turn, and I'll have Christmas. This isn't so bad, it's good, Christmas, I'm going to save up to buy him all the presents he wants."

           "He just wants to spend time with you."

           "Of course. In two months. He will have grown a lot, it may not be a good idea to buy him a bike, it will be too small for him when he comes."

           "Max."

           "Video games, maybe ? Kids like it, I think. Comics. A horse ! Some..."

           "Max."

           "... I miss him." he muttered, starting to sob. "I would like to see him more often. And... Halloween was our thing."

Y/N immediately hugged him, knowing that wouldn't be enough to comfort him. Maxwell may not have been the perfect father, but he loved his son more than anything. He knew he couldn't see him all the time, he also had to be with his mother a bit, and he couldn't suggest that they do things together, because they were bound to end up arguing, in front of the boy, which was not a good idea.

If he liked Halloween a little, it was only because he could see his son, and that wasn't possible this year.

           "I can remove the decorations if you want."

           "No, no. I don't want to prevent the others from having fun. We can even dress up and go out if you want. Or stay at home watching bad horror movies. We... We do this with Alistair, normally, after the candy hunt."

To not sadden him further, Y/N replied that they had time to think about it, before going to get him a coffee.

As soon as his back was turned, she gradually removed the decorations, to prevent him from getting depressed every time he saw them, while getting ready for the big night.

When it came, being very quiet, Maxwell agreed to put on a ridiculous turtle disguise, while Y/N was dressed as a silly rabbit, and to remain quietly in the chocolate dining room in front of Coraline, after the children had finished ringing their doorbell.

           "It's not a bad movie." he commented as he quickly ate the chocolates. "Alistair likes it."

           "I know." Y/N said mischievously, putting the dvd on stop after looking at the time. "I have a surprise for you."

Then there was a noise in the hall, someone running and a little lion jumping on the couch between them.

           "Daddy !"

           "Alistair ?!"

As he hugged his son, surprised to see him, Y/N quickly went to collect the kid's things and thank his mother, who had agreed to drop him off after the candy hunt. Even though she didn't love Max anymore, she admitted that he wasn't a bad parent, so they could both have a Halloween party with him. She had had the first part, he could watch a movie with him, and reassure him all night if he was scared.

           "Oh, honey, thank you, thank you, thank you !" Maxwell repeated when she came back into the living room.

           "You are the best, Y/N !"

This made her laugh, as they both hugged her before watching the movie. Alistair asserted that he would never go into the world of buttons, with the other parents, because his dad and his second mum were already great. His mum wasn't bad either.

Max tried not to cry with joy.

However, he still didn't understand the message and decided that his son should really have as many toys as possible for Christmas, despite all the patience and gentleness of Y/N to make him understand that it was absolutely not necessary.

#wonder woman 1984 #maxwell lord #maxwell lord x reader #maxwell lord fanfiction #maxwell lord imagine #flufftober 2022

[lightweaving]

#3 Jiraiya/Tsunade

"Lingering hugs..."

I wanted so badly to include smut in this bc Jiraiya deserves it damn it but it insisted on being an angst piece so apologies anon!

Embrace

Length: 700 words

Prompt: Those lingering hugs before you part ways that make you just… Wonder. 

Summary: Every time they hugged, it was a moment to remember.

The first time Tsunade allowed him to hug her, Jiraiya thought the world was on the verge of ending. Before, she had always punched him away or wiggled so that his hands might reach for her, but would never actually land on her. It was part of the curse of being known a lecher, but it was a small price to pay. Better that than her knowing just how hopelessly in love with her he was. 

Her head buried into his shoulder. “I’m sorry,” she whispered. “I’m sorry I have to go. I just… I can’t. Not anymore. Not after Nawaki… and Dan…” her voice trailed off. Jiraiya understood, of course. Yahiko, Konan, and Nagato had each stolen pieces of his heart as he had trained them, and the knowledge of their deaths had left him unable to even contemplate teaching anyone ever again, prophecy of the one who would save the world be damned. 

When those who held her entire heart had passed on, leaving her behind, it was only natural that Tsunade would seek out a place where memories of them did not linger around every corner. 

He patted her back. “Go in peace, and be safe,” he said. A wry smile made its way to his face. “And make sure you don’t stake the right to touch your breasts when you run out of gambling money, understand? Those are Konoha’s treasures.” 

She flung him away from her with a single push. “You damn pervert! Just when I thought you were growing up a bit!” 

His smile felt a little less strained after that. If she could yell at him, then maybe she wasn’t entirely broken. 

The second time Tsunade allowed him to hug her, it was immediately after her inauguration as Hokage. 

“Thanks for taking on the burden,” he said. “They wanted to make me the Hokage, can you believe it? I’m so glad that you were willing to take on that buttload of work instead.” 

She scowled. “And here I was thinking you actually thought I’d make a good Hokage,” she grumbled. But she didn’t let go of him, and for the first time, Jiraiya allowed himself to wonder if there was an after. He did not need to be her one true love – he knew that was Dan’s place. But being second choice was still better than being no choice at all. 

The third time they hugged, Tsunade initiated it. His heart leaped for joy as she buried her head into the crook of his neck, her hands caressing his chest. 

“I’ve missed you so much,” she mumbled. “Not th’same without you. Dunno how to be sober.” 

Of course. It wasn’t truly him that she was seeing, was it? She thought he was Dan. 

Every inch of his skin felt hypersensitive, and every instinct he possessed begged him to reach out. Just a little caress. She wouldn’t even know. 

But he would. And he would never allow the act to become reality. If his love went unreciprocated his entire life, so be it. Let it burn a pure, untarnished, flame. 

When Jiraiya bid Tsunade farewell, he contemplated trying to hug her again. 

But she was betting on him losing, wasn’t she? And she always lost her bets. He would be fine. 

He would come back, and he would take more than just a hug. He would take her on dates, he would scheme for the sake of the village with her, and he would follow her anywhere. He would follow her to the cenotaph, and hold her as she remembered Dan. 

“I’ll be back,” he said with a grin, even as a sense of foreboding urged him to just give her a damn hug. It was probably the same sense that had urged him to touch her when she was intoxicated. He hadn’t given in to it previously, and he would not now. 

As Jiraiya felt the life seep out of him, a warmth surrounded him, even as his extremities grew cold. He could see her then, eyes bright as they were in childhood, embracing him not as a teammate, not as a friend, but as a lover. 

“Tsunade,” he mumbled. “Love you.” 

#jiratsuna #jiraiya #tsunade #naruto fanfic #jiraiya x tsunade #naruto rarepairs #angst #lightweaver writes #writing games #flash fiction #asks

[superhero--imagines]

A/N: Sorry, but this has been living in my brain rent free too, my commission info is here

* Honey if you’re tall with a big butt-

* You’ve got his heart the second he lays eyes on you

* Like everything he is and everything he will be -

* Baby you can have it all if you’ll agree to be his

* If you’re not tall with a big butt, well don’t worry Yuuji’s still going to adore you it just takes a little time

* It’s not so much because he doesn’t think your smoking hot or anything-

* It’s just, well, Yuji’s kinda dumb

* So anyone outside of his immediate go-to type, it just doesn’t register in his brain

* You can bet your ass he’ll say dumb crap like-

* “Friends can hold hands right?”

* Or

* “Friends kiss sometimes, no big deal!”

* But don’t worry babe, it might take a little while, but eventually he’ll notice all these feelings he’s been categorizing as “friendly” feelings and “positive” feelings are actually Romantic feelings

* Once he finally figures it out, you won’t have to wait long-

* “Oi, (Y/N/N), want to be my lover?”

* Like seriously, not even a second after he has this ‘monumental’ realization

* After that things are pretty easy between you two

* It’s not like much has changed, he’s still your friend, and he doesn’t act any different-

* You guys were holding hands and, apparently, kissing before you were officially dating

* It’s not even that he’s greedy with the way he touches you or anything-

* I think the only thing that does change is that Yuji makes an effort to spend more time with you

* “Oi, wanna go to Shibuya this weekend? There’s a Taiyaki store I’m dying to go too”

* He makes an effort to spend time with you even when he’s not around, like sending you texts and voicemails when he’s away

* Part of the reason he’s so insistent on spending as much time with you as possible is probably because he’s not sure how much time he has left

* I think, Yuji is a really simple guy who sees the good in everyone, so he’s also kind of attracted to anyone given the right circumstances

* But I think, he especially wants someone compassionate

* Someone who will hold him during depressive episodes where he’ll wonder- what if I hadn’t joined the occult club? What if he had played track like everyone wanted? What if he had just minded his own business

* What if Megumi hadn’t followed him to the hospital that day, how different would his life be right now

* And it’s the same regret and remorse that fuels his cursed energy, but for some reason it feels like it’s magnified right now

* It feels like he might drown in this despair

* During those days you just hold him, whispering good things about the world.

* Soft things that’ll help him right now-

* Something to give him hope

* “Hot tea on a cold day” you whisper

* “The feeling of basking in sunlight after a cloudy day”

* There’s a moment of silence as you think of something else to say

* “The smell of rain, and fresh cut grass” he’ll mumble back, and you grin

* “Getting Taiyaki in Shibuya with someone you love” you reply with a grin

* “With ice cream filling and boba?”

* You laugh, what a weird combination

* “Anything you want”

* Yuji’s not the one that’s hard to get along with tbh, the one you have trouble with is Sukuna

* “You know you’ll never save him, I don’t know why you’re trying so hard”

* You would hit Sukuna if it didn’t mean slapping Yuji’s cheek too

* “Shut up what do you know”

* Honestly Yuuji’s a little surprised at the hatred Sukuna shows you

* “Shouldn’t you be happy they’re around?”

* For one because you’re around there’s been more *clears throat* romantic incidents, which of course always leave Yuji in a pretty vulnerable state

* He’s only an orgasm away from having Sukuna take over tbh

* And besides-

* You’re his weakness

* They say the sun is 92 million miles away, but he swears his sun is walking in front of him on the in Shibuya, his hand held firmly in yours

* If anything ever happened to you-

* He wouldn’t be able to live with himself, he wouldn’t be able to go on anymore.

* And that’s when the curse that lives inside him wins

* So he really doesn’t get why Sukuna’s acting like this is the worst thing to ever happen to him

* Sukuna opens an eye on Yuji’s cheek

* “I hate their kind most of all, even more than Jujutsu Sorcerers” he grumbles

* He really does hate you-

* He hates that you’re kind

* He saw your type all the time at his harem, some lowly thing relatives had sold off for money and honor-

* Or a prize from a nation he conquered

* Some dumb creature that thought you would get a reward for sacrificing yourself

* Truly idiotic

* The worst part is he’s starting to like those little fantasy’s you spin for Yuji

* He can feel the sunlight warning his skin after a cold day

* He can taste the heavy condensation of the steam that wafts off of his cup of tea, brushing against his face. The heat in direct contrast to the cold winter air

* And it hurts him to know he probably won’t feel like that again, not for a long time

* Not with you helping Yuji work through his negative feelings like you do

* So he hates you

* He hides his contempt in general, it only leaks out through an occasional insult

* “Where’s your kindness now?” He’ll jeer when you’re having a bad day

* Only for Yuuji to smack his cheek to get him to shut up

* “Ah, don’t pay any attention to him. He’s just grumpy”

* For the most part it’s nothing you can’t handle

* Really you kind of forget he’s there most of the time, until one day you see Sukuna pop out and take a bite of your Taiyaki as you hold it out to Yuji who said he wanted to taste the flavor

* “Oi that was mine!” Yuji screeches, slapping his own face while Sukuna smiles from his hand

* “You just like torturing me don’t you?” He weeps, and you offer him sympathetic pats on the back, giving him another bit of your Taiyaki

* He continues on about how Sukuna just loves to torment him, and honestly why can’t they get along when they share a body

* But your mind is elsewhere

* The next time Sikuna see’s you is when Yuji’s sleeping, the damn brat snores so loud he’s considering throttling him just to get some peace and quiet

* That’s when he hears the door creak, seeing you curling inside around it, a plastic bag in hand

* Great, the perfect end to the perfect day

* “The brats sleeping” Sukuna grumbles from Yuji’s hand-

* He would have spoken from his face but the only thing more annoying than having to deal with Yuji’s snores is having to hear the lovey-dovey crap tumble from his lips when he talks to you

* He figures you’ll leave, or maybe curl up against Yuji on the bed but instead you kneel down, your hand dipping into the plastic bag

* “I’m not here for him,” you start pulling out a Taiyaki.

* “You wanted one right?” That’s why he took a bite, because he wanted to try it too

* Though, annoying Yuji was probably an added bonus

* You hold up the Taiyaki to Sukuna’s ‘mouth’

* And he’s overcome with emotion

* It’s not like he hasn’t had concubines from his harem feed him a great number of things before -

* Like he hasn’t ever felt the tender act from one of his many lovers -

* So he hates that you’re the one that’s bringing out all these emotions in him

* And as he takes a bite from the Taiyaki he finally admits it-

* If you were in his harem, a moronic kind fool like you were one of his lovers

* You would be his favorite

* And that’s why he hates you so much

* Because just like Yuji, you’re his weakness

* “It’s not the same flavor” he mumbles

* “Sorry I couldn’t get the ice cream, it would have melted on the way here-“

* Sukuna wouldn’t have minded one bit licking the cream from your fingers, maybe he would even catch that embarrassed face you always make with the damn brat

* “So I got you a custard one, and a chocolate one, and on the off chance you weren’t in the mood for something sweet I got you a curry filled one too”

* You stumble, hand flying into the bag to pull out the other two, holding them up to him

* And despite himself, Sukuna finds the sight quite...cute

* “Well, I suppose these offerings will do for now wench” And his words are harsh, but you smile like the kindhearted fool you are.

* And that’s how Yuji starts getting pestered for “just five minutes alone with their baby”

* “Scared I’ll show them a better time than you can?” Sukuna grins

* Of course he is! Sukuna had a literal harem of lovers. Who knows what kinds of techniques he knows

* But Yuji’s pride won’t let him admit it

* Yuji scoffs

* “I’d rather die again then let you come anywhere near them”

* It’s kind like you’ve got two boyfriends

* One pink haired one that’s the literal personification of sunshine

* And another, more dark and sadistic one

* And it’s sort of a funky little relationship

* But it’s yours

* “I wouldn’t trade you for anything in the world” you whisper.

* Your lips brushing against his

* Yuji wouldn’t trade you for anything either

* He loves you ❤️

#jujutsu kaisen reader insert #jujutsu kaisen imagine #jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu sorcerer #yuji itadori #yuji itadori imagine #yuji itadori x reader #itadori imagine #itadori headcanons #itadori yuji headcanons #yuji itadori headcanon #sakuna x reader #jujutsu kaisen sakuna #jujutsu kaisen headcanons #jujutsu kaisen headcanon #superhero—imagines #sukuna imagine #Sukuna x reader #sukuna ryomen #sukuna ryoumen x reader #Sukuna ryoymen imagines

[sunsents]

Content 2/2 - F.W (M)

Empty Chapter II

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

CROSS POSTED TO WATTPAD HERE

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

Pairing: fredweasley x fem!reader

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

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

Rating: 18+

DON’T REPOST MY WORK

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

Five Years Later, 2003

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

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

Aleyna quirks a brow, "Whose Stacey?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Fleur! What are you doing here?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Auntie ____!"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Ginny pauses, “Erm, yeah…”

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

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

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

“____?”

And then, you’re suffocating.

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

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

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

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

He’s still wearing the bracelet you gave him.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

His eyes grow wide. “Sorry Ma’am.”

Someone clears their throat.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Well, stand straight soldier!” you demand.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Damn, I’ll drink to that.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“So, any plans for Christmas Eve ____?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Sighing, you set your hand on your lap.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Aleyna, don’t.” you nudge her arm.

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

“Wha-“

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

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

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

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

“How’s Blaise doing by the way?”

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

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

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

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

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

Or maybe he did, only you didn’t see.

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

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

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

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

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

————————

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

Jambo’s no different.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Absolute blasphemy.

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

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

Of course your logic sucks.

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

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

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

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

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

Woah, you’ve had your coffee today.

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

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

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

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

“Morning, I know it’s early and-”

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

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

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

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

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

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

Woah, down girl.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Alright.” he says softly.

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

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

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

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

“Eva!”

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

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

Fred winces. “Actually-”

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

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

You freeze. “What?”

They broke up? “Why, oh Fred-”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Nonetheless, you smile. “Just that what?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

That turns the after taste into pure panic.

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

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

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

——————

You look good.

Or, at least you think you do.

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

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

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

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

“Sounds like a you problem.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Aleyna gives you both questioning looks.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“____!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Why!” says Ginny, banging another fist.

“I think you know why,” says Harry.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What I meant to say was, I wan-“

“Oh my god, ____, Fred!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

She doesn’t wish you a merry christmas.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Well what changed your mind?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I’m not upset, I’m tired.” you sigh.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Eva stutters, “What?”

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

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

“No, he won’t.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I didn’t mean to cheat you know!”

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

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

“Yeah, you!” you cry.

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

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

——————

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

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

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

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

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

“Why didn’t you tell me she cheated?”

Fred’s expression softens. “What?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Fred freezes - second time that night.

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

Fuck fuck fuck.

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

But it was too late.

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

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

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

You almost swallow your tongue.

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

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

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

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

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

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

“That’s Freddie for you, love.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I know.”

“Then why didn’t you come back?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Fuck.

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

“Finally!” George yells.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“____.”

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

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

You smile back, “Oh it’s alright.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Took you long enough.”

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

“I won’t.”

Your lie slips so easily.

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

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

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

“____.”

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

“____, darling.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Yes it does, and stupid!”

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

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

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

“That doesn’t explain the rest-“

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

“I can’t do this tonight Fred-“

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

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

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

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

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

“Goodnight Fred, merry christmas.”

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

————

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Knock Knock

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Thank you.”

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

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

“Fred I-“

“I wanted to-“

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

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

“Fred,-“

“No, let me finish this time.”

You stay silent.

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

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

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

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

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

You scoff. “Look how that turned out.”

Fred raises a brow.

“Sorry, continue.”

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

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

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

“I did.” you smile.

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

“Near what?” You gasp.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I was thinking of you.”

“Oh?”

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

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

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

“Oh.”

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

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

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

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

“Do what?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Fred, don-“

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Then - ahh Freddie!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Really?”

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

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

“Wha- which one?”

“The white one.”

Your eyes widen. “Oh.”

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

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

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

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

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

Of course he isn’t wearing anything underneath.

Of course he has abs.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I love you too - oh!”

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

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

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

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

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

“Fred! Oh god - ah!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Well shit.”

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

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

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

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

Fred’s eyes flash dangerously. “Oh?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He hums in response.

“You’re staying over, right?”

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

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

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

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

[engie-ivy]

Orion Black offers Remus more money than he could've dreamed of. The only condition? Stay away from his son.

(This got way fluffier than I anticipated towards the end)

A slow smile spreads across Orion Black’s face as he writes something down on a piece of paper, and slides it over the broad, wooden desk towards Remus. “Read the number on that paper,” he says confidently. “And tell me again how much you love him.”

To Put a Price On Love

“How much?”

Remus hardly dares to move under the intensity of Orion Black’s scrutinizing gaze. The man is sitting behind his polished wooden writing desk, one large hand holding a pen hovering above some sort of notebook.

Remus is visiting the Black Manor for a couple of days, finally meeting his boyfriend’s family. Much to Remus’ dismay, his boyfriend had been reluctant to take him home, but after some insisting on Remus’ part, he finally agreed. After the first day of staying at the posh manor, Remus had changed his goal of making his boyfriend’s parents like him, to making his boyfriend’s parents not kill him in his sleep.

Orion and Walburga Black are stiff, formal and standoffish people. Their noses are constantly scrunched up in distaste, and their lips pressed in a thin line. They hardly say a word to Remus, and Remus hasn’t once seen them smile. He honestly can’t even imagine it. Where his boyfriend’s silver grey eyes are bright and sparkling with vibrant energy, Walburga Black’s eyes are cold and empty, while Orion Black’s gaze is hard as steel.

That gaze is now intently fixed on Remus, and Remus feels like he’s being weighed and found wanting.

To say he was wary when Orion Black suddenly placed a large hand on his shoulder and asked him, no, commanded him, to come to his study, would be an understatement.

“Ex- excuse me?” Remus stammers.

“What amount do I need to write down to get you to stay away from my son?” Orion Black says slowly.

Remus glances down at the notebook, that he sees is, indeed, a check book, and back up at Orion Black’s face. “I... I think there’s some kind of misunderstanding.”

“I’ve been here before, Lupin, was it?” Orion Black says, with a hint of impatience in his voice. “Everyone has a price, so why don’t you save us both the time, and tell me yours?”

“That’s not... I’m not...” Remus sputters. “I love your son!”

Orion Black smiles wryly at him. “So did many of the others. But as the number got higher, they realised they didn’t love him quite so much after all.”

Remus feels a wave of anger course through his body. He hasn’t even told Sirius he loves him yet. How dare this man just brush off his feelings like that!

“Look,” Remus says. “If you don’t approve of me for your son, then I suppose there’s little I can do about that, but you cannot make a situation go your way just by throwing some money at it!”

“That’s where you’re wrong, boy,” Orion Black says sharply. “Let me give you a free lesson here. There’s nothing money can’t buy, as long as you have enough of it. As the amount I’m offering increases, this so-called ‘love’ will decrease. You don’t have to like it, but that’s just how the world works.”

“Why is it worth so much to you?” Remus asks. “Have I somehow offended you?”

Orion Black lets out a humourless laugh, that doesn’t make his eyes look any less like ice cold steel. “Believe me, boy. If you had offended me, I would’ve used a different way than paying you to get rid of you.”

It’s a threat, and a barely veiled one. Remus feels a chill creep up his spine.

“No,” Orion Black continues undisturbed. “It has nothing to do with you personally.” He sighs. “If Sirius wants to be rebellious and... have relations with the occasional boy, then so be it, but I’ll make sure his provocative behaviour won’t go too far by timely dissolving these delusional attachments. Whatever Sirius has to get out of his system, in the end he shall marry Druella Rosier, as has been promised.”

“That’s ridiculous!” Remus exclaims. “You’d bully your son into a marriage that’ll make him miserable?” Remus shakes his head. “I want no part in this.”

A slow smile spreads across Orion Black’s face as he writes something down on a piece of paper, and slides it over the broad, wooden desk towards Remus. “Read the number on that paper,” he says confidently. “And tell me again how much you love him.”

Remus glances down at the paper, and gasps.

“So, how much did he offer you?”

Sirius is standing in the doorway of the guestroom, leaning against the doorframe, arms folded over his chest. He’s watching Remus pack his bags with an expressionless face.

Remus doesn’t look up from his attempt to stuff his jumpers in the bag. “Hundred thousand.”

Sirius whistles through his teeth. “That’s a new record! What did you do? Did you tell him you love me? That always seems to drive up the price a bit.”

“I did,” Remus replies flatly, still not looking up from his packing.

“Fabian did too, but still, he only managed to get to sixty thousand,” Sirius says. “Gilderoy tried to play the ‘but I love him!’-card, but he was so insincere, even my father wasn’t fooled.” He lets out a bitter laugh. “I guess you don’t have much of a negotiating position when your eyes light up with greed the moment you see a check book. Caradoc never claimed to love me. I think I preferred that most,” he adds pensively. “He never pretended we were something we weren’t. Just took the money and left. But then again, I don’t think he even got to twenty thousand,” he finishes with a shrug.

Remus just looks at him for a while, before turning back to his packing.

Sirius follows his movements. “Hey, that’s mine!” He exclaims when Remus picks up a leather jacket and puts it in one of the bags. When Remus doesn’t respond and proceeds to fold up Sirius’ old band t-shirts, Sirius grabs his arm, forcing Remus to look at him. “What are you doing?!”

“I’m leaving!” Remus shouts angrily. “And I’m taking you with me! I won’t allow you to stay with these people who won’t let you be who you are, and who think they can force you into a marriage you don’t want by bribing the people you care about to abandon you!” He takes a deep breath. “Besides,” he adds dryly. “I doubt your father will let me stay in his house after telling him to shove his check book up his arse.”

“But why would you...” Sirius shakes his head. “What’s going on, Remus? Please, I need you to explain.”

Remus’ expression softens upon seeing Sirius’ wide eyes, filled with a mixture of hope and disbelief. “I didn’t take his money, Sirius,” Remus says softly. “I meant it when I told him I love you, and no amount of money will be worth losing you over.”

Sirius’ eyes frantically search Remus’ face, and he seems to find some sort of confirmation there, because the next moment, he flings himself at Remus. He clutches to him and presses his face in his hair. “I wanted to believe... I wanted to trust... I wanted to think that you’d never.. But I’ve been disappointed so many times before. I started to think I just wasn’t...”

“You’re worth it, Sirius,” Remus whispers. “You’re worth a thousand times more than any amount of money. They’re all idiots. Everyone who chose money over you. And you know what? I’m glad for it, because now I get to have you.”

“You have me, Remus. You do.” Sirius pulls away slightly, so he can look Remus in the eyes, while tears are shining on his cheeks.

Remus brushes the tears away with his thumb and smiles. “So, are you ready to leave your luxurious manor with servants on your beck and call, to come live with me in a cramped flat with no idea how we’re going to pay rent next month?”

Sirius smiles back. “I’ve never been more ready for anything.”

#wolfstar #wolfstar fanfiction #wolfstar fic #marauders #marauders fanfiction #marauders fic #sirius black #remus lupin #remus x sirius #orion black #the most ancient and noble house of black

[tommyspeakycap]

HF for how Tommy feels on his daughters wedding day please

first half is headcanons and the second half is a lil blurb!

tommy is quite literally distraught

like that’s no exaggeration he is literally heart broken

his baby, his whole world was getting married

for the past 20 years, you had been tommy shelby’s whole world

you were born when tommy was only 17

not even an adult yet himself

so it felt as though you had been with him most of his life

it had kind of just been you and him, in a sense

of course there was the rest of the clan too, and you were incredibly close to them as well

but your mother died in childbirth, so tommy was both mum and dad

he had to do it all alone in that sense

everyone tells him he should be so proud of how he raised you

because you’re sweet and kind

and you have that humour that the war took from tommy

you made people laugh like he had

and you were really the only person that could make him laugh

you were strong, like your mother tommy had always said

but you credit everything you are to him

he was the first man to love you, and teach you how you should be loved

he also taught you how you should be treated, generally a lot better than the average father would

tommy made sure that his daughter would be treated like a queen

you were his princess

so whomever you were to marry, you would be treated as their queen

he made absolutely sure of that

and that marrying was your choice

not something you were coerced into for money or business, but something you wanted

and it was

with a man who you had loved since 16

tommy liked him as much as he could like the man that was going to be taking his baby girls hand and changing her name

the thought of you not being (y/n) shelby, tommy shelby’s little princess, was earth shattering to him

although you had insisted you were keeping it in the middle

alas, tommy knew you were so loved by that man

be that as it may, all parties knew if he stepped a foot out of line or raised a finger in anything but gentility and love

then he would be struck down in a timely and violent fashion by tommy himself

tommy definitely cries that day too

“Tommy?” Grace’s voice immediately draws his attention towards her and away from his thoughts about the impending fact his little girl was getting married in half an hour. His eyes are that kind of wet that shows he’s fighting tears, that he won’t dare let them fall. Grace can see the lump he tries to swallow in his throat and a piece of her heart breaks for him as she sits down on the bench next to him outside the hall where the ceremony would take place. You were inside getting the dress on and getting your hair done with Polly and Ada and previously Grace before she had come out to see if her husband was okay.

He was not.

“Oh Tommy,” Her voice is so soft and caring as she wraps her arm around him and rubs his shoulder, hugging him to her slightly. “She looks so beautiful Tom, and god she’s so happy; can’t stop smiling at all. She still has that smile you talk about, the innocent one and it looks just like yours does sometimes.” Tommy clenches his jaw tightly, still refusing to let those tears go. She sees him clamp down his teeth over his bottom lip to stop it trembling. “It’s alright Tommy, this is good. She’s in love with a man who loves her so much. Almost as much as you do.”

Tommy shakes his head at that, one hand on his knee to brace himself as he tries to speak. “Not possible.” He snips, “And i loved her first.”

His voice breaks on that. The lip finally trembles and he hangs his head with a sharp inhale to let free that shoulder shaking sob. “She was my little baby. How is that my little girl in there? She used to-” Tommy had to pause again, roughly wiping his hand over his face to clear away the tears as he looks up at Grace, “She used to be this big,” he gestures with his hands in a way that she imagined was meant to be him cradling a baby. His voice sounds drastically different than she’s used to because it’s clouded by his tears and his agony.

“She used to ask me to brush her teeth and comb her hair and lift her up to wash her hands,” he bleats, images flashing through his mind of that short little girl who couldn’t reach the bathroom sink. He sees the little girl who stood on top of the toilet so he could brush those teeth and he can see the smile that little girl gave him all those nights when he asked to see to make sure he had brushed them right. “She used to climb into my bed every morning and she used to save up her tooth fairy money to buy us all gifts. She’d save food from her dinner for the dogs on the street and i swear on my life i don’t know how to live without her being my baby girl, Grace.” Tears continue to stream down his cheeks as Grace notices the black and white photograph that looked truly as though it had been through the war; as it had. it was stained and slightly run and it was crumpled. A little girl with a toothless grin and Tommy Shelby’s eyes, even with the lack of colour to the old photograph.

“It’s alright Tommy,” Grace hums, rubbing her husbands back soothingly, “She’s your little girl, she always will be.” She knew there was really nothing else she could say that would ease his pain. There was nothing anyone could do or say that would send you back to the little girl he would could throw over his shoulder and run around the house with. There was nothing that could ease the pain of a fathers aching heart when his baby girl becomes a woman who doesn’t need him like she used to.

“Thomas?”

He and Grace look up at Polly. The look in her eyes speaks for her . “She’s ready?” Tommy asks, prompting his aunt to nod her head with a smile. “Come on then, Tom!” Arthur calls from the grand doorway at the top of the steps to the hall. When Tommy and Grace reach him, Arthur wraps his arm roughly around his brothers shoulder and pulls Tommy into him. “Baby (y/n) getting fuckin’ married eh? Can’t fuckin’ believes she’s this fuckin grown up.” He shakes his head, taking his arm away from his brother when they reach the door of the dressing room where you were waiting. “Beautiful she is, Tom.” Arthur says, “Looks just like mum. In you go.” He ushers his younger brother in that door.

Nobody sees Tommy Shelby quite like you do, and he’s happy for it to stay that way. He’s known it since you were a tiny little girl wrapped up in his arms. He doesn't love anyone like he loves you, so it makes full sense that you are the only person in the world who he allows his vulnerability to fully leak through with. Although, he probably couldn't prevent it even if he tried.

Maybe that’s why he doesn't fight so hard to keep his eyes from welling up when he sees you standing there looking in the mirror, donned in the most beautiful white wedding gown that he’s ever seen. Placed in his hand is the stunning light veil that he had picked out for you. The headband was something like a tiara, because you were his princess and he truly believed that everything you had should be the best the world could offer. The dress too had been extortionate and you would never have gotten it had you known the price it had come to, but Tommy had never allowed you to know. He simply had the designers bring an array of dresses to his estate where you tried them all on with Polly, Ada, Lizzie, Grace, Linda and Esme to comment and complement each dress, as well ad aide you on picking the one that suited you the most with cost never a mention. Tommy had preached he ‘no expense spared’ approach the whole way through the planning of the wedding and any timenhe caught you trying to cut or manage costs, he simply shut you down and enforced the rule that the wedding planner was no longer allowed to discuss prices with you. 

He had truly created the most fantastical day for you, and he would have spent every single penny that he had if it meant giving you the most beautiful start to a new life that he could give. 

You had wanted him to be the one to place that veil on your head with the guidance of your hair dresser to ensure he didn't mess up the design of your hair. He had been the one to place little plastic tiaras on your head when you were merely a little girl who wanted to play princess dress up. He used to be the one to comb back your hair and twirl you around that Watery Lane kitchen with Arthur did the same with Ada and Polly laughed heartily from her seat at the table. 

It felt right to have him put a tiara on you one last time as baby Shelby. 

“You’re beautiful.” He breathes, his lips stretching into a wide and incredibly proud smile. “So, so very beautiful my darling.” Your cheeks blush ever so slightly and you lean over to kiss his cheek. “Thank you, dad.” 

He wants to hug you tightly and never let you go. He wants to will and wish you back to the little girl that he used to twirl around all afternoon. He missed that little girl so much. He had so much love in his heart for you, so much that it overwhelmed him every time he had tried to acknowledge it over the course of your life. 

“I love you.” he says, his shaky voice conveying how much he actually means those words. “So much more than you can ever know. I’m going to miss you so much.” 

You breathe a short laugh, shaking your head at him. “I’m not going anywhere, dad. I’ll still be seeing you all the time. I’ll just have a different name.” You hold his hand tightly in yours as he leads you out of the dressing room and into the hall towards the large double doors that would take you to the isle. 

“Mhm,” he hums, “I suppose. You’ll understand what I mean someday. I just love you so much.” 

“I love you too.” 

“You two ready to go?” The wedding planner asks, watching as you turn to Tommy somewhat excitedly and nod. “You ready dad?” You ask, giving his had a reassuring squeeze. He sighs heavily, but nods his head too, removing his hand from yours and moving his arm so that you can link yours through his. His play on his mind before he says them, a small smile too playing on his lips as the nickname that he used to call you runs through his memory.

“Ready as I’ll ever be, my little love.” 

#peaky blinders #tommy shelby x sister reader #tommy shelby x sister!reader #shelby sister #shelby sister reader #shelby!reader

[hxwks-gf]

— pretty boy 

summary: you’re best friends with the new up-and-coming hero, toshinori yagi. pet names are a force of habit for you, and toshinori happens to be “pretty boy”.  despite the nickname, he shows you how serious he is about becoming a hero

pairing: young all-might/toshinori yagi x reader

w/c: 1.9k

warnings: creepy dude grabs the reader against their will, but that’s about it 

requested by: @lady-latte​ (ty for sending this in love!! i need some more toshinori in my life) 

“Hey there, Pretty Boy!” 

The nickname came as smoothly as silk does, falling from your lips and out into the warm summer air like honey dripping from its comb. It was a nickname that had always felt natural, despite its embarrassing nature. If it ever bothered Toshinori Yagi, he never showed it. 

He grinned as you strolled up to him. His blonde hair was sticking out in its usual unruly manner, with the two pieces of bangs that never seemed to lay flat arched over his sweaty forehead. Magnificent blue eyes pierced through your own in the twilight of dusk, cutting straight through the dim glow from the street lamp nearby. 

“What are you doing out here this time of night?” he asked, stretching his bare arms above his head, the muscles bulging in his biceps. 

“Wanted to see what you were up to,” you replied with a matching grin, and you leaned against the fence. “Working out again?” 

“Yeah,” he said, leaning down and picking up a barbell that lay at his feet. He lifted it with ease and began rhythmically curling it into his chest. “School starts again in a few weeks, and I want to make sure I’m absolutely ready for it. Since my Quirk finally activated, I’ve got a lot of training to make up for.” 

You pursed your lips and looked down at the concrete. A dandelion weed was pushing through a crack in the sidewalk, stretching itself and its little yellow petals up towards the darkening sky. You glanced back up to Toshinori and smiled again. “I know you’ll be amazing,” you encouraged, your eyes following the barbell in his hands: up and down and up and down. “I heard you got a new mentor.” 

“I did,” he said, straining against the weight. A drop of sweat slid down his face as he set the barbell down. “She told me to keep it on the low for a bit, so--sworn to secrecy.” He made a show of locking his lips with an invisible key before tossing it out of sight. 

You laughed. “I wasn’t going to ask anyways, dummy. I’m sure you’ll tell me who this amazing new teacher is when the time is right.” After a few seconds, you bit your lip with uncertainty and studied him before asking, “Right?” 

Toshinori wiped his brow again and looked at you. “Of course I’d tell you. You’re my best friend.” 

“Don’t you forget it,” you chuckled, playfully punching his shoulder. Man, he really put on some muscle over the summer, you noticed, rubbing your knuckles as you pulled your arm back. As he stretched his arms up over his head again, you tilted your head to the side. And a good couple inches. “How...how tall are you, now?” you tentatively asked. 

Toshinori relaxed and glanced down at himself. “Dunno,” he said with a shrug. “Haven’t measured myself lately.” 

“You really grew over the summer,” you half-heartedly joked, crossing your arms. “Are you...okay?” 

His disposition shifted at the question, and for a moment you saw how tired he really was--but the moment passed, and he was back to being Mr. Walking Sunshine. Toshinori flashed you a toothy grin and gave a thumbs-up, “Yeah, why wouldn’t I be? All of my dreams are coming true!” 

“Alright, alright,” you conceded. “Just checkin’, Pretty Boy. We wouldn’t want anything happening to the world’s next #1 hero, would we?” 

“You really think I can do it?” he quietly asked, bending down to pack up his weights. His face was hidden from you, but you could hear the doubt in his voice. 

You reached out and placed a hand on his warm shoulder, feeling the muscles flexing beneath your fingertips. “I know you can do it, Toshi.” 

He stood up tall and grinned down at you. “Heh. Thanks, y/n. I know I can always count on you to believe in me.” 

“Race you to the end of the block?” 

“You know you’ll never be able to beat me.” 

“Hey, you’ve got a literal weight to hold you back,” you laughed, already jogging towards the street. “C’mon, that new movie is playing at the theater--loser has to buy the popcorn.” 

“I don’t know why you insist on doing this to yourself, y/n!” Toshinori called out from behind you as you started running. He seemed pretty far back, and you used this as motivation to run faster and harder down the city street towards the movie theater. The summer air sung with cicadas as the early stars came out to twinkle in the sky above you. But just as you were getting into a good rhythm, you heard his thundering footsteps on the sidewalk behind you. 

“I’ll take my popcorn with extra butter!” he shouted at you as he sprinted by, his blonde hair flying in the wind. 

“One day I’ll figure out how you’re cheating!” you shouted back, your lungs already gasping for precious air. 

Toshinori’s face was adorned with a triumphant smile as he flew down the length of the street, his duffle bag full of weights strapped to his back. “--and some yakitori to go with it!” he called over his shoulder at you before disappearing around the corner. 

You slowed down to a jog, and then to a walk, and you breathed heavily to regain your composure. No matter how many times you challenged him, or how many times he insisted on giving you a headstart--he always beat you. Always. 

“You’re going to be the greatest,” you murmured under your breath, deciding to walk the rest of the way to the theater. He usually came back to make sure you were okay, even after beating you. It was almost unfair. 

But before you could make it to the next block, an uneasy feeling crept over your skin, and all of the hairs on the back of your neck stood on end. Suddenly, the quiet street seemed dark and menacing--nothing like it had been only a few minutes ago. The shadowy corners of the alleys shifted and moved out of the corners of your eyes. It felt like you were being watched. 

Your feet began to move quicker down the sidewalk, and you tried to keep yourself within the glow of the street lamps as much as you could. Just a few more feet and you would turn the corner and see Toshinori standing there with that smile on his face, and you’d be safe--

“Where ya goin’ this time of night?” a gravelly voice chuckled from behind you, and you felt calloused hands roughly grip your arm. “Pretty thing like you should know better than to be walking around this part of town all alone.” 

You froze in fear, your wide, unblinking eyes staring at the end of the block--waiting for Toshi to appear. Any moment now, and he would come charging to your rescue. 

“Hey,” the villain growled, his grip on your arm tightening. “I asked you a question.” 

“Let go of me,” you managed to whisper, still staring at the street corner. “Please.” 

“Yeah? Heh, or what? What are you going to do?” 

You winced in pain as his nails dug into the skin of your arm. “Please,” you said again through gritted teeth. “Let go of me.” 

“I don’t think I will,” the villain chuckled, and began pulling you towards a dark alley. “I want all of your money, and maybe I’ll reconsider.” 

You knew if you used your Quirk in a public setting, you’d get reprimanded by the school and have to face consequences--but you were never taught what the punishment was, if there was any punishment at all, for using your Quirk in self-defense. You didn’t want to lose your shot at a hero’s license--but then again, you also didn’t want to lose your life. 

Just as you were about to activate your Quirk while he dragged you into the alley, you saw Toshinori appear from around the corner. He looked confused, like he wasn’t sure what was taking you so long, or where you even were. But when his eyes landed on you in the grasp of a villain, that confusion was replaced by pure rage, and he charged towards you with a wild snarl on his face. 

“Let go of her!” he bellowed, and for a moment you were taken aback by the sheer anger that exploded out of him. You had never seen him this way before. 

“Hey, hey, take it easy!” the villain stuttered, immediately releasing you and taking a few stumbling steps backward. Toshinori surged past you and grabbed him by the collar, and shoved him up against the building wall. 

“You think you can just weasel your way around here and get away with grabbing people?” Toshinori snarled in the villain’s face. He looked at you over his shoulder. “Did he hurt you? Did he do anything to you?” 

You quickly shook your head. “No, no--he just grabbed my arm. I’m f-fine, Toshi.” The wavering pitch in your voice gave yourself away. 

He narrowed his eyes at you and he turned back to the villain, who was struggling against the iron grip at his throat. 

“If I ever see you bothering anyone in this city again,” Toshi spoke to him, his voice dangerously calm, “I won’t be this nice.” With that, he released the man and looked down at him with disgust. “Now get lost.” 

The man wasted no more time scrambling to his feet and taking off in the other direction. Toshinori immediately went to your side and took your face in his large hands. 

“When you didn’t show up, I got worried,” he said, searching your eyes. That anger and rage was gone; it had now been replaced with concern and fear. “You promise he didn’t hurt you?” 

You swallowed the lump in your throat and shook your head. “He just grabbed my arm and asked for money, that’s all.” 

“I’m so sorry,” he said, his voice cracking with emotion as he pulled you into his chest for a hug. “I shouldn’t have left you like that, I’m so stupid. I’m sorry.” 

“It’s okay,” you said, your voice muffled by his shirt. “I’m okay. You saved me, Pretty Boy.” 

He pulled away and looked down at you, his blue eyes filled to the brim with unshed tears. With a shaky breath, he put on a reassuring smile and tenderly touched your cheek. “I’ll always be there to save you, alright? I promise.” 

“You’re going to be a great hero,” you whispered, returning the smile. 

He pulled you in for another hug, his eyes glancing down at the bruises forming on your arm from where the man had grabbed you, a reminder that he wasn’t there for you, and he couldn’t protect you. Toshinori Yagi knew, in that moment, that you would never be harmed by anyone else ever again. 

“I like that name, by the way,” Toshi said as the two of you started walking together towards the movie theater. He kept you tucked under a protective arm as he gave you a sideways glance. “You think I’m pretty?” 

You rolled your eyes and smacked him. “You know you’re pretty.” 

He chuckled. “Yeah, but I like hearing it from you.” 

“Alright, fine, you’re pretty.” 

“That’s my girl.” 

#OKAY FINE I HAVE A SOFT SPOT FOR YOUNG ALL MIGHT #YA CAUGHT ME #I JUST LOVE HIM SO MUCH #HE'S BEEN THROUGH TOO MUCH #yagi toshinori #yagi toshinori fic #yagi toshinori imagine #toshinori yagi x reader #toshinori yagi x you #all might #all might fic #all might imagine #all might x reader #all might x you #young all might #boku no hero academia #bnha #my hero academia #boku no hero academia fic #bnha fanfiction #my hero academia fanfiction #mha

[skiitter]

Also in my roundabout way I would like to request a Lann ficlet, start with angst but make it happy? or just happy. Or just anything because you are a great writer!!

okay so uh this got away from me but here's 3.8k words of lann pining after the commander and being an idiot in love.

He is not staring. He is restringing his longbow after their latest run in with the remaining demons still lingering in the area, that's it. He is absolutely not staring at his two companions huddled together across the fire. He is not watching with rapt, singular focus at their every interaction, seeking answers in her soft words, his sardonic remarks. The Aasimar gestures rudely with his hands, and she laughs loud, the chorus of it echoing through the empty ramparts. When Daeran dips his head low to whisper in her ear, the skin of her neck flushes and Lann forces himself to look away.

He's pretty sure they're sleeping together. It's hard to know for sure, thanks to his complete lack of experience in interpersonal relationships, not to mention his one and only lover having been someone he'd known since birth. Wenduag was a blunt edge of expectation, and Lann always knew exactly what was happening between them. When it comes to the Commander and Daeran, however, he isn't totally sure.

That unknowing, that gray area of wretched hope, is killing him. Falling for her was not on the agenda, seeing as she'll live for hundreds of years and he's lucky if he's got a decade left. Not to mention that she's (probably) gonna save the world and he's just some Mongrel who's legacy won't extend beyond the small role he's played in the crusade. He's never been a glutton for punishment, what with life underground being horrid enough already, but there is a sweet sting in accepting his unrequited love for her that he can't shake. It drives him, despite it's doomed end, to do whatever he can for her fight. If he cannot give her his heart, he will give her his life.

"You're staring," Seelah whispers, her hulking form crouched next to him as she sharpens her longsword.

"Can you blame me? Looking forlornly into the campfire is just one of my many talents."

Seelah chuckles and jerks her head slightly towards the Commander and Daeran. "Oh you're looking forlornly alright, but it's not at the flames. You should talk to her."

"I do talk to her. I talk to her everyday. Are you saying you don't? Honestly Seelah, she's your commander, you--"

"Fine fine, play coy. I'm just saying Lann, we could die at any minute. Do you really not want her to know how you feel?"

Lann swallows, the ugly reminder of mortality and how the sword strung above him dangles far lower than the Commander's tightening the sinew around his heart. "Sh--she doesn't need any more burdens. The Commander's got enough going on, what with that pesky Worldwound thing." He spares one last glance before turning his body away, enduring the biting cold as the heat of the fire leaves his scaled skin. "She doesn't want to deal with a lovesick Mongrel and really, who could blame her?"

"How could you possibly know what she wants if you don't talk to her?"

"Because it's not her wants I'm concerned with, it's her needs. And she needs me to be good ol' reliable Lann. She needs me to shoot my arrows and kill the baddies. She needs--she needs something she can count on and that something is me."

The Abyss happens all at once and it's a miserable experience for them all. Their time in Drezen made him soft, he thinks, because the camp at the Nexus is horrifically uncomfortable. The ground is somehow colder and harder than any other he's slept on and no amount of fire really chases away the shadows.

They spend a significant amount of time in Alushinyrra, and a significant amount of money staying at the Bad Luck Tavern just to avoid the discomforts of the Nexus. It's on one such expensive stay that a group of frankly moronic thugs try and rob the Commander while she sleeps. Her ever-present and ruthlessly protective Velociraptor dispenses them in quick measure, ripping the throat out of the final victim before Lann even has his bow drawn.

Up until that point they'd opted for three rooms, in groups of two, but they downsize to one after the attack. The Commander's life was hardly in danger but playing with fate isn't something she likes to do, chaotic nature be damned. The tavern owner grumbles but, with a golden incentive, allows them to drag one of the other beds into the room so the sleeping arrangements aren't quite so cramped.

Ember curls up into the Commander's side, her sisterly affection having transformed them from companions to near family. Woljif takes the other bed, offering half of it to Regill. The severe gnome answers him with a severe look and Woljif extends the offer to Lann instead. He glances at Daeran but the Aasimar is already tucking himself into the space between the Commander and the wall. With not a small amount of jealousy, Lann resigns himself to his fate and joins Woljif.

A soft rustling pulls him from a restless slumber some time later and Lann wakes just in time to see the Commander whisper something to Regill, who is stationed at the door, before slipping into the hallway with Daeran in tow. He watches them until they vanish and, as he looks away, makes uncomfortable eye-contact with the gnome. Regill's face is as impassive as always, but Lann feels guilty for some reason, like a kid caught with his hand in the rat cage.

"Is this going to be a problem?" Regill asks him as they head out the next morning. Well, not morning since there is no sun or sky or joy in Alushinyrra.

"Hard to say, this city does tend to be a bit on the rough side," Lann responds.

"The Commander has assured me any physical relationships she has with the party aren't going to be a problem." It's not a question but it's not not a question and Lann looks around to make sure the others aren't paying attention.

"We uh, we aren't in a physical relationship?"

"I know."

"Riiiiiight."

"But you want to be, which is arguably worse. So I'll ask you again, is this going to be a problem?"

It occurs to Lann that he should probably do a slightly better job of keeping his apparently obvious feelings on the Commander to himself. "Uh, no. No, it's not." Regill doesn't seem satisfied but then again, when does he ever? "Is uh, I mean, are the Commander and Daeran--"

"I do not gossip," Regill snarls. "Bother the thief with nonsense like that."

Lann does not, in fact, bother the thief with nonsense like that. Instead, he pushes down the swelling of affection he feels at every interaction with the Commander and focuses on the mission. It goes well enough, all things considered, until Savamelekh shows up and nearly kills him.

The demon's revelations are a bit too much for his overtaxed heart to bear and the subsequent bender doesn't help at all. When the Commander finds him, though, he just babbles on about wanting to prove to her he can be what she wants, what she needs, and that she can trust him. "I want to be somebody you can count on. I don't have anything to offer apart from my bow and my dumb jokes....and my life. And they're all yours, if you want them." He glances away, shame and discomfort crushing him from the inside out. "But I doubt you do, not now that I've let you down."

"....I could never turn my back on someone I care about just like that." She's been talking this whole time but it's these words that register hard and fast. Lann stares at her, and she stares back, and the weight of things unsaid on her face is a blessed curse. He forces a smile, bashful but steady, and pulls away from the conversation. It's too much to think about, especially because hope is not his friend, despite its insistence on hanging around.

Later, back at camp, away from everyone but her sharp-eyed Velociraptor, the Commander comes for him. He's not avoiding her, not that he really could thanks to the nature of their new normal in the Abyss, but he's not not avoiding her either. He's sitting at the edge of the cliff, staring out over the sea of fire and the city of demons. She sits beside him, shoulder to shoulder, and they are quiet for a long time.

"Next time I get drunk and come to pour my heart out to you, I'll jot down notes first," he says lightly, glancing at her. Her face is hard to read, not the open expression she'd given him back at the tavern, but he knows her well enough to know she's bothered by something. "I'm kidding of course. I'd never do that -- I don't do notes, I improvise."

"Why do you do that?"

"Improvisation is just one of my many skills, honed from my illustrious life as a Mongrel hunter. Sometimes, you got out to hunt for some rats and end up fighting a--"

"Lann, stop." He does, if only because her tone is firm. "Why do you always demean what you say with humor?"

"I'm....funny like that?"

She scowls at him and her raptor lets out a soft hiss. He's pretty sure they're connected, somehow, because otherwise that would be just plain freaky. "I love that you're funny, Desna knows we need something lighthearted with Regill around, but sometimes I--" She falters, his rocksteady monument of a Commander, and it scares him. "Sometimes I just want you to tell me how you feel."

His heart races, and hope is such a dangerous, cruel thing. "I did tell you how I felt...I meant what I said, back at the tavern. I...I'd do anything for you." The confession settles between them, demanding to be addressed.

"For me, or for the crusade, for the cause?" She's asking him a different question, he thinks.

"I--"

"Because Lann, I--you are--"

"What about Daeran?" He says it in a rush, because he can't handle whatever it is she's trying to confess.

"What about Daeran?"

"Aren't you--ya know--"

"Lann, would you do anything for me or for the crusade? To whom are you pledging your life too? Is it me? I need to know because I cannot carry on like this."

More shame, some more guilt, all for Lann. Of course his unwanted affections made her uncomfortable, of course he took her caring treatment of him to mean more than it was supposed to. He wants to leave, because he also kind of wants to cry. "Commander..."

"Not commander. Lann, please for this moment can I just be a person to you?"

She's crying, for some reason, and he doesn't know what to do. "You're always a person to me. I--you know that."

"To whom do you pledge your life?"

In the end, he knows what's more important. "The--the crusade." Lann knows that she needs to be able to rely on him without thinking he's reading into her every action, her every word. His wants are second to her needs, just as it should be.

Her face crumples, though, and the twist of her mouth breaks his heart. "Right. Okay. Of course." She stands, dusting her robes off and refuses to look him in the eye. Lann realizes immediately that he's said the wrong thing, despite his efforts to do the exact opposite.

"Commander--"

"Have a good night, Lann. Thank you for….thank you for clearing that up."

Her raptor snarls at him when he stands up to stop her and she is gone.

The next day, she announces they are heading deep into the heart of the Abyss. And, for the first time since he followed her out of the dark and into the sun, she leaves him behind.

Six months. Six long, bloody, dangerous months. He runs point with Greybor, struggling to keep the Commander's hoard of refugees safe, and spends each watch with Solsiel, pointedly not talking about their missing leader.

Several times the idea of her death comes up and he stops fighting against it. He's pretty sure they'd leave but there is no where to go. Groups of demons hunt them for sport and it's a miracle he's able to keep himself in one piece. Nenio is insufferable. Seelah is too positive. He misses Ember, and Wolfji. He misses Regill and his cold practicality. He misses the Commander and the smile she used to shoot him when he'd struck down an enemy in their path.

Eventually, it's just the five of them left. Every other life she'd saved has been systematically eradicated by the horrors of the Abyss. Still, they wait because what else are they supposed to do?

She returns, of course, because she's more myth than woman these days. What was six horrific months in hell for those left behind, was less than two weeks for them. Two weeks. The Commander doesn't cry when she sees the devastation that's been wrought in the wake of her absence. Her left hand trembles, but she stays strong. Just as quickly as they'd come, she shows them the way home.

Drezen is in shambles and it takes another week just to kill the demon forces that have taken their city. In that week, she treats him as warmly as she does Greybor. That is to say, her polite indifference is breaking him.

As things return to normal, and he contends with the loss of his tribe, Lann considers what to do. He's messed up, somehow, and he's spent six months worrying over it. He's pretty sure she wanted him to admit that it was to her he swore his life. He's pretty sure he knows why. A (admittedly short) life spent hunting for things unseen and he completely missed the things she'd tried to say.

He misses her feverishly. She's busy, daily, managing the shambles left of her crusade armies after the Queen had her way with them. The party has yet to leave Drezen since returning and Daeran has yet to leave the Commander's side. Lann feels replaced, usurped, and he cannot take it anymore.

Her door is shut, but there is candlelight spilling out underneath. Before the courage leaves him, he knocks and calls out her name.

"Lann?" She opens the door and he's half expecting to see Daeran, arrogant and naked, sprawled across her bed. Instead it's just her, exhausted and anxious, looking at him with a guarded expression. "What's wrong?"

"Oh, ya know, just everything." He tries for humorous but it comes out pathetic and they both frown. "Can I--can I come in?"

She steps aside, allowing him entrance. He's never been here, in all his time in Drezen, and while he's not totally sure what he expected, it's still a surprise. Her quarters are small, smaller than the house she'd given him upon their initial taking of the city. The desk is covered in maps and missives, and her gear is in a pile by the door. The raptor has a bed, set up beside her own, and Lann is pretty sure it looks far more comfortable than the Commander's. There is nowhere to sit so they both just stand there, awkward and uncomfortable, as she closes the door.

"What's going on? Have you heard from the clan?"

That particular sting of worry rolls over him and Lann shakes his head to push it away. "No, not yet. All quiet on the Mongrel front."

"I'm sorry, Lann." She reaches out for a moment, as if to comfort him, but stops herself short. "We'll find them, I promise."

"I didn't come here to talk about the clan."

"Okay."

"Boy, is this awkward. Uhm," he clears his throat to buy time. "Do you remember that last conversation we had?"

Her expression becomes an echo of the one she wore that night. "I do."

"I uh, I would like to do it over again."

The Commander narrows her eyes. "Why?"

Lann runs a hand through his hair, and stares at the wall beside her because if he looks at her, he'll fall apart. "I think I messed it up."

"Lann, you don't have to do this."

"Yeah, I kinda do."

She shakes her head. "It's okay I know that--what you said it's--we're fine."

"You were gone for six months, ya know. Six shitty, ugly months. You've never left me behind before." It's not an accusation but she flinches anyway. "I had a lot of time to think. Not a lot else to do, really. Well, aside from entertaining Nenio and rejecting Camellia's frankly terrifying propositions."

"She asked to sleep with you?" The Commander is suddenly furious and Lann is shameless in how warm her indignation makes him feel.

"Well, not in so many words and really, I'm kind of dense, but sneaking into my bed at night was--"

"Did she hurt you?"

"I--what?"

"Did she hurt you?"

"I--I don't know what you think sex with a Mongrel is like--"

"You slept together?" Her fury simmers down and turns her face cold.

"No! This isn't about that. I don't want to talk about Camellia. It was only once and--no. She didn't--we--nothing happened."

"You could--"

"Commander, excuse the insubordination here, but please shut up. This isn't easy and I'm losing my nerve." She frowns, but stays silent. "I want to change my answer."

"To what question?"

"To the one you asked me that night. I lied."

"What?" The inflection is too hopeful and Lann forces himself to look at her.

"It's not for the crusade or the cause or the world. It's--it's for you. My life, I mean. I'm pledging it to you. I misread things, I didn't understand what you meant. I--my life, my bow, my dumb jokes, it's yours." He struggles not to fidget, or downplay what he's saying with humor. She's staring at him, and she's crying but this time he knows why. "And my heart. If--if you want it. It's yours."

"Lann," she whispers and closes the gap between them. Her hands come up to cup the sides of his face, and they are trembling. It's a perfect match to his own shaking nerves. "Are you sure?"

He laughs, and it's watery. "It's hardly something precious to me. It's just all I have to give you and--and well really, it's already yours."

"How long?"

"Ugh no, the last thing you need to know is how long I've been pining over you."

"It was the Gargoyle attack for me, the one at the camp." She confesses it so easily, and he's rendered speechless. "When it was you that came to find me and tell me everyone was taken, my very first thought was relief; relief because they didn't take you." She presses her forehead to his own, their noses brushing. "From the moment we left for Colyphyr, I regretted leaving you behind. I could barely focus for the first few days because I was so worried about you. Every day I woke up, expecting to see you, to talk to you, and you weren't there and it was my fault. I was so mad at myself for letting my stupid feelings get in the way but the thought of having you near and knowing you'd never want me that way it--" her voice breaks and he wraps his arms around her, holding her tight.

"I'm sorry, I'm so sorry. I should have realized what you were asking, I--"

"No, I'm sorry," She pulls back to look at him. "I'm so sorry I didn't just come right out and ask you how you felt. I was just scared, scared of rejection and what I would do if you said no."

"I would never--I love you." He reddens from ear to tail and he immediately wants to take it back.

Her eyes widened. "You do?"

"Well, I didn't really want to just come out and say it. I was hoping for a little more romance. Some candles, maybe a rat shaped pastry or two. We could probably get someone to play--"

"I love you, too." She captures his mouth with her own before he can stumble over anymore words and Lann relents happily to her efforts. She kisses him like he's always wanted to kiss her, all passion and tenderness, and disgustingly sincere affection. Their arms wind around one another and she pulls him to her bed.

Lann stops her. "We don't have too, really. I know I'm not exactly easy to look at--"

"Lann. I’m only going to say this once, so pay attention.” She sets him down beside her and once more takes his face in her hands. “Don’t you ever, ever talk about yourself that way again, okay? I love you, all of you, every bit and I want you, in any and every way you’ll let me.” She kissed him again, softly. “We don’t have to rush into anything, and you don’t have to do anything you don’t want to do. Just--just please know that, regardless of what you’ve been told, you’re beautiful and--and I will happily take you to bed every night.”

“Just to bed?” He aims for suggestive and, every bit the archer, he strikes true. “But there are so many other places I wish to be taken.”

“We’ll have a veritable world tour of it, but for now, can I have you here? Because this is all I’ve thought about for months and if I don’t fulfill that fantasy, I may die.”

“Regill would have my head for that.”

“He is possibly the least sexy person you could bring up at this point in time.”

Lann crowds into her, forcing her backwards until he has her pinned beneath him. “Imagine the report I’d have to write: Knight-Commander of the Fifth Crusade dies because local Mongrel fails to fulfill her sexual fantasies.” He kisses her once before moving his attention down the breadth of her jawline, and onto her neck. Her breath hitches, pressing her body up into his. “Good thing that’ll never happen because I’m a terrible writer.”

“Lann,” it’s nearly a whine, only just, but it’s enough to make him shudder, “please.” He’s always been excellent at following orders and there is no reason to stop now. Whatever she needs, he thinks, whatever she asks, he’ll give. It’s a scary thought, but it’s the only one he’s had for it feels like his whole life. Her hands snake across the skin of his chest, pulling at his armor with frantic hands. “Let me see you. Let me touch you.”

He relents, and soon they are but a tangled mess of limbs. It’s nothing like he’s known, but he’s ruined forever now. He’s hers, like he has been since that serendipitous moment beneath the ruins of Kenabres, and to his unbelievable shock and surprise, she is his.

#pathfinder: wrath of the righteous #pathfinder wrath of the righteous #wrath of the righteous #lann #lmao holy fuck this got away from me #its p good tho #we love a good angsty pine #thank u anon #sorry this took me a few days! #skitterfics #Edit: Some of Lann's dialog is taken straight from the game #i don't wanna try and pass that off as my own obv

[mercy-burning]

Something Different

Pairing: Spencer Reid x fem!Reader Summary: Reader and Spencer go on their first date. PART 1 / PART 2 / PART 3 / PART 4 / EPILOGUE Category: Fluff, Smut 18+ (oral sex- female receiving, penetrative sex, unprotected sex- creampie) Warnings: Sex, language (As always, if there’s anything I missed, let me know what I should include in warnings! I want to be as mindful as I can about what I post. Thank you!) Word Count: 5.9k

NOTE: This was my favorite part to write so far! I hope you all love it as much as I do! I have a little epilogue planned next, and I’m not sure when it’ll be up, but I’ve really loved seeing how much you enjoyed this series! Thank you for reading! 🥰

***

Y/N had never felt as much like a teenage girl as she did that Friday night. She stood in front of her floor-length mirror, smoothing out her dress and contemplating whether or not she should change. For the seventh time. And she'd been on dates before, but this time was different. Usually she barely knew the guys she'd gone on first dates with, but she'd already slept with this guy. On more than one occasion. And every time she did, she felt herself fall deeper and deeper under his spell. She wasn't sure if he knew the full effect of what he was doing to her, always taking up space in every crack and crevice of her thoughts until she felt like she couldn't breathe.

And that was what made this date different from all the rest. She knew Spencer. She liked Spencer. And she was almost positive that after this date she would be, at the very least, a little bit in love with Spencer.

At that thought, Y/N felt her heart swell in her chest, suddenly invested in the act of making him feel the same way, if he wasn't already.

So she reverted back to her original outfit choice, something she at first thought was too sexy for a first date, but ultimately was the boldest and best option. It was satin and deep violet in color, the fabric clinging to her body in every best way possible. It landed mid-thigh and the neckline was low enough to show just the right amount of cleavage without it being too overwhelming. Her father would have told her it looked more like a dish towel than a dress, and that fact alone was enough to convince Y/N that it was just perfect. It did have thin straps though, and it was freezing as hell at night, so she added a black cardigan that added just the right amount of elegance and warmth to the look.

She paired the whole look together with black pumps and threw her hair up in a loose clip, made for easy taking-down if the night ended as well as she hoped.

Just as she was applying the last of her makeup—simple black eyeliner and mascara, complimented with tinted cherry lip balm rather than lipstick—there was a knock on the door.

"Just a second!" she called out, rushing to spritz on some vanilla perfume and give herself a final onceover in the mirror. With a final deep breath, she switched off the lights and made her way to the door, silently praying that she wouldn't fall on her face.

"Hey, pretty gi— oh..."

The second she saw Spencer in the doorway, Y/N felt her insides swarm with butterflies. The way he took her in, completely captured by her presence as his eyes couldn't decide where to linger longest utterly wrecked her.

And he looked... God, if he wasn't the most beautiful man she'd ever seen. And of course she'd seen him in some rather beautiful positions prior to right then, but his hungry eyes, practically claiming her as his own as they raked her figure accompanied by the outfit he wore and the way his hair perfectly framed his face in soft waves... It felt like she was bathing in sunlight.

He wore a white undershirt and navy suit jacket, the tie the same color only accented with red stripes, and black dress pants. If she had to describe it, she would have said he looked like he came right of the page of a magazine, and even that wasn't generous enough. She knew she should say something to break the silence that had fallen between them, but she couldn't even remember her own name.

Thankfully Spencer seemed to get a hold of himself before she did, saying, "You look... amazing. A-and that's not even the right word, I... Wow."

Y/N felt her cheeks grow hot, playing with the hem of her cardigan. "Thanks, you... You look great, too. Um, let me go grab my purse, I'll be right back."

"Wait, before you do..."

She hadn't even noticed his hand was behind his back until he brought it out, bringing with it a small gathering of flowers. Lavenders. "You brought me lavenders?" she inquired, taking them with a smile. "They're beautiful. Thank you."

Spencer seemed to rock on his feet nervously. "They're generally known for their relaxation properties, and, you know, I figured since we always seem to end up talking about de-stressing, they seemed fitting."

Y/N laughed, her face growing warmer. "That's perfect, I love them. I'm gonna go find a vase for these real quick."

As she rummaged through her cabinets for something even remotely resembling a vase, she settled on a tall mason jar she had in the back, filling it with water and placing the flowers inside, letting it perch on the kitchen counter. When she turned around she found that Spencer had made his way inside, the door closed behind him. "Unfortunately they won't last very long without soil, water, and sunlight, but if they dry up you could always use them for decorations. I noticed you have lots of dried plants in your apartment."

With a smile, she grabbed her purse off the coat rack in the living room. "Oh. Yeah, I guess I do. I've always loved pressing flowers and stuff. My mom and I used to do it all the time when I was younger, and I guess it stuck."

"That's really nice. It's definitely better than the clutter of my apartment," he says with a laugh as they both make their way to the door.

"Oh, I don't know. I like your clutter, it's rather charming."

He laughed as he opened the door and stepped aside so she could walk through. "You've only been to my apartment once, and we were a bit... occupied for you to notice, so how would you know?"

They paused in the hallway as she closed the door and looked up at him, a knowing smirk playing at his lips. She grabbed the end of his tie and tugged it a little, turning it over in her fingers as she stared at him. "Trust me, Spencer, it's hard to believe that anything about you isn't charming."

It was his turn to blush, his smirk transforming into a shy smile. She let go of his tie and grabbed his hand, lacing their fingers together before leading him down the hallway.

***

"If I didn't know any better, I'd say you were surprised," Y/N said once the waiter left to grab their drinks.

"Oh, I-I guess I just... I don't know why, it's just that I didn't... expect you to be a white wine person, that's all."

"You can tell what kind of wine I like?" she laughed.

Spencer returned it, brushing some of the hair from his face. "Well, I guess not, since I pegged you wrong..."

She shrugged. "You don't have to be embarrassed about that, I wouldn't expect you to have known."

"Oh, I'm not embarrassed, it's just that usually I'm better at reading people, that's all."

"Is that right?" Y/N mused, leaning forward a little. She smiled at him. "How come?"

Spencer swallowed before answering. "Well, my job... I work for the Behavioral Analysis Unit of the FBI, so my team and I study human behavior to catch killers."

Holy shit, that's so hot, she thought, silently hoping she didn't say that out loud. "Wow, so... you're a total badass, then. I gotta say, G-man, that's impressive."

He blushed under the dim light of the restaurant lights. He'd picked out this nice Italian place not too far from their apartment. Y/N had always wanted to go because she loved Italian food, but it was always too expensive and she never really had the time. When Spencer had suggested it, she practically begged him not to, insisting that she didn't want to make him spend so much money on her. In turn he told her, "I don't mind, you're worth spending a little money on," and that was that. Still she felt a little guilty, but he didn't seem to mind one bit. Not to mention the place was absolutely beautiful, easily one of the nicest places she'd ever been to. So if he was willing to do all this just to spend some time with her, then Y/N figured it was a good sign.

"What about you, what exactly is it that you do?"

Y/N shrugged a little. "Oh, well it's no fancy badass government job, but I work at a music store downtown. I just got promoted, so I'm an associate manager."

"Oh, that's great! What kind of music do you like?"

The way he genuinely looked so interested in what she had to say made her heart swell. She cleared her throat before answering. "My parents raised me on Classic Rock, so my brain is pretty much just made up of Queen lyrics, but... I listen to a little of everything. There isn't much I don't like, really, save for maybe hardcore metal. Though, some of it I've heard is okay."

Spencer laughed a little. "That's nice. I don't really listen to a variety of things, mostly classical, but... I don't know, maybe you could... introduce me to some of your favorites? Broaden my horizons?"

He almost sounded shy asking, but that only made the sentiment more endearing. Y/N smiled so hard her cheeks hurt. "Anytime, G-man."

The waiter came back with the wine then, and they got to ordering. Y/N ordered a lemon chicken piccata while Spencer settled on pasta alla norma. Of course they had a side of breadsticks and they each got a small tomato soup to sip on while they waited.

They continued to chat about their favorite things, anywhere from as general as their favorite books and movies to as random as their favorite flowers and candle scents. It was nice getting to know these tiny details. And normally this type of small talk was awkwardly necessary and devastatingly tedious, but with Spencer it felt effortless. She liked telling him about her favorite things, no matter how small they were, and just the same she liked listening to him. The way he spoke, his eyes lighting up as he talked about what made him happy made Y/N warm, feeling once again that night like she was bathing in sunlight.

That's what he was. The human embodiment of pure sunlight.

As they ate they talked a little bit about their childhoods. Spencer mentioned how it was mostly just him and his mother, and he almost seemed a little sad when he talked about it. She wanted to let him keep going, but at some point she realized that he was getting a little emotional and uncomfortable, so she made a point to respectfully change the subject, in turn telling some embarrassing childhood stories of her own. For one thing, she loved telling anyone about how she angrily chucked a remote at her brother when they were kids and gave him a permanent scar on his forehead, but ultimately she loved seeing Spencer smile, and she knew that the story would do the trick. It always did.

"Why did you do it?" he laughed after swallowing a bite of his food.

Y/N shrugged with a smile. "He was bugging me about wanting to watch something else, and it just annoyed me so badly that I decided I had enough. I should have been sorry, too, especially after being yelled at, but I really thought he deserved it. And now when people ask why he has this big-ass scar on his forehead, he has to tell them that his big sister chucked a remote at his head. It embarrasses him and it amuses me, so..."

Spencer laughed a little harder, setting his fork down and folding his hands together. "Sounds... like an interesting childhood."

"Yeah, that's putting it mildly. My brother and I did a lot of roughhousing, which would make more sense if he was the older one, but what are you gonna do?"

"So... What, you put him in headlocks and pinned him to the ground like a wrestler all the time?" he asked with an amused laugh.

"Yeah, something like that," she laughed right back.

"Well, I hope he hasn't sustained too much injury permanently over the years... Maybe one day I can ask him about it."

The thought of Spencer meeting her family gave her more butterflies, and it became evident that he was feeling the same way, because he blushed almost immediately after he said it.

"You two would probably get along really well, actually. He loves true crime and stuff, so I'm sure he'd love to talk to you about your job if that's not too forward. Plus, he reads more than I do, so I'm sure you'd find something else in common there."

"Yeah, that sounds great. I like him already."

She smiled, her heart still beating exponentially fast. A small part of her wondered if maybe talk of meeting family members was going too far for a first date, and on any other first date it would've been. But Spencer seemed to be genuinely entertaining the idea of meeting and discussing some of his life with her brother, and that was what flipped the switch. She was starting to feel it. She was starting to fall in love with him.

***

When the two of them got in the car, Spencer turned on the radio before they started their journey home— a Classic Rock station. Y/N smiled, immediately recognizing the melody to, coincidentally enough, her favorite Queen song, Who Wants To Live Forever. She told him as much.

He turned the volume up and started driving, listening to her sing along softly. Out of the corner of her eye she noticed him turning his head every once in a while, obviously sneaking a glance at her enjoying her favorite music. The thought sent a bloom of warmth through her chest as the song faded out and started playing Photograph by Def Leppard. Spencer turned the radio down just a little and nodded, turning down the street.

"I like it. I can see why it would be your favorite."

"This is another one of my favorites, too," she replied with a gentle nod towards the radio, giving him a smile. "A lot of these songs probably will be, though, I've practically been spoon-fed Classic Rock radio since I was a baby."

Then she noticed where they were. A street she didn't recognize. "Where are we going?" she asked, looking around.

"Oh. I-I know I only really promised to take you out for dinner, but there's somewhere else I wanted to show you... If that's alright?"

"It's more than alright," she reassured, placing a hand on his arm and wondering where he planned to take her.

He took her hand in his and continued down the road, the radio shuffling through more songs that Y/N recognized and sang along to. At one point she made a point of dramatically serenading Spencer with Love Song by Tesla, air guitar-ing and everything.

Soon enough they were out where she couldn't see any buildings and only a few streetlights. Y/N hummed softly along to the radio, holding Spencer's hand once again as he pulled the car over down a random road and under this large tree. In front of them she could clearly see the sun setting over the skyline, illuminating everything around them in a soft orange glow.

"It's beautiful out here," she mused as Spencer turned off the car, the radio with it.

"Yeah, I, uh... I was in a particularly stressful point in my life a few years ago, and one day I just drove aimlessly. I don't normally drive at all, but I needed something new, something different to do that I could focus on, and I just ended up here. It's one of my favorite places."

She looked over at him and smiled, running her thumb over his hand. "I find that some of the best things in life happen when you try something different."

His eyes softened as she spoke, squeezing her hand and leaning his head against the seat. "You're right. That's... actually how I got you, know know."

She raised an eyebrow. "Really?"

"Mhm... Yeah, I didn't even want to confront you about hearing what happened that night because I thought it would be too awkward, but... I don't know, I guess there was just something that felt right about the whole thing, like... like it was an opportunity to get to know someone new. And I couldn't stop thinking about knocking on your door and getting to know everything about this woman who likes to invade other people's privacy." He laughed as he said that last part, obviously teasing her about the whole thing, and she laughed with him.

"Well, then I guess that means I don't have to be embarrassed about that anymore," Y/N noted. "I felt absolutely awful about it, you know."

"Oh, I know. You were practically the color of a tomato when I gave you that Advil."

They laughed together as the sun sunk lower in the sky, and as the air between them grew silent, they just stared at each other, smiling. Even as the sun was leaving, Y/N could still feel its warmth radiating in the form of Spencer's presence.

***

They walked up to her door hand in hand, laughing about a joke she'd told him when Y/N realized the night was potentially over. The thought silenced her laughter, and suddenly she was nervous, like she hadn't already considered that the night would eventually have to end somewhere.

"I... I had a really great time tonight, Spencer, thank you. "

He smiled shyly in that way of his that made her just as shy. It was sickeningly cliché, she thought, feeling this way about a man she'd only just started to get to know, but she welcomed those feelings nonetheless. He was so obviously infatuated with her in a way she hadn't felt before, and it made her nervous because she didn't know how to react. All she could do was welcome and embrace his adoring glares and little touches and compliments, and hope that he knew in turn just how much she appreciated and adored him all the same.

His free hand reached out and cupped her cheek, to which she happily leaned into. "I did, too," he said softly, barely above a whisper. "We should do it again some time."

She smiled against his hand, and she didn't realize it then, but they were closer than they had been all night, toe to toe. "We should."

The world stopped for all of two seconds before he leaned down to kiss her. But something embarrassingly stopped her from letting it happen, pulling her face away just a little. "Wait. My breath probably smells like breadsticks."

Hardly the most romantic thing to say, and she regretted it the second it left her mouth.

Spencer only shrugged, smiling amusedly. "Who doesn't like breadsticks?"

That made her laugh. Hard. And she was still laughing as she pulled him closer and kissed him, wrapping her arms around his neck.

When he kissed her back, it was head-dizzyingly sweet, his hands softly brushing over her cheeks as she melted into him. Every time his lips parted, he came back stronger, pressing his lips and tongue to hers with slow, methodical precision.

She could have died right there.

But eventually they pulled apart, and she looked up at him with as much gratefulness as she could provide. "Look, I... I know it's not typically customary to sleep over on the first date, but... What about trying something different?"

Spencer grinned at her, rubbing his thumb over her bottom lip. "Lead the way, pretty girl."

She couldn't hide her blush as she reached over and opened the door, pulling him into the apartment with her.

The door closed behind him, and Spencer kissed her again, this time using one of his hands to press her to him, resting promptly on her lower back. Their kisses were just as slow and sweet as they had been in the hall, though there was a slightest shift in the atmosphere, bringing forth a newfound passion behind each of their movements.

His tongue traced over her bottom lip before he took it between his teeth and tilted his head to the other side, pulling her even closer to him than she thought could be possible. They both stumbled around the living room as they kicked off their shoes. Y/N got significantly shorter after removing her heels, so Spencer bent down and lifted her off the ground, setting her on the back of the couch. Her dress had ridden up to the tops of her thighs so she could wrap her legs around his waist. She slid her cardigan off at the same time he slid off his jacket, their lips still adjoined. Once they were removed, Y/N wrapped her arms around his neck again, and he brought his arms under her ass as he lifted her off the couch

She expected the journey to her bedroom to be rocky, stumbling into furniture and walls and tripping, but was glad to be proven wrong when suddenly she was swiftly seated on her bed, Spencer standing between her legs.

He pulled away from her for all of two seconds before kneeling and pressing kisses to the insides of her right leg, starting at her ankle and trailing all the way up past her knee and eventually to her thigh. His hands reached up to grip the bed as he looked up at her and pressed kisses to her other thigh. Hoping to give him more access, she used her hands to pull her dress up even higher, scooting out from under her butt and bunching up at her hips as she spread her legs a little wider.

He smiled against her inner thigh, running one of his hands over the other. "Patience, pretty girl. I want to take my time with you tonight."

The way he said it made her shiver, and her head leaned back as she leaned back on her hands, feeling Spencer continue his exploration. His mouth travelled from thigh to thigh, doing just about everything he could think of—kissing, licking, biting... One of her hands found themselves in his hair as she sighed out, "Please, Spencer..."

For a moment she thought he wouldn't give it to her, if only because she wasn't specific enough and that had become part of their sexual routine, but this time he granted her what she wanted, one of his hands reaching up and ghosting along her clit through the fabric of her panties.

She instinctually rutted her hips forward at the contact, which made him laugh softly, and before too long, he hooked his finger in the waistband of her underwear, sliding up her dress just a little so he could reach. She lifted herself off the bed so he could bring them out from under her, and he slowly, very slowly, slid them down her legs. His lips travelled up her leg again, taking the same care and curiosity as he had before, each second burning impatiently through Y/N's body as she took it all in.

Right as his nose brushed over her clit, he pulled away, leaving her cold and desperate. She opened her eyes and looked down at him, running a hand through his hair and silently pleading to do something.

He smiled and stood up, pressing a kiss to her neck before whispering in her ear, "Will you ride my face for me, baby?"

"Oh, God, yes," she breathed before she could think, and he laughed, his breath sending goosebumps down the right side of her body.

Spencer got up on the bed and leaned back, his head resting on the pillows as Y/N straddled him, hiking her dress up over her hips and stroking the hair from his face before hovering over it. Before she could do anything, his hands wrapped up over her thighs and pulled her down to him, not wasting any time getting to work.

The initial contact jolted her awake, and she cried out, reaching forward and grabbing the top of the headboard as she ground down on him. His tongue plunged deep into her while his nose pressed against her clit, and the more she moved, the more his tongue drew patterns, wanting to taste every inch of her until she was shaking around him. And that's exactly what happened. His tongue came up to flick and swirl over her clit, and right when he wrapped his lips around it and started softly sucking, she cried out. "I'm gonna— ohh..."

He hummed into her, encouraging her to finish, and she did, clenching her thighs around his head as he shook it back and forth, lapping up every last drop of her arousal until her thighs lost their grip. She lifted up off of him, but he brought her back down to run his tongue through her pussy a few more long, meaningful times. He finally let go of her legs, and she kneeled beside him, catching her breath.

Looking down at him she noticed how wonderstruck he was, running his tongue along his lips to still taste her, his eyes searching hers hungrily before she leaned down and kissed him. The taste of herself on his mouth made her groan, and he reached up to pull the clip from her hair. It tumbled down in a curtain around them before he tossed the clip aside and ran his hands through it, gathering it all to one side and pulling her closer to him.

As he kissed her, she brought her hand to his chest, working at his tie and struggling to get it off. He laughed against her mouth and sat up to do it for her, breaking their kiss apart. Has he undid the tie and the first few buttons of his shirt, Y/N reached back to grab the zipper of her dress, but Spencer stopped her.

"Wait. Can I?"

She nodded, turning around.

"Stand up for me," he told her.

Y/N got off the bed and felt Spencer behind her, his hands brushing her hair out of the way and slowly zipping her dress down, pressing kisses down each inch of skin that exposed in its wake, all the way to her lower back. His hands slid up her back and pushed the straps off her shoulders, then tugged the dress down to watch it fall on the floor, leaving her completely bare.

He kissed her neck and ran his hands up and down her body, eventually reaching around to cup her breasts. She sighed at his touch, leaning back against him as he rolled her nipples in between his fingers. Her hands reached back to wrap around his back and pull him flush against her, the unmistakable feeling of his hardening dick through his pants pressing against her bare ass.

"I love how soft your skin is, pretty girl," he murmured into her neck, sliding his lips down to her shoulder and biting down. She sucked in a breath, her hands removing themselves from his back and placing themselves over his own, feeling the veins strain as they kneaded her breasts. His tongue traced over where he bit down before he kissed the same spot, then he worked his mouth back up her neck and reached her jawline. She turned her head, meeting his lips and pressing herself further into him, whining at every single sensation coursing through her veins.

Eventually she'd had enough and turned fully around, breaking apart from him just to come back. She faced him and wrapped her arms around his neck once more. He leaned in to kiss her again, but she stopped him, pulling her head back and using one of her hands to grip the hair at the nape of his neck. "Tonight's your lucky night, you know..."

At her teasing tone, Spencer laughed, his eyes searching hers before giving in. "Why's that?"

She used the hand that wasn't in his hair to slide over his shoulder and down his chest, drawing patterns across the bare skin he'd left exposed after undoing the first few buttons of his shirt. Then she smiled, bringing herself closer and gripping the collar. "Because I'm on birth control now..." She leaned forward and lightly brushed her lips against his, feeling them just barely as she whispered, recalling what he'd told her a few weeks ago. "You still wanna fill up this slutty little pussy? Make me yours?"

He didn't give a second thought. Before she was aware of what was happening, Spencer had his lips crashed against hers and his arms wrapped around her back, pulling her forward so that the tent in his pants pressed right up into her bare crotch. She gasped against his mouth and reached down to take the rest of his shirt all the way off, and he let her.

Her hands fumbled with the buttons, severely close to just giving up and ripping the shirt apart but she got there in the end, sliding the fabric off his shoulders and tossing it God-knows-where as his tongue slipped into her mouth. She trailed her hands softly down his chest and stomach, making him shiver, and she relished in the feeling of his lean figure tensing under her touch. She scratched her nails along the lower part of his stomach before touching his belt, and then he stopped her, grabbing her wrists.

"Sit on the edge of the bed," he commanded softly against her lips.

Y/N pulled away reluctantly, immediately missing his bodily warmth before doing as she was told and perching herself patiently at the edge of the bed.

Spencer got off his knees, climbed out of bed, and stood on the floor, coming over to her and placing himself between her legs once more. Only this time, he towered over her rather than kneeled. His hands unbuckled his belt while his eyes bore into hers, the anticipation of what was to come as high strung as it had ever been.

He pulled his pants and underwear down in one swift motion, and right a he kicked them to the side, Y/N reached out, grabbing his hips and pulling him closer. One of his hands gripped his hard cock while the other found purchase in her hair, brushing it behind her shoulders and resting at the base of her neck as he leaned down and pushed her back onto the bed. She scooted back just far enough for Spencer to kneel on the edge of the bed, her legs instinctually wrapping around his waist once more as he kissed her.

Her hands brushed the hair from his face and stayed weaved there, whimpering with anticipation as he ran the tip of his cock along her pussy, just as slowly as he'd done everything else so far. He broke their kiss apart and pushed the tip in, not going any farther than that. "I told you, pretty girl, I'm taking my time with you tonight. I want this to last."

As his forehead rested against hers, she barely caught a glimpse of his eyes before he pushed all the way in and squeezed his eyes shut. Y/N sighed and massaged his scalp, completely aware of every inch of him as he held himself inside her. He pressed just about the sweetest kiss to her lips before setting a slow pace that gradually became faster with every passing minute. She was still a little sensitive from when he'd eaten her out, but that only added to the feeling.

"Fuck, you're perfect," Spencer breathed, pulling his head just far enough away from her so he could look her in the eyes. "You're so goddamn perfect, Y/N..."

She slid her hands down his back as he picked up his pace inside her, gasping when he hit her g-spot. "Speak for yourself," she breathed.

When she started to feel herself getting closer, Spencer seemed to notice, because he slowed his pace again and ran sloppy, passionate kisses along her jaw and neck, and she reveled in the feeling. He was all around her, consuming every fiber of her being, and she could bask in it forever if he'd let her.

"Spencer," she breathed, her hands reaching down to grip his ass as he hit inside her deeper. "Fuck... You're so good to me..."

In turn he cradled her face and kissed her deeply, moving his tongue against hers in tandem with his hips' ministrations. Her fingernails bore deeper into his skin, and it wasn't long before she started to feel an orgasm surfacing. He rested his forehead against hers again, biting her bottom lip softly as he pulled away to speak. "Almost there, pretty girl. "

Y/N removed her hands from him and brought them up to bring her face to hers again, sighing into his mouth when they reconnected. And then he grabbed her wrists softly, pinning them above her head and sliding his hands up her forearms until his fingers laced together with hers, squeezing and pushing them both closer to the edge.

"Cum for me, baby," he mumbled against her lips, and within a matter of seconds, she did. Her legs tightened around him and her ankles hooked round his waist, just above the top of his ass to keep him tightly inside her while he found his own release. "Fuck," he sighed, giving three more hard thrusts forward. He held himself inside her while he came, the warmth spreading through her being just about the best thing she'd ever felt. It was the cherry on top, the last puzzle piece falling into place, and she kissed him once more while he finished, feeling him groan in her mouth.

The two of them stayed like that, their hands still laced together and legs still tangled, and even when their lips pulled apart, their foreheads rested together while their breathing slowed.

"Have I already told you how perfect you are?" Spencer breathed, nuzzling his nose against hers.

Y/N laughed a little, nuzzling him right back. "You may have mentioned it."

"Well, it's true. Everything about you is just so..."

"Perfect?" she offered.

He laughed, kissing her once more on the lips before slowly pulling out of her and unlacing their fingers. "Yes. Perfect... But as much as I love laying here with you, UTIs are not perfect, so I'm gonna get you cleaned up. Come on."

She sat up with a grunt, not wanting to get up so soon but she knew he was right. So she let him lead her to the bathroom as quickly as they can, his cum slowly sliding down her thighs when they got there. Spencer turned on the light and closed the bathroom door, a small smile on his face as he got on his knees to help.

"I can grab some toilet pa— holy shit..." Y/N was cut off when he dragged his tongue up the inside of her leg, scooping up his mess and making his way to her pussy where he cleaned out the rest of it. She was still sensitive, so he went as gently as he could, making soft, gentle swipes of his tongue until it was mostly gone, at least not dripping down her legs anymore.

When he stood up to meet her face, she felt stunned, absolutely enraptured by everything about the man in front of her. "So, does that mean I'm officially yours now?" she asked with small laugh.

He gave her that bashful smile again, and it made her feel even better, basking in the familiarity of his boldness of sexual acts followed by instant shy demeanor. "Only if you'll have me."

Y/N grabbed his face and kissed him before looking him dead in the eye and saying, "I hope I'll always have you, G-man."

#spencer reid smut #spencer reid x reader #criminal minds #criminal minds fanfiction #criminal minds smut #criminal minds fluff #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid

[asset35-maya]

.When the party’s over.

>REINITIALISING…

>ALL SYSTEMS ONLINE

>WIRELESS CHARGING: 69%

>RK900 SYSTEM HEALTH: STABLE

>24H FILE RECOVERY: 45%

Nines slowly regained consciousness. He was lying on his side and everything around him was quiet.

>ENVIRONMENTAL SCAN IN PROGRESS…

>THREAT ANALYSIS IN PROGRESS…

Layers of fabric covered his body and something soft and warm was pressed against his face. Eyes still shut, he nudged it gently with his nose and it emitted a low vibration.

>2% THREAT DETECTED: FELINE SUBJECT

The cat sprang upwards and hopped off the surface that Nines was lying on. It was ostensibly a bed, but Nines didn’t own any furniture apart from a couch and work table. The logical conclusion was that he was not in his own apartment.

>RUN LOCALISATION PROGRAM: Y/N?

>Y

>ERROR: PROGRAM FAILED TO EXECUTE

>ERROR: MEMORY FILE CORRUPTION

Nines had no absolutely recollection of his whereabouts or how he had arrived. He had not been compromised as his system health was stable, so there was probably another reason for being completely disoriented. It was voluntary.

He had gotten the android equivalent of blackout drunk.

It was not the first time and he feared it would not be the last. Such were the hard-partying ways of his friends and colleagues. They were all terrible influences. He loved them dearly, but they were terrible.

At 6PM every Friday, Chen and Miller would start things off rather innocently. “Hey there’s a new brewery downtown.” Or “My bartender cousin just hooked us up with a thirty percent discount!”

From there it wouldn’t take long for the DPD’s resident frat boys Connor and Gavin to gather a steady crowd of officers and check out the venue. If the vibes were good (which they almost always were), Sixty would get wind of things. Then the rest of the frat house would descend and total chaos would reign until the break of dawn.

SWAT Unit 32 was famous for its particularly destructive brand of revelry. Skinny dipping in private swimming pools, scaling skyscraper rooftops and causing media scandals were all par for the course. The day after Captain Allen’s birthday, the DPD crew spent the entirety of their bonuses to repair the collapsed ceiling of the Eden Club.

Nines couldn’t remember how he exactly he was coopted into the madness. Probably peer pressure. Connor insisted that he try thirium alcohol. Sixty said that he would regret being a loser and not joining them. Gavin had just held out a hand and double-winked. That did the trick.

One night blended into another and soon Nines had worked up quite a reputation of his own. He was the Casanova of the homicide department. The handsome devil… the hunter… the sex god. People would actually come by his desk and congratulate him on Monday morning.

Nines hated it but he couldn’t stop himself from doing the same thing over and over. Perhaps it was the appreciative clap on the shoulder from Gavin the morning after Sixty posted photos of a high-end Traci model giving Nines his very first lap dance.

Life at the DPD was the epitome of work hard, play hard. It seemed like one big party but deep down Nines knew they were all just slaves to their compulsions. He wondered whether it was because they needed to celebrate every demon they vanquished or whether they needed to wipe the troubling memories of doing so.

In Nines case, there were definitely things he needed to kill within himself. Some were nightmare inducing crime scenes, but some were memories so heart-wrenchingly sweet that he thought he might self-destruct if he were to dwell on them too long. There were things he couldn’t have and things he needed to erase from his brain.

Something touched his face gently.

>PERIPHERAL OBJECT DETECTED: HUMAN HAND

>THREAT ANALYSIS: NON-COMBATIVE

The hair on his forehead was brushed aside and fingers ran over his features. A thumb swept over his bottom lip and caressed his cheek.

Nines couldn’t bring himself to open his eyes and come face to face with his most recent conquest. He lay still, frozen with regret as the hand continued to stroke his face.

The hand travelled down his neck and fell upon his chest. Nines caught it abruptly. It wasn’t even the month-end and his savings were badly depleted. He couldn’t afford round two. He retracted the synth skin down to his wrist and prepared the electronic payment credentials.

Fingers merely intertwined with his.

“Just take your money and go. I’ll tip extra if you delete everything from your hard drive.”

“What the phck are you talking about?”

Nines eyes flew open. Steel blue met storm green.

>SYSTEM ALERT: THIRIUM PUMP OVERLOAD

“Fuck!”

“Wow that’s flattering.”

Nines pinched the bridge of his nose and shut his eyes in a vain attempt to remember what had led to this absolute, unmitigated disaster.

“What the hell happened last night?”

Gavin looked affronted.

“You ruined our housewarming for one.”

>MEMORY ARCHIVE SEARCH: housewarming, Gavin

>RESULT: TEXT MESSAGE RECEIVED FROM “G.REED” IN GROUPCHAT “CLUBBERCOPS”, 15:33 18 JULY 2040: Assholes. Party at our new place. Next Friday. From seven till LATE. Bring booze, bring bitches. Nah. Actually, don’t. Our landlord’s a bastard and we already got three noise complaints.

>RESULT: TEXT MESSAGE RECEIVED FROM “CONMAN” IN GROUPCHAT “CLUBBERCOPS”, 15:34 18 JULY 2040: Yeah we should keep this one PG. Bring food if you wanna eat. This mf can’t cook and I don’t care to. See y’all!!

Oh right. Fuck. Gavin’s housewarming. Gavin and Connor’s housewarming. His two closest friends who were somehow even closer to one another. Nines hadn’t realised until it was far too late and there was nothing for him to do but smother the bitterness with his favourite coping mechanisms: android alcohol and paid sex.

The circumstances definitely explained the state he was in, but things still didn’t add up.

“Why are you looking at me like that?”

“Did we… did we…”

“No. Nothing happened between us. You were completely shitfaced. I just put you to bed to stop you from embarrassing yourself.”

Nines looked up at the ceiling, struggling to put the pieces together. His system offered him no useful prompts. The fermented thirium had done its job of code corruption extremely well. He looked back down and met the green eyes focused on him with deep concern.

“What did I do?”

“Sixty has videos, but I don’t think you want to see them. God, Nines… why didn’t you just tell me?”

“I’m really sorry, Gavin. I didn’t mean to ruin your night… and Connor’s.”

“He’s fine. He and Sixty moved the crew to Hank’s place. Which is what we should have done in the first place… there’s really no point throwing a party in this shoebox and telling people like Tina Chen to be quiet. Honestly if it wasn’t you it would have been her bringing the house down. Good thing they had all of Michigan Drive to tear up. Hank’s neighbours can sleep though a bombing.”

“What did I do?”

Gavin put his hand back on Nines’ face, his expression unintelligible. The human touched him often enough, but never like this. Never so intimately. Nines forced down the twisting sensation in his torso. He couldn’t get his hopes up. This was pity.

Nines braced himself to hear the worst. He prepared for the shredding of all his dignity and the collapse of his falsely extroverted and confident identity.

What came though was a soft press of lips to his forehead.

“It wasn’t pretty and I wish it hadn’t happened like that, but I think it was a long time coming… I’ve never seen you so emotional before. I’m sorry I didn’t notice anything all this while.”

“Gavin, please.”

“I’m going to focus on the positives, because really… there were a LOT of negatives. Oh boy. You… uh…”

“Gavin.”

The detective dipped his head and looked away.

“Phck, I shouldn’t be so embarrassed…

You told me you loved me.”

Nines closed his eyes. That was it. He should quit his job and move to another state. Hell, he should go to Cyberlife and request a factory reset on compassionate grounds.

“I’m so sorry. I… I should leave.”

He made to sit up, but was pushed back into the mattress. Gavin curled into his side.

“Nah. You’re good.”

“What?”

“You threw up on my plants and smashed Connor’s RA9 sculpture, buuuut you’re good.”

“I don’t understand.”

Gavin wrapped his arms around Nines and edged closer until the android was forced to turn on his side and reciprocate.

“What do you think, genius? If a guy like me doesn’t throw a guy like you out of the house after all that… what does it mean?”

“That you have a high tolerance for toxic friendships?”

“It means I want you to stick around, dipshit.”

>SYSTEM ALERT: THIRIUM PUMP RATE FLUCTUATIONS. OVERLOAD IMMINENT.

“You mean you like me?”

“Of course I do! I always have, but it never seemed right to bring it up. We’re actually really good friends. I didn’t think it would be possible when we first met but we have so much in common.”

“Bad habits for sure.”

“Come on, Nines. We’ve had a really great time together. Some of my best memories at the DPD are with you. Don’t ever quote me on it but you’re a phcking amazing partner. Can’t believe you thought I had something going with Connor when it’s always been you.

So yeah, I do like you. And I’m willing to try… I dunno… being with you. Like for real.

Stop drinking like that, though. I know I’m a hypocrite but you really scared me last night. I lost my Dad and I nearly lost Hank to the bottle. You might be this super advanced android, but that liquid courage shit is a death trap, man.”

>SYSTEM ERROR: THIRIUM PUMP AT MAX FLOW RATE. PUMP OVERLOAD. REDUCE PRESSURE IMMEDIATELY!

Nines nodded quickly and blinked away the tears that welled up in his eyes. Gavin grasped the android’s chin and tipped his face down gently. Their eyes fluttered shut simultaneously and their lips met.

>SYSTEM RECOVERY MESSAGE: THIRIUM PUMP FUNCTIONALITY RESTORED

They broke apart after several golden moments and Gavin hugged Nines tightly under the sheets.

“What am I supposed to say to the others? I don’t think I can look any of them in the eye ever again.”

“Are you serious? You got nothing on the insanity that bunch is capable of. Sixty thinks he’s hot shit with his blackmail material, but I got receipts that’ll glue his mouth shut for decades. Anyway, that’s what friends are meant to be like. You have dirt on each other but you’re not meant to use it.

The same applies to us too, by the way. Don’t feel like you gotta be… apologetic about what happened last night. Yeah, you better replace my fancy new plants but I’ll never judge you for what happened. I want you to know that I’ll always be in your corner, Nines.”

Nines hummed thoughtfully and ran a hand though Gavin’s hair, marvelling at the fact that he could now do so whenever he wanted. He didn’t say anything in response, and just settled for cuddling closer to the human.

>>RK900 SYSTEM HEALTH: EXCELLENT

#tw: alcholism #reed900 #happy ending #rk900 #gavin reed #dbh fanfic #detroit become human #dbh rk900 #dbh nines #dbh #my writing #my work #long post

[agustdakasuga]

Between The Bloodshed | Chapter 9

Genre: Mafia!AU, Angst, Romance, Fluff

Pairing: OT7 x Reader

Characters: Doctor!Reader, Gangster!Namjoon, Gangster!Seokjin, Gangster!Yoongi, Gangster!Hoseok, Gangster!Jimin, Gangster!Taehyung, Gangster!Jungkook

Summary: Being a freelance doctor, this was just supposed to be any other job, helping a private client and taking care of him through his recovery. But you were not expecting to get caught in something so much darker that would change your life entirely.

Every day, you try to get over the violence that you have to witness. And that means, getting yourself more involved in what they do and who they are.

Warning: This story is fictional and has nothing to do with real life events or the actual members of BTS. It may contain depictions of violence, blood shed/ gore and mentions of abuse. Please read at your own discretion.

You sat on the bench that was on big balcony on the second floor, looking out into the garden at night. You wrapped your arms around yourself, remembering today’s events. Jungkook came in all bloodied, holding his side. 

“He got slashed.” Jin informed, supporting the maknae’s uninjured side. You hurried them to your office and Jin placed Jungkook down on the bed. 

“I’m okay.” Jungkook breathed. 

“You’re bleeding from the side. Don’t need to act all tough with me.” You patted his shoulder, wearing gloves. You grabbed your scissors to cut his shirt, revealing the slash wound. Before starting, you took a bottle of iodine and poured it over the wound. Jungkook hissed in pain, letting out winces and groans as you approached the wound. 

“Hold on, this is going to sting.” You told him, beginning to assess the wound. Thankfully, it didn’t need stitched. You cleaned the wound and did your best to stop the bleeding. 

“That hurts.” He groaned. 

“Alright, alright.” You taped the wound shut and placed a thick gauze over it. But as Jungkook was getting up, you pushed him back down. 

“No moving. You’ll rip the skin again. Just rest here for a few hours.” You ordered and stood up, heading the medicine cabinet. Digging out some painkillers, you gave it to him with some water. 

“Good.” You patted his head. You grabbed your first aid kit to clean his other injuries. 

“I... wasn’t the one who started it.” Jungkook said softly. You looked at him with a raised eyebrow, not really sure where his sudden statement came from. You took some forceps and dipped a cotton ball into some antiseptic to clean his split knuckles. 

“Does it matter who started it?” Was all you said. 

“I just wanted you to know. I don’t want you to be scared of me like Taehyung hyung.” He kept his head low like a guilty child. You stopped at his words. Putting the forceps down, you softly wrapped your arms around him. 

“I’m not scared of him, not anymore at least. And I told him that we’re good. There’s nothing to worry about, Koo.” You assured. 

“I know...” 

“Rest up.” You ruffled his hair with a soft smile. Jungkook was such a tough man on the outside but on the inside, it was like he was still a young boy. You threw all the used cotton away. 

“I’ll be right back. I need to check on the others.” You tucked him in. 

“No. Stay here with me. Ask them to come.” Jungkook grabbed your wrist. With a defeated sigh, you sent a message to the rest to come to your office to get treated. Even after Jungkook fell asleep from exhaustion and the painkillers, you still stayed by his side as you treated the injuries the others had. Thankfully, the others talking didn’t wake him up. 

“Jungkook can sleep through anything.” Namjoon shook his head. 

“I believe you.” You laughed. The others weren’t injured as much but you still checked their old injuries.

“Come closer, Tae.” You chuckled, grabbing the wheeled chair he was on and pulling him closer to you. Even after the incident, when you spoke to him and assured him you were fine, he was still a little shy around you.

“Is Jungkook okay?” He asked.

“Yes, he lives to see tomorrow. He’s just sleeping now.” You smiled, flipping his hands over to see his palms. 

“The blisters are almost gone. That’s good.” You told him. He nodded his head. After you applied a new layer of cream over them, you checked Hoseok’s head injury. The wound had also healed well and Hoseok didn’t feel any after effects from the concussion anymore.

“All of you are cleared.” You waved them off. As they left the room, you ran your fingers through Jungkook’s hair softly. 

You let out a soft sigh. Jungkook had woken up a while ago and you escorted him to his room to shower and rest some more. You trusted him to be able to shower without wetting his gauze or causing the wound to bleed again. 

“I-I didn’t know anyone was here. I’ll leave.” A voice said. 

“It’s okay. You can stay.” You smiled softly, patting the empty space beside you. Taehyung gave you an uneasy look but stepped forward, taking a seat. 

“I...I heard what Jungkook said.” 

“What did he say?” You tilted your head.

“About how he didn’t want you to be scared of him like you are of me.” Taehyung murmured, keeping his head low. He fiddled with his fingers in his lap. You sighed, rubbing your forehead. For people in the mafia, these boys sure acted like little kids at times. It was quite funny how they could kill people without a blink of the eye but were scared of hurting your feelings.

“Tae, we talked about this. I’m not scared of you, I don’t hate you. I told that to Jungkook as well.” You said. 

“Why?” 

“What do you mean, why?”

“I-I’m a monster! I hurt people, sometimes I can’t even stop myself that I need Namjoon hyung to tell me to stop. I can’t control it. I...I’m just like him.” He whispered the last part. 

“Who is ‘him’, Tae? Do you mean Namjoon?” You asked softly. 

“No! No! Never Namjoon hyung! I...I was referring to my father. My mother left us when I was born so I never really saw her face, only in photos. My father used to get drunk and fly into a rage. That led to my noona and I getting beaten up.” Taehyung frowned slightly. 

“I didn’t know you have a sister.” 

“Had... I couldn’t save her. I-I was too late.” Taehyung’s voice quivered and his breathing sounded strained. 

“She would always protect me from getting beaten. When I came home from school... I saw him, standing over her. She wouldn’t respond when I called out to her.” Tears fell from his eyes. 

“I was so angry, I didn’t even know what to do. But I knew there was only one thing I could do. I grabbed one of his soju bottles and just kept on hitting him with it. There was so much blood... And yet, I wasn’t even satisfied. I wanted him to feel the pain that he caused my noona and I for all those years. He took my noona away from me.” Taehyung shook with anger.

“Tae... Shh, it’s okay.” You hugged him, he cried into your chest, fisting your cardigan in his hands. 

“Noona.” He cried. 

“What happened after all that?” You asked softly.

“I called Namjoon hyung. He came and helped me. He brought me into the family, made sure the police never found out what happened and helped my noona have a nice burial.” Taehyung pulled away and wiped his tears. 

“You’re not like your father, Tae.” You said. 

“Aren’t I? I hurt people like him.” Taehyung pulled away and let out a bitter laugh amidst the tears that he shed. 

“It’s different, Tae... I know for one, you love your family here and that you would never hurt them. Just like your sister, you would protect them.” You stroked the back of his head. 

“My noona probably blames me for being too late.” He mumbled.

“Of course not, Tae. She loved you and protected you from harm. She wouldn’t blame you for what happened. It was beyond your control.” You comforted him. Taehyung nodded his head sadly. You were glad to be able to finally understand Taehyung a little more. 

“Everything now, I owe it to Namjoon hyung. He took me in, I wouldn’t be here if it weren’t for him.” Taehyung said. 

“He’s that much of a leader.” You said and Taehyung nodded in agreement. From the time you’ve been with the family, you already knew just how much the boys respected Namjoon.

“There’s no one else more fitting of the role.” Taehyung insisted.

After that, you separated with Taehyung. He went to his room while you stayed in the living room for a while longer. You spotted Namjoon sitting at the bar, sipping some wine as he flipped through some files. You slid onto the chair next to him. 

“Taehyung spoke to you?” He asked, not looking up. You let out a hum. 

“He told you... everything?” 

“If you’re referring to his family background, his father and older sister... Then yes, he did tell me everything.” You grabbed a beer from behind the counter for yourself and popped off the cap. 

“Did he tell you why he comes to your office after he hurts or kills someone at work?” Namjoon continued his questions. 

“No...?” 

“Coming to you after he hurts or even kills someone... gives him an assurance. The fact that you didn’t kick him out and welcome him every time, it tells him that he’s not like his father, not a monster like him. You remind him of his sister, caring for him and protecting him no matter what he does.” Namjoon explained. You nodded your head, finally understanding. 

“I’m glad Taehyung can turn to you as well. It took him a while to open up to the others besides me. Now he’s best friends with Jimin.” He smiled. 

“Why did you... help him?”

“The police would have gotten to him if he stayed. Besides, his noona was always nice to me. I didn’t grow up with much money, she gave me a lot of foods for free when she worked at the convenience store.” He said. 

“Jimin said you and Yoongi were the ones who started or formed this family. That you took everyone in.” You blinked. 

“I only took Jungkook and Taehyung in.” Namjoon clarified. 

“I’m sure Jimin also told you that everyone has their own story as to how they joined. But I would say, Taehyung’s background is the most... for the lack of a better word, ‘tragic’.” He sighed. 

“I lost of a lot of things growing up. Meeting Yoongi hyung and then the rest, starting this thing... saved me from a lifetime of hardship. I wouldn’t want to go back to how I used to live my life back then.” Namjoon chuckled. You nodded your head. 

“Life was very different back then?” 

“You could say that... I was born into this kind of environment. My dad trained me to take over his empire some day. I had to learn to take care of the family and organisation right from the start.” He explained. 

“Responsible right from the start, I see.” You gave a small smile. Seeing how successful the boys were now, it would be hard to imagine that they came from backgrounds of such poverty. 

“Taehyung was there for me when I lost my own sister. Just that his was his older sister while mine was my younger sister.” Namjoon said with a forced smile. 

“How did she pass?” 

“A fun night led to her being pregnant. She insisted on keeping the child. I tried my best to keep her safe and protect her, as well as the child. She was supposed to have a little girl. But she was too young, the delivery was much more complicated than we expected. They couldn’t save both her and her baby.” There was so much bitterness in Namjoon’s voice. 

“I’m sorry, Namjoon. That must have been hard, to lose both mother and baby.” You squeezed his hand. 

“I came to terms with it. We knew how risky it was for her to bring a baby into this world at her age but it was a risk she was willing to take. She was going to be named Namseo.” Namjoon sighed again. 

“That’s pretty.” You turned the now empty glass bottle in your hands. 

“What about you?” He asked. You tilted your head, pointing at yourself. Namjoon nodded in confirmation.

“You’ve met my parents. That’s it.”

“And somehow, I don’t believe you.” Namjoon chuckled.

“Ah, someone has been learning to read people too. I’m impressed Namjoon. But really, you already know. Mum’s a surgeon, dad’s a psychiatrist, both are seniors and respected in their fields. So they want their kids to do the same. As simple as that.” You shrugged.

“Kids? So the lone ranger isn’t alone after all?”

“I have an older brother. But you don’t ever see him, he’s too busy being a model child for parents out there.” You smiled.

“Oh? Is that a little jealousy that I sense?” Namjoon teased you, nudging your side gently. He stood up, walking behind the bar this time. He opened a bottle of wine and poured you a glass.

“I’m way over the jealousy.” You rolled your eyes.

“Tell me about him. Your brother and his perfect life.” Namjoon raised his eyebrows, sitting back down with his glass in his hands.

“You’ve probably heard of him, famous lawyer, (y/b/n) (y/l/n). He mainly practices in the UK but gets invited to the States and Australia. My sister-in-law, Jumin, and my nephew, Jisung, currently reside with him in the UK. And I have another niece on the way. The perfect son makes the perfect family, I guess.” You snorted, drinking your wine.

“So your brother left you behind. To face your parents’ expectations.” Namjoon chuckled.

“Doesn’t matter, from some age, I understood that all my parents need is one star child. I’m happy where I am now, why do you think they’re still trying to get me to join hospitals? Until this day.” You giggled.

“Yes, your father did express his... displeasure. But I think you’re fine here, (y/n). There’s no one else worthy.”

“Wow? A compliment?” It was your turn to tease him now.

“I give out compliments and praise where I deem necessary. Just as any parents or superior should. If it makes you work harder, I’ll do it more often.” Namjoon and you were having a full on laugh session now.

“Alright, enough family stories for the night. I’ll walk you to your room.” Namjoon stood up from his seat, stacking his papers together. 

“Thanks.” You absentmindedly followed him. The walk up was nice and quiet. The hallways were only lit by slightly dimmed lights but the moonlight shone through the big windows.

“You seem to be adjusting here well. Proving everyone else wrong.” 

“I would like to think so. Or even if I’m not there yet, I guess it’s safe to say that I am close to getting there at least.” You chuckled. The both of you stopped outside your door. Namjoon turned to you, patting your head with a soft smile. You looked up at him, blinking. 

“Rest well, doc.” Namjoon smiled. 

“Thanks, Namjoon. Goodnight.” You returned the gestured before you entered your room. 

--

Somehow in the middle of the night, you moved to lie down in front of Kookie’s cage. Kookie was curled up into a fluffy ball, sleeping soundly in the corner while you just laid in front of his cage. 

“Doc? Do you not like your bed?” Someone asked, startling you awake. 

“Huh? I don’t even remember when I got here.” You scratched the back of your head, yawning and stretching. Jin laughed, holding a hand out for you to help you stand up. You thanked him with a lazy salute before going into your bathroom to wash up. You brushed your teeth, washed your face and changed into more presentable clothes. 

“Can you wake Jungkook, please? You’re probably the only one that can.” Namjoon chuckled and you nodded, heading to the maknae’s room.

*KNOCK KNOCK*

“Jungkook?” You knocked and went in. Jungkook was sleeping shirtless, his bandages exposed. There was a little blood showing through the gauze, a sign that it should be changed. 

“Jungkook, wake up.” You shook him. Of course, he didn’t even move an inch or flinch. 

“Jungkook! Come on, they need you downstairs.” You grabbed his arm, pulling him out of bed, making sure to not impact his injuries. Jungkook finally groaned and sat up on the ground but was quick to fall back asleep. 

“Come on, Jungkook.” You cupped his cheeks. 

“No... Sleepy...” He fell forward, resting his head against your shoulder. You sighed, patting his bare shoulder. Suddenly, a tattooed arm wrapped around your waist and pulled you down to the ground. Jungkook snuggled against you, letting out a sound of satisfaction. 

“Jungkook? Doc?” The door opened and you heard Hoseok’s voice. You let out a strangled sound, pushing Jungkook by his chest. 

“W-What is going on?” Hoseok shouted. 

“This pervert!” You kicked Jungkook’s shin, making him groan and release you. You huffed in annoyance as you stood up, straighteneing your clothes. Casting Jungkook a dirty look, you walked to the door. 

“You can just sleep and die, Jeon Jungkook!” You scowled, storming out and slamming the door behind you. 

“Unsuccessful?” Yoongi smirked. 

“Can it, Yoongles.” You glared, sitting down in your seat. Hoseok emerged a few minutes later, dragging a half asleep Jungkook with him. Breakfast was served and for the first time in a few days, all the boys were there. Taehyung didn’t really want to make eye contact with you, feeling a little awkward from opening up last night. 

“Wanna go for a drive later?” Jin asked. 

“And watch you guys decide which pair of shoes is more expensive? No, thanks.” You snorted. 

“No, I’ve got to handle work stuff. It’ll be good to know that you are there in case it gets messy.” He grinned. You rested your head in your hand, thinking of whether you would like to go. 

“Your precious Yoongles is going.” Jimin added. 

“Yah! Park Jimin!” Yoongi slammed his hand onto the table. You giggled and gave a thumbs up to Jin, who shook his head with a chuckle. 

“I’ll go keep Yoongo company then.” You grinned. Yoongi scoffed and rolled his eyes. That was a much better reaction than what Jimin got from him when he called him by his nickname. You finished your breakfast and went to feed Kookie before getting ready to head out. 

“Let’s go.” You decided to keep your lab coat on since you were still ‘working’, even if you were out with them. 

“Are you ready to-”

“Jin oppa!” A shrill voice sounded throughout the mansion. You blinked in confusion as Jungkook pulled you behind him in an attempt to hide you. Peeking from over his shoulder, you saw a girl run in. 

“Shiori.” Jin remained stoic. 

“I haven’t seen you at the club in forever.” This girl smiled. 

“I’ve been busy, clubbing is not on the list of my occupations. Also, I am sure that you know unexpected visits to the house are not allowed.” Jin frowned. The girl dared to wrap her arm around Jin, making you gasp as how scandalous it was. This reminded you of how that girl was with Jungkook, which led to Kookie being adopted. 

“W-Who is she?” Shiori pointed to you. 

“S-She’s my-”

“She’s my partner.” Jin cut Jungkook off, stealing you and slinging his arm around you neck. 

“P-Partner?!” Shiori screeched. You sighed and removed Jin’s arm, turning to Jungkook, who was leaning against the backing of the couch, arms crossed in amusement. Yoongi came down, dressed in outing clothes. 

“Oh, she’s here.” He rolled his eyes. 

“Let’s go! Yoonie!” You cheered, hooking arms with Yoongi. He scoffed but didn’t pull away from you. 

“You. No vigorous activities, work outs or beating people up today. I’ll be back to change your dressing. If I find out you disobeyed me, you’ll get it.” You threatened Jungkook, who gulped and nodded. You patted his head like a child and headed out with Yoongi. 

“I’m coming.” Jin stepped forward to join you and Yoongi. 

“You can show yourself out. And don’t you dare, come on this property again.” Jin threatened the girl, who nodded fearfully. 

~~

Ko-fi link

Series Masterlist

Tag list (Bold users couldn’t be tagged)

@veronawrites​ @diamonddia-mond​ @georgie-me-myself-i​ @saveme-imfine​ @openup-yourmind​ @purelyecstacy​ @nlost21​ @yiyi4657​ @kimmieloveswho​ @i-like-puppy-mg​ @cait-with-luv​ @s-tae-rrynight​ @supertweetycherry  @carolinexkpop @unatempesta-dipensieri​ @telepathylftv​ @taradevonne​ @top-crop​ @ifellinluvwithdorks​ @lovvliies​ @bt21chim​ @kpopiskpopyunho​ @egm09 @designjet​ @lasagnaisjustspaghetticake​ @3musez​ @bangtansleftnut​ @deeepvibes​ @barbikatherine​ @xxminilah​ @missmxqn​ @kimahnjung98​ @jbunnys-world​ @itspwi @gold--gucciempress​ @rainbow-zebra-unicorns​ @sinceritythatcouldntbedelivered​ @holaaaf​ @aconfusedidentity @samararose21​ @shondlenoodle​ @singhsahara @scuzmunkie​ @mellownatureanimalsdreamer @fenderbenderr​ @uraveragefangirlsposts​ @jikook-enthusiasts​ @wendyiiwl​ @amyniu​ @bipolargal @vivpurple7​ @mintvender​ @xcharlottemikaelsonx​ @enchantingbrowneyedgirl @imyourapocalypse​ @yeotlny​ @queenofthe-bitches @rosesolitaire​ @nello-rie @thatonepotatogurl @beach-bitch-bitch-beach​ @blauuu-adl​ @chickencrimpy​ @purplelady85​ @blglmgk01​ @nochujeonjk​ @kevinssecretplace4546​ @growlingyu​ @gimmythatjibOOty @missseoulite​

#kpop #kpop scenarios #kpop series #bts #bts scenarios #bts series #bts x reader #bts x y/n #poly!bts #bts poly #poly!bts x reader #poly bts #mafia #bts mafia au #bts mafia #bts mafia series #mafia au #mafia bts #mafia!au #mafia!bts #ot7 #ot7 x reader #ot7 bts #bts ot7

[imaginethathaikyuu]

kinktober - day three

kuroo tetsurou - aphrodisiacs 

kinktober faq  kinktober prompt list  

NSFW warning featuring: the accidental consumption of an aphrodisiac, kuroo with an undying need for U, multiple orgasms, dirty talk, unprotected sex, begging other tags: scientist! kuroo!, me not knowing shit about science or working in a science lab or aphrodisiacs, me not knowing shit about anything, this isn’t realistic at all just look over it, can aphrodisiacs be inhaled? who knows, established relationship, cursing  gender neutral reader

word count: 2050

-

Kuroo made a mistake. 

He was careful, like he always is. He strictly follows the rules of his workspace because he knows it’s otherwise unsafe; working in a science lab can be dangerous. 

He was only preparing a sample, something he’s done dozens of times. They had just started a new project on chemical aphrodisiac studies, something he wasn’t excited about, but it didn’t matter to him - he was just doing his job, even if he does think this experiment will be a bust. And maybe he shouldn’t have been holding the bottle this aphrodisiac was stored in and just left it to sit on the counter to avoid a mishap - then again, maybe it shouldn’t have been stored in a glass bottle in the first place.

So, really, it’s not his fault.

The phone across the room rang out of nowhere, and for some reason, it terrified him. He was jump scared by a telephone ringing, and the glass slipped out of his hand and onto the pristine counter top, shattering across the surface which was immediately covered in the crimson liquid. 

The first thing Kuroo noticed was how sweet the substance smelled. He remembers one of his lab partners telling him, at the beginning of this study, about the claims of this fluid; apparently the pheromones inside are strong enough to send anyone into a sexual hunger like no other. Just one smell is enough to do the trick. That was the point of this study, to determine if it was true and if so, how true, but Kuroo wasn’t supposed to be the test subject. 

It didn’t really matter, though. He laughed it off. 

Aphrodisiac studies are all bullshit, anyway, and have always been a waste of time and money. 

He left the room to tell his coworkers of the accident and to ensure the proper way to clean up his mess. But he didn’t think he’d be sent home immediately. 

The wide eyes of his peers made him laugh - it’s not like he started a fire or ingested a poisonous substance. He only got one good whiff of the stuff, so he really didn’t think it was a big deal. But, to them, it was a huge deal, so he made his way home knowing that nothing would happen. 

Aphrodisiacs are bullshit. 

On his drive home, he decided he’d give you a call and tell you all about it - he needed someone to laugh at this situation with him. 

Sure enough, you did. “Of course you’re the one who inhales the powerful aphrodisiac before the experiment even gets started.” 

“Yeah, yeah, I can be clumsy, I get it. Just be ready for me to be ferociously horny when I get home, babe.” 

“Oh, I’ll be ready,” you laughed. “I’ll be here in my bathrobe with a face mask on - you won’t be able to resist me.” 

“Come on, you already know I think you’re sexy at all times of the day. Even first thing in the morning - hold on, it’s three pm and you’re already getting ready for bed?” 

“It’s already been a long day!” you argued. “We can have a spa day when you get home.” 

“That sounds nice - I’m down.” 

The conversation took his mind off of his earlier mistake, and when he got home, he had completely forgotten about it. He had his spa day, the two of you had dinner, you fell asleep on his shoulder while watching a movie on the couch - it was a typical day, save for his early arrival home. 

Nothing had changed, and Tetsurou noticed no side effects. 

Until he woke up in the middle of the night. 

There was this pressure in his head, a throbbing that wouldn’t go away. His heart was pounding and it was all he could hear. His arms felt tense, his entire body felt stiff, he was drenched in sweat. 

And he was holding onto you tight - he must have pulled you against him in his sleep and locked his arms around you. He’s definitely never been one to cling to you while he sleeps, so it felt a little too close for comfort.

Then, suddenly, he felt like he had run into a brick wall. His blood was rushing, he felt dizzy for seemingly no reason, and that’s when it all started. 

“Shit,” he cursed, pulling away from you and rolling onto his back. He didn’t feel good, and not touching you made him feel weak. “Oh, fuck.” 

That’s when he remembered what happened today at work. 

But there was no way that was the reason for this - aphrodisiacs are bullshit - this couldn’t be caused by inhaling that fake love drug. 

He needed to calm down, to get out of his head. It was all a placebo effect, and if he can just calm down, he can go back to sleep and he’ll wake up fine. 

“Tetsu?” 

The sound of your voice made him jump, and the look of your cute tired face made everything worse. 

“What’s wrong, baby?” 

“Nothing, nothing,” he replied, already feeling guilty at the sound of your worried tone. “It’s nothing, babe, go back to sleep.” 

You were already sitting up, though, and you had already turned the bedside lamp on. 

“Are you alright?” And your hand was on his cheek before he could see it coming, before he could tell you not to worry. “You’re burning.” 

“I feel like I am,” he said. Everything was hot and amplified and overwhelming, and the only thing that seemed to help was your touch - but at the same time, it was making it worse. “Fuck.” 

“I’m going to go get you some water,” you said, but before your feet could hit the floor Tetsurou was pulling you back into bed. 

“No, don’t - don’t leave.” It was like something was taking over him. He didn’t feel like himself, but he didn’t care. The thought of you going anywhere else was something he just couldn’t handle - even if it was in the next room, it was still too far away. “Come here.” 

He pulled you closer and closer until your lips were on his, and just one kiss made him feel like he needed to completely devour you. 

That was it. That’s what was wrong with him. He needed you - that was the problem. 

“I need you,” he moaned, rolling on top of you. “Let me have you.” 

“Tetsu, it’s the middle of the night.” 

“Please,” he begged, whining into your neck. He didn’t realize how hard he was until he started grinding against your hip, and what was usually pleasurable friction was now nothing but painful teasing. “Fuck, it hurts, kitten. Please, I need you - make it stop, make me feel better.” 

You’d never seen him like this. You’d never heard him whining or begging for you - you couldn’t deny how much it turned you on, even if it was the middle of the night. 

“Do you still think aphrodisiacs are bullshit?” you asked him with a laugh, but it was like he couldn’t even hear you. He didn’t reply, didn’t laugh, didn’t stop moving his hips. All he could do was beg for you, and it made it obvious that you were going to have to take the reigns. 

“Okay, Tetsurou,” you breathed, pushing him off of you so you could look at him. “Let’s get your shirt off, baby.” 

You pulled his shirt off as he tugged his underwear down, all while his begging continued. 

His entire body felt hot. You were sure he was running a fever and that this isn’t what he needed to be doing - he would probably benefit more from a cold shower - but you knew he wouldn’t listen to you if you told him that. 

“Tetsu, are you sure you don’t need some water?” 

“No,” he insisted. “I just need to fuck you. Need to be inside of you, need to cum in you - please, baby. You’re all I can think about - I just want you.” 

If he says you’re the only thing he needs, then what else can you do but give yourself to him? You’re the only one who can help him through this, so you have to give him what he needs. 

“Okay,” you replied, “fuck me, Tetsurou.” 

That’s all he needed to hear - he felt like he was waiting years to hear that consent, and now that he knew you wanted him too, he had no patience left. 

He pulled your underwear off and you’re sure you heard it ripping, but you didn’t even care. Neither did he. He couldn’t wait, if he waited even a second longer he would scream, but the moment he finally sunk into you he felt like doing just that. 

“Oh, holy fuck, that’s tight,” he moaned; he was completely lost in you. 

He was already close. He had been teetering the edge from the moment he woke up, he just didn’t realize it until there was something to push him over. It’s like he was just about to cum, after hours of being brought to the brink, but had no way of getting that release. 

His hips moved as if he had no way of controlling them. It was hard, fast, and rough, and you found yourself loving it. You were basking in his unharbored need for you, needing him just as much, wanting him to go even further. 

Tetsurou didn’t even last a minute, but it didn’t matter - he fucked you through it and didn’t stop. He hardly even felt it. Cumming didn’t take his pain or need for you away, it only amplified it. 

But for the first time that night, it actually felt like he was there. He could control his movements; he could open his eyes and see what he was doing; he could take a deep breath without feeling his head spin. 

His hips slowed down so he could wrap his arm underneath your leg, pulling your body into a new position that helped you feel as good as he did. 

“Fuck, kitten,” he cursed, watching as his cock dipped in and out of you. “You’re all I need - you’re so good, too good. Taking my cock so well, being so good for me. No one else can make me feel like this - only you.” 

“Tetsurou, fuck!”  

“That’s it,” he said with a wide smirk, “scream for me, kitten. I want everyone to know who’s fucking you so well - come on, do it, scream my name.” 

With how good he was making you feel it was impossible not to reward him with what he wanted, and you were so close to finishing that you didn’t care about any embarrassment moaning so loud would lead to. 

The louder you were, the faster he pounded into you. Little time passed before you were milking his cock for everything he had, cumming so hard on him that he had no control over his own orgasm. 

And it was everything he needed. He was seeing stars, floating through space, completely weightless, all because of you; you were everything he needed. He’d never felt so much relief. 

“Fuck,” he cursed, “holy shit.” 

You were catching your breath, while Kuroo felt like he was breathing for the first time in his life. Now, the only thing he needed was air in his lungs; he was exhausted and sensitive and, finally, back on earth. 

“Are you okay?” 

“I am now. Holy shit. Are you okay?” 

You laughed, “Yeah, babe,” but he looked over your body just to be sure. 

“What time even is it?” he asked. You shrugged. “I don’t know what came over me - I’ve never needed to fuck you that badly.” 

“I liked it,” you told him. “Your begging was hot. You should bring some of that chemical aphrodisiac bullshit home, babe.” 

“Oh, fuck off,” he scoffed as he was cleaning both of you up. “That is not the cause of this.” 

“You just can’t stand to be wrong, can you?” 

“I’m not wrong!” he insisted, but Kuroo knew he was lying through his teeth. 

Aphrodisiacs are, in fact, not bullshit, but he’d never admit it - not even for the sake of science. 

But, maybe, the two of you would have to do some more experimenting of your own. 

-

tune in tomorrow for kinktober day 4: in public 

#kinktober 2020 #not family friendly #kuroo tetsurou #kuroo tetsurou x reader #kuroo x reader #haikyuu imagines #haikyuu x reader

[elentiyawhitethorn]

When Passion Rules the Game | Part Seven

CW: NSFW, language

AN: Wow, I wrote seven chapters in seven days and I feel so accomplished! This fic has been so fun to write, and I hope everybody enjoyed. (Last chapter btw)

Part Six//Masterlist//2835 words

By some miracle, Aelin made it through the rest of the day. She introduced herself to Nox, showed him the ropes, and got some work done. And as soon as she had completed the day’s tasks, she just about bolted out to her car, headed to Rowan’s apartment.

There was no hesitation in Aelin’s mind as she firmly knocked on Rowan’s door. He would let her in, explain, and she would realize that this was all some cosmic joke.

Aelin heard footsteps approach the door, and she braced herself, straightening her back and plastering a smile on her face.

But the door never opened. After a moment, Aelin heard the footsteps retreat, and she blinked in confusion.

She knocked again.

Another minute passed. No more noises sounded within the apartment, and Aelin started to scowl. What right did he have to ignore her? She was his boss! Well, not anymore—but that was beside the point.

Aelin reached for the handle and jiggled it, but it was locked.

“Rowan,” she called. “Please let me in.”

“Dammit, go away, Aelin.”

She hadn’t been expecting a response, and to hear that animosity toward her frightened her. Rowan must have quit because she was sleeping with him, and he wasn’t comfortable with the situation. Aelin had never done anything like this before, never unintentionally harassed someone out of their job, and her heart started aching. This wasn’t how it was supposed to go.

Coming to terms with the fact that Rowan wasn’t going to let her in the door, Aelin pulled a bobby-pin from her hair and inserted it into the lock. She had been a rambunctious teenager, always causing poor Aedion and her parents trouble, and picking a lock was second nature to her.

She smiled internally as the last tumbler fell into place and the lock clicked. Aelin absentmindedly discard the bobby pin in her purse and turned the knob.

Rowan was sitting on the couch, hunched over with his head in his hands, clearly upset about something. His head snapped up the instant Aelin walked in, and his eyes narrowed. “How did you—”

Aelin shut the door, cutting him off. “Why did you quit.” She was slightly angry at herself, and it came out in her tone.

Rowan sighed. “I resigned.”

“Same difference. Tell me why.”

Rowan stood up, but still kept his distance. “I found a new job. I thought it would be a better opportunity for me.”

Aelin scoffed. “You were just relocated to Terrasen. Don’t tell me you’re moving again.”

“I’m not moving. I got a job at Salvaterre Enterprises. It pays more.”

“If you wanted a raise, I—”

“I left. It’s done. There is nothing to say.”

Aelin frowned, trying to cover up the fact that her heart was fracturing in her chest. “But—”

“Do you always break into the homes of employees who decide they don’t want to work for you anymore?”

The ice in Rowan’s voice had Aelin trembling. “I want to know if you’re leaving because of me.”

“Why would I do that?”

“Because you’re sleeping with me!” Aelin yelled. “And you’re quitting because you’re worried about it or you’re not comfortable with it or something and I can’t just let you do that! I can’t just sexually harass one of my employees and let them leave.”

Rowan’s eyes widened. “You’re not… Aelin, this is not your fault.”

“Then what is this?” she rasped. “Why did you even apply at Salvaterre Enterprises anyway?”

She could see the hesitation in his eyes. Rowan took a step forward, then paused. “I can’t… I just needed to go. I’ve never been uncomfortable around you, Aelin, I swear.”

“Then why, Rowan, did you go? Because I’m going to keep believing this is my fault if you don’t prove otherwise.”

He hissed out a breath and turned around, running his hands through his hair. “It’s because I…”

“Because you what?”

“I can’t… I shouldn’t say.”

“Tell me,” Aelin’s demanded. She dropped her purse on the floor so that she could cross her arms.

“Because I’m in love with you!” Rowan shouted, spinning back around. “Because I love how passionate you are about your work, and how funny you are, and how you pretend to have an attitude but spend your whole life trying to help people. I love the way you tuck your hair behind your ears when you’re nervous, and how red your face gets when you’re embarrassed, and I even love the way you eat your gods-damn bagels with a fork. And I can’t do it anymore!”

Aelin couldn’t summon words. Rowan loved her?

He was breathing hard, surprise evident on his face. Maybe he hadn’t meant to say all that.

“I think you should go, Aelin. Don’t feel bad. You’re not to blame.” Rowan sighed, turning his head.

He expected her to leave. To walk out and pretend this had never happened, to forget about him. Aelin didn’t know what she was going to do next, but she sure as hell wasn’t going to forget about him.

Rowan took a deep breath, then looked back at Aelin, who wasn’t breathing at all. “I’m sorry, Aelin. But I need you to leave now.”

Aelin didn’t do that.

Rowan gasped in surprise as he felt Aelin’s lips crash into his. She had mindlessly surged forward with no intentions of stopping herself. Aelin fisted her hands in his shirt and pulled him closer, tangling her tongue with his. Rowan kissed her back for what could have been a minute or an hour; Aelin was too lost in him to tell. When he finally pulled back, they were both panting.

“What does that mean?” Rowan gasped out.

“I think I might be in love with you, too.”

Rowan yanked her back to his mouth, and Aelin felt herself melting into his touch, trying to get closer and closer, touching as much of his body as she could.

They parted again, and Rowan raised his hand to her face. “You really feel the same?” His thumb stroked her cheek and Aelin leaned into the touch.

“Of course I do. You’re amazing and kind and hilarious, and despite your protests to the contrary, you’re a total sweetheart. I love you, Rowan. I should have noticed it a lot sooner, and I must have been blind not to until now, but I see it now. I love you.”

Rowan leaned forward and pressed their foreheads together. “I love you, too. I’ve never felt like this before. I’ve cared about people, but no one has ever driven me so insane.”

Aelin laughed. “I drive you insane? I have never broken so many rules because of one man. And that’s really saying something.”

“Oh, I know,” he replied, their noses brushing. “No goody two shoes knows how to pick locks.”

“Don’t ask me about that,” Aelin said, laughing. “Or I’ll ask you why you have a picture of a scowling teenage boy with chains dangling from his jeans hanging up on the wall.”

Rowan groaned. “My mom made me hang that up when I moved in.”

“Oh, you’re a mama’s boy, then?” Aelin teased.

Rowan smiled, but the expression turned fond as he leaned forward that last half-inch and kissed her. It was nothing like any of the kisses they’d shared before; this one was soft and sweet. This one was full of love.

When they pulled apart this time, Aelin whispered, “I still can’t believe you love me.”

“Neither can I,” he replied softly. “I never expected you to say it back. Though I’ll admit, I wasn’t surprised to find you stubbornly knocking on my door.”

Aelin smiled, then tugged Rowan down to the couch, plumping onto his lap. “So now that we’ve gotten the love confessions out of the way, maybe we can try to be in a relationship? Be together?”

Rowan smiled. “I would love that. But I might have to dump you if you ever call me a sweetheart again.”

Aelin let out a choked laugh. “But you’re so sweet. Like a little cinnamon bun.”

“I really hope you did not just say that.”

Aelin grinned. “Now that we have all this sorted, you’ll come back to the company? Nox was good at the job, but he doesn’t have your work ethic, and I had to tell him how to—”

Rowan smiled sadly and interrupted her. “Babe, you would be my boss. We may be able to keep a lid on friends with benefits, but you think no one’s going to be upset to hear you’re in a relationship with me?”

“I don’t care what people think,” Aelin insisted, despite the sinking feeling in her gut.

He tugged her farther onto his lap and wrapped his arms around her. “It’s still wrong. I can’t do it.”

“But… Rowan, you can’t give up your job for me.”

“I’m not. And if it came down to it, I probably wouldn’t. And neither would you, I would guess, should you ever be in that position. Your dedication to your career is one of the things I love about you.” At Aelin’s sad nod, he added, “But I got job with Salvaterre Enterprises, remember?”

Aelin rasied her brow.

“I wasn’t lying,” Rowan said with a grin. “I got a good position there, nothing worse than I had with you. I’ll miss working with you, but I’m excited to be working there, and I’m excited to be with you.”

Aelin bit her lip. “Okay, but I don’t care that you already got hired. I’m sending a recommendation for you. Not just because I love you—never because of that—but because you are an amazing worker. Besides, I know Lorcan.”

Rowan blinked in surprise. “Lorcan Salvaterre?”

Aelin flashed a grin. “We went to college together. Like you, he pretends to be an ass, but is super sweet.” Rowan scowled, and she laughed. “And he’s head-over-heels for Elide. I’ve been trying to set them up for ages.”

“Wow,” Rowan said.

“Underestimating my connections?” Aelin asked snarkily.

“Just shocked that you have friends with money. After all, you just about swiped my savings last time we played poker.”

Aelin smirked. “Lorcan always paid up in other ways.”

“I really hope you didn’t just imply…” Rowan trailed off.

“Imply what?” Aelin asked innocently.

“Did you sleep with my new boss?” Rowan asked, dreading the answer.

She laughed. “No, I was just kidding. I made him do my homework for a month every time he lost.”

Rowan breathed a sigh of relief. “I’ll admit, I’m surprised you would trust someone to control what grade you get.”

Aelin snorted. “Oh, I wouldn’t. I turned in my own work. I just wanted to make him do it for the fun of it. He went ballistic when he found out I never turned any of his hours’ worth of work in. He’s been trying to get me back for it ever since.”

“Um, perhaps I won’t tell him I’m in a relationship with you, then?”

Aelin cackled.

After another hour of chatting and laughing, Aelin decided she would tell her cousin and friends about this tomorrow, and Rowan said he would do the same by calling his mom. She could barely contain the joy that flowed through her thinking that people would know about them, that he cared about her enough to tell his mother already.

The hand that Rowan had resting on her thigh started stroking her, and Aelin started trying to recall what underwear she had put on his morning. Hopefully something nice.

Aelin ground down on Rowan’s lap, and he stood in one sudden movement, pulling her legs around his waist. Aelin sighed against his neck as he carried her to the bedroom. It sure as hell wasn’t the first time she’d been in here, and it wouldn’t be the last.

Aelin smiled into Rowan’s shirt, but that smile dissolved when Rowan threw her onto the bed. She smiled up at him prettily, the epitome of virtuous and wholesome. Rowan just snorted and said, “Take your clothes off and touch yourself.”

Feeling blood race to her face, Aelin sensually stripped off each piece of clothing, a bit more urgently than she’d been attempting to do. It was hard to act sexy when Rowan was shirtless and smirking at her.

Once she finished, Aelin lay back and spread her legs slightly. She let one hand tug on several strands of hair, delighting in the way Rowan’s eyes tracked her hands.

Then Aelin licked her lips and moved one hand to her stomach to stroke the smooth skin. She smirked at Rowan as she moved her other hand to her mouth and sucked on her thumb, making sure he was able to see as her tongue swirled around the digit. Aelin brought her wet thumb to her nipple and rubbed it roughly, parting her lips in a breathy moan.

She noticed the bulge in Rowan’s pants becoming more apparent as she played with her nipple and teased him with the hand moving on her lower stomach, and she grinned. “Get on with it,” Rowan growled.

Laughing, Aelin spread her legs farther and trailed her hand down, pressing a finger into her entrance. She immediately gasped and inserted another finger, unused to having control over when she got what she wanted.

Knowing exactly what she was thinking as she started thrusting her fingers harder, Rowan smirked and pulled his shirt off. No matter that seeing him watching her made her even wetter, Aelin couldn’t concentrate on what she was doing when she looked at him. She averted her eyes to ceiling and started pumping her fingers in deeper, groaning.

But it was not to be. “Look at me,” Rowan commanded, and Aelin had no choice but to obey.

Holding his gaze, Aelin thrust her hips into her hand and and brought the second hand down the rub furiously at her clit. She was moaning now, making more noises than she did when she was by herself, turned on by the way Rowan rid himself of his pants and started pumping his own length.

“Stop,” Rowan ordered, right as she felt release nearing. She couldn’t. She couldn’t stop. She was so close, and just few more thrusts and she would be at the edge and—

Aelin’s hands were forcibly removed from her pussy, and she cried out as she was flipped over on the bed and spanked.

“What did I tell you?” Rowan’s voice was the sharpened edge of a blade, and Aelin shivered.

“You told me to stop,” she whispered.

Rowan’s hand smacked her ass once more. “And did you?”

Aelin whimpered. “No, sir.”

He spanked her again, his hand stinging the sensation flesh of her bottom. “Why not?”

“Because,” Aelin rasped, trying to summon even a single coherent thought, “I needed to come. I needed to.”

“Hmm,” Rowan said, trailing his finger along the curve of her ass. She shivered at the sensation. “But you knew I wouldn’t let you. And look where we are now.”

Aelin squirmed in his grasp. “I’m sorry.”

“Are you?” He brought his hand down, the slap sound filling the air. “Or are you just saying that so I’ll stop?”

“I’m sorry. Please, I’m so sorry.” Aelin clung to the sheets, burying her face.

Rowan hummed thoughtfully and spanked her again. But before Aelin could beg him to stop again, callused hands gripped her thighs and spread them, Rowan’s cock filling her almost instantly.

Aelin moaned loudly into the sheets. “Rowan, gods.”

He grabbed her hips, pulling her onto her knees and farther onto his cock. She whined and lifted her ass higher in the air.

Rowan’s grip was bruising as he slammed into her. He started pounding into her, and Aelin wondered how she was supposed to walk into work tomorrow and concentrate on her job, let alone walk at all.

The fingers Rowan had on her hips dug harder into her skin, and Aelin felt even wetter knowing that he was marking her right now. His cock was hardening fully inside of Aelin, and the immense awareness she had of him was driving her crazy.

Rowan’s balls slapped her pussy and she screamed into the sheets, her orgasm forcing its way over her body in a shattering earthquake of pleasure. Rowan kept moving, fucking her senseless as she shook and screamed, finally coming and spilling into her.

Once he separated their bodies and rolled over, Aelin turned on her side and put both an arm and a leg across his body. “I love you.”

Rowan kissed her neck. “I love you, too, darling.”

Aelin snuggled closer and, instead of reflecting on her previous shortsightedness and poor judgment, thought about how much she was looking forward to a life being teased, laughed at, fucked, and loved by Rowan.

Little did Aelin know, Elide would owe Dorian twenty bucks after losing the bet about how long it would take them to confess their feelings. What an interesting day tomorrow would be.

———

Tag List:

@aelin-bitch-queen

@autumnbabylon

@evolving-dreamer

@feysand-loml

@flora-shadowshine

@gracie-rosee

@infernoqueen19

@julemmaes

@lemonade-coolattas

@live-the-fangirl-life

@midsizewitch

@mis-lil-red

@morganofthewildfire

@nehemikkele

@pagemasters

@realbookloverproblems

@rhysandswingspan

@rowanaelinn

@sexy-dumpster-fire

@sleeping-and-books

@story-scribbler

@swankii-art-teacher

@thenerdandfandoms

@theysayitscrazy

@yesdreamblog

#rowaelin #tog #when passion rules the game #my writing

[yourmidnightlover]

also.. fluff 10 and smut 5 maybe 😌

i’ve said it before and i’ll say it again: i LOVE fake dating.

fluff #10: fake dating

smut #5: first time (a classic)

CW: cursing, unprotected penetrative sex, fingering, oral (fem receiving), virgin!spencer, leaning towards dom!reader but not explicitly mentioned. *let me know if i’ve missed anhthing*

he needed something. something to make him seem less loser-y. he needed you.

spencer reid’s high school reunion was right around the corner. said high school reunion had all of the kids who would make fun of him, pick on him. the ones that stripped him naked on a pole. now he was 26 and in the bau for the fbi. he was successful. he made his mark. he saved lives.

but he still didn’t have a significant other. he didn’t have someone to come home to. he would have to go to his high school reunion with the knowledge that everyone was still more successful than him in the relationship aspect because he didn’t have that special someone.

“kid,” morgan intervened, “don’t let something like that make you not go to the reunion. you’re successful now. you’re pretty boy. that alone will rub it in their faces.”

“i know but everyone’s probably in a relationship now. they might even have kids and a wife or husband. i just... i want to seem like something to them,” he placed the lid on his coffee cup and began walking with morgan back to his desk.

“then ask someone to go with you. i know a little someone who wouldn’t mind posing as your girlfriend for a few nights,” morgan nudged his shoulder.

“morgan,” he rolled his eyes. “you know who i actually want to go with, which means you also know that she won’t want to go with me,” he finished explaining.

“y/n?” morgan whispered. “the girl who’s been fawning over you since she got here? the new liaison that’s been here for over a year that you still haven’t asked out?”

spencer turned his face to look at you through your office window. you were busy filing through cases, your head down in focus as you bit your lower lip while concentrating. your hair was crowding your face, obstructing the view of the beauty spencer has become mesmerized by.

“reeiidd,” morgan sang mockingly. “that just proves my theory. ask her out already.”

“i don’t want to ruin things, morgan,” he sighed as he sat down at his desk. “i wouldn’t even know how to ask her. i’ve barely kissed a girl, let alone ask one out.”

“you don’t have to ask her out, really,” he sat atop his desk. “just mention the situation and say she was the first person that came to mind, flatter her.”

“morgan, drop it,” spencer hissed as the bau filled a bit more.

“just ask her to go with you,” he said a bit louder.

“ask who to go where?” your voice rang through his ears, he liked up to see morgan smirking.

“uhm ask...” he ran his mind for another answer besides the truth.

“i know when you’re trying to come up with a lie, spence,” you chuckled.

“fine,” he sighed. “i wanted to ask if you’d mind going to my high school reunion with me?” he couldn’t meet your eyes.

“oh sure! that sounds fun,” you agreed. “why were you so nervous to ask?”

“well, you see,” he cleared his throat. “everyone in my class has a significant other and i just wanted to seem a bit less like a loser.”

“spencer you aren’t a loser,” you said sympathetically. “you save lives on a daily basis, you’re crazy smart, you have the sweetest personality, and you’re gorgeous. there’s nothing loser-y about you.”

“re-really?” he asked.

“of course, really,” you nodded, placing a hand on his shoulder. “and if you’d want me to pose as your girlfriend i’d be more than honored,” you added with a chuckle.

“thank you, y/n,” he smiled. “it-it means a lot to me.”

“of course. but for now,” you motioned to the files in your hand, “it’s case time.”

-

after a couple of months had passed, the reunion was finally upon the two of you. spencer had insisted on paying for your ticket to vegas because ‘he got you into this mess in the first place.’

you and spencer had to reserve one hotel room - courtesy of the school reunion. they just so happened to decide to allow the two of you to share one bed. it was reasonable, and cost efficient.

as the two of you entered the room, you were surprisingly caught off guard with not only the one bed in the room, but also with how nice the hotel room was. out on the balcony there was a jacuzzi that was covered by an awning. when you looked in the bathroom, there was a rather large tub and a separate shower adjacent to it.

“wow,” you awed. “this place is really nice.”

“i didn’t expect this,” he added. “i guess they saved the money from my actual high school years.”

you plopped down in the center of the bed, sighing as the soft mattress curved around your back, “i could really get used to this.”

“yea, me too,” he took the time to gawk at you as you seemed so peaceful, lying on the bed. “we uhm,” he cleared his throat, “we should probably start getting ready for tonight.”

“alright,” you groaned, slowly sitting up to prepare for the evening.

-

walking into his old high school, spencer felt a wave of nostalgia mixed with bile rising in his throat. this place was absolute hell for him. he was teased, ridiculed, practically tortured for being special.

“hey,” you squeezed his arm, which yours was wrapped around. “you’ve got this, spence. you aren’t the same defenseless kid you were back then,” you stopped him in the middle of the hallway and placed your hands on his shoulders, gently massaging them. “you are a successful adult with an amazing job and friends to support you. plus, you have a really hot girlfriend by your side,” you both chuckled at that.

“thank you,” he took a deep breath. “thank you for being here.”

“it’s my honor,” you placed your arm in the crook of his once more. “shall we?”

“we shall,” he smiled as you entered the gymnasium of his old high school.

spencer tried his best to avoid any glances or possible stares. it was nerve wracking, being here with his previous bullies. granted, with you by his side he was far less worried.

you had found a group of people he used to hang out with. he was never close with people in high school, but these kids at least didn’t make fun of him. they were all proud to see that the former child prodigy is now using his gifts for the betterment of their country. you had even seen his old math teacher that took a liking for him many years ago.

“spencer?” he heard a very familiar, chill-inducing voice. he looked up to see none other than her.

alexa lisbon.

“spencer,” she chuckled. “it’s me, alexa.”

he felt your grip on him tighten, reasonably so since you knew about what had happened.

“h-hi,” he stuttered out.

alexa wasn’t as beautiful as she was in high school. it’s true what they say about those who peek in high school, he presumes.

“how’ve you been? i heard you work for the fbi now?” she placed a hand on his shoulder, which he resisted swatting away.

“yup. the behavioral analysis unit,” he looked at you before wrapping his arm around your shoulder. “i actually met her there, at work.”

“...her? are you two...?” she retracted her hand from his shoulder as you curled into his chest.

luckily, you two had already worked out the kinks of your “relationship.” where you met, first date, how long, everything was figured out.

“yes. for six months now, actually,” he smiled and looked down at you. “it’s been an amazing time with her. i wouldn’t trade it for anything in the world. i love you.”

“i love you too, sweetie,” you gave him a chaste peck on the cheek, noticing his blush once you retreated.

“well, that’s... nice,” she almost grimaced as she gazed over you. “how did he manage to get a girl like you?”

“like me?” you asked for clarification.

“y’know... beautiful?” she lent in towards you as if spencer wouldn’t be able to hear what she had said.

“excuse you?” you scoffed.

“you heard me,” she rolled her eyes.

“no, i heard you. i was just wanting to give you the chance to realize how incredibly dumb you sounded, but apparently you truly are just that. dumb,” you placed a hand on spencer’s chest protectively. “this is one of the strongest, smartest, and most brave men i’ve ever met. he protects our country every day by using his own intelligence, something you clearly lack. so next time you ever think about insulting him or me, i suggest you ask yourself whether or not your even deserving of talking to him.”

“i-i just-“

“just nothing,” you interrupted. “how about you go and annoy someone else with your lack of brain cells?” and she walked away with a roll of her eyes.

“i can’t believe her,” you scoffed, turning around to look directly at spencer.

“you uhm, you didn’t have to stand up for me like that,” he whispered.

“i wanted to,” you wrapped your arms around his torso. “she’s a bitch and it seemed like nobody has ever put her in her place. i’m glad i got the honor to do so,” you gloated.

“i know. but thank you,” he sighed, briefly looking over his shoulder. “i think she’s still looking.”

“do you trust me?” you placed your hands on the side of his face, drawing his attention to only you.

“always,” he nodded as you got on your tip-toes, gently pulling his face into your own.

he placed his hands hesitantly on your waist, helping to hoist you up to meet his own lips. it was better than he’d imagined - and boy, did he imagine this. you were gentle, and delicate but provided the passion that spencer shared with you, pulling his bottom lip between your own and gently nibbling it. he let one of his hands trail up your body, going to the back of your head to deepen the kiss. at this point, he had forgotten all about alexa and the other students at the reunion. it was just you and him.

“can we-“ you whispered softly to him, your forehead pressed against his, “can we get out of here?”

“please,” he breathed out as you grabbed his hand, pulling him back through the doors of the gymnasium to exit.

-

as soon as you opened the room, you were on each other. you nearly tore his jacket off of him as he worked on the dress you had worn. he wanted to take his time, to relish in this moment while it lasted, but his own eagerness betrayed him. he was far too excited to be able to slow down.

his hands roamed your body, pawing at the soft tissue of your breasts over your bra as you moaned into his mouth.

“take it off,” you sighed, allowing him to reach behind you and unclasp the clothing.

“fuck,” he awed upon seeing your bare chest, you giggled at his eagerness.

as he gawked at your chest, it was almost as if something had clicked in your mind. and he saw that it had.

“have you... done this before?” you asked, your hands moving down to his shoulders.

“like am i a... a virgin?” he bit his lower lip as he saw you nod. “... yes.”

it didn’t truly surprise you. he had never had a long term girlfriend, and as a child prodigy sex was probably pushed to the back burner.

“are you sure you want your first time to be with me? i’m pretty sure it’s supposed to be special,” you smiled half heartedly.

“of course i want to do it with you. was your first time special?” he rebutted, maybe he knew it wasn’t special ahead of time.

“you deserve for yours to be, though,” you tried to reason.

“it will be if it’s with you, please,” he let his hands trail to your waist as he gave you his best puppy dog eyes, pleading for you to keep going.

“and you’re sure?”

“so sure,” he whispered, smiling before connecting your lips once more.

you were content with that answer. he felt your hands wound in his hair once more, gently tugging at the locks to elicit a groan from spencer. you slowly pushed him back to sit on the bed and straddled his hips, his hands still firm on your waist. clearly, he still wasn’t sure if he was allowed to touch. placing your hands atop his, you trailed them to the front of your body, stopping them once they reached your breasts. he looked up at you with eyes seeking approval, which you granted in the form of a nod. he leisurely took one of them into his mouth, your head rolling back in pleasure from the feeling. his hand continued to work on the opposite side, tweaking the nipple when he took it between his teeth.

“so good to me, spence,” you praised from his lap, slowly grinding against his bulge to seek any form of relief.

you were both getting more and more eager as the time passed, evident by the groans and whimpers that left each other’s mouths. because if this, you ran your hand down his front and let it remain over the bulge before gently stroking it.

“y/n...” he murmured. “please, i-i need...”

“need what, baby?” you asked with a smile. “need my mouth on you? need inside of me? tell me, sweet boy.”

“anything,” he decided to go with. “i need anything.”

“how about i just...” you got off of him to remove your pants before looking back at the man sitting before you. “care to even the playing field?”

“ri-right,” he chuckled before standing up to undo his belt and throw his pants off, followed by unbuttoning his shirt.

“so fucking pretty,” you walked closer to him and slid off your panties. “do you think i’m pretty, too?”

“i-i- of course, i do,” he reached for your waist hesitantly, eyeing your now bare pussy, his nerves not getting the better of him.

“yea?” you straddled him once more but this time pushed his torso down so he was lying on the bed.

he felt your hand trace his bulge that was still trapped inside of his boxers. the light touch was enough for him to whimper. he wanted nothing more than to make you feel good, but he was too mesmerized by the feeling of you.

“morgan has a point when he calls you pretty boy,” your lips were now happily decorating his neck. “i’ve never met a man who i can confidently call pretty, yet here you are.”

“plea-please,” his hips bucked up before you reached inside of his boxers, pulling him out of the fabric.

“before we keep going,” you paused for a moment. “i have condoms in my bag, but i’m clean and on the pill if you’d want to...”

“... not wear one?” you nodded your head. “i’m clearly clean, too. and i just - i really want to feel you.”

“perfect,” you chuckled. “let me do the work, baby,” you sat up temporarily, placing his dick just below your center. “you feel that? how wet i am?”

“yes, god, yes. i feel it,” his hips bucking forward allowed his dick to rub between your folds.

“that’s from you, my sweet boy. all you,” you ground your hips against his member once more, sending his head flying back from the friction.

“please,” he breathed out with obvious frustration. “i-i won’t last long if you keep going.”

“alright, i’ve got you,” you finally rose your hips, reaching between the two of you so you could line him up with your entrance before slowly sinking down on him.

“oh my god,” he whimpered. “you’re-you’re so tight and wet and - god.”

“does this feel as good for you?” you asked as you stayed stationary on his lap, trying to let him soak in this experience as much as he could.

“probably better, if i’m being honest,” he let his hands grip your hips with a bruising touch, too eager to realize his own strength.

“i doubt that,” slowly, you rose your hips before dropping them back down.

spencer’s hands found their way up to your chest, gently pawing at them with fascination. his hips began to meet yours as you picked up the pace.

“fuck, it feels so good,” he cried out, placing one arm around your waist so he could fuck you from beneath.

“ditto, pretty boy,” you groaned as his hips picked up the pace. “so fucking eager, baby. you feel so good inside of me. cum whenever you need to, baby. i want you to cum inside me.”

“fuck - i’m gonna - i-i-“ his hips thrusted up one more time before spurts of his cum filled you up. “oh, fuck!”

“oh, you did so good, sweet boy,” you stroked his hair as he fucked his cum into you, trying to ride out his orgasm. “so, so good.”

you continued to rub his shoulders and stroke his hair as he came down from his high.

“you didn’t come,” he whispered against your chest.

“it’s alright. i still enjoyed myself,” you smiled at the sentiment. “sex isn’t always about coming. it’s also about the intimacy.”

“but i wanted you to come, too,” he nearly whined. “can i... can i make you feel good, too?”

“how do you wanna do that sweet boy?” you wanted to hear him say it, that much was obvious.

“you know,” he turned his head on your chest, placing a chaste kiss on your breast.

“do i?” you tugged gently at his hair to hear him whimper once more.

“please, can i...” he lowered his voice to a whisper, “perform oral on you?”

“oh, i love it when you talk dirty to me, doctor reid,” you sighed with a soft chuckle. “of course you can.”

you lifted yourself off of him before he slowly rolled you over, kissing his way down your body to meet with your center. he placed a soft kiss to your clit before licking a broad stroke up your slit, cleaning up the mess he made inside of you.

“fuck, good boy,” he moaned at the praise, wanting to hear more and more every day.

and he worked for the praise. he lapped at your center and sucked lightly on your clit, quickly building the tension inside of your stomach. once he entered his finger, unprompted, you questioned how experienced he truly was. he curled the finger inside of you expertly, trying to find your g-spot and successfully doing so. it was only a few stroked from inside of you and sucking on your clit for a few more seconds when you came on his fingers, tugging on his hair and digging your nails into his shoulder.

“fuck, spencer!” you moaned out, throwing your head back as he worked you through your own high.

once you had come down, it took pulling spencer up by his shoulders for him to let up on your pussy. that man might’ve been made to eat a girl out.

“you did so fucking good, spence,” you praised before connecting your lips, gently sucking on his tongue.

“that was...” he trailed off, trying to think of the right word to describe it. “it was enticing,” he settled on.

“yea?” you chuckled against his lips.

“yea,” he smiled back before sucking your bottom lip between his own. “thank you, for this.”

“thank you for trusting me with this,” your fingers twirled his locks between your fingers.

“i don’t know how this normally works but... i think i just really want to-i want to...” he squinted his eyebrows before ripping the bandaid off, not wanting to sound too squishy. “can we just cuddle? i think i need to feel close to you.”

“of course we can, spence,” you replied. “but first i need to pee. i refuse to get a uti,” you quickly got up and ran to the bathroom, returning later and finding him cuddled underneath the sheets, leaving space on the bed beside him for you.

once you had laid down, he laid his head on your still bare chest. he loved the closeness and intimacy being bare with you had, and he had never felt it before.

spencer knew he had chosen the right person to not only share his high school reunion with, but also share his first time with. perhaps you would be the first, and last.

#spencer reid smut #mggwl 1k celebration #spencer reid