Before you donate, please take a moment to read our story we really need u. 💔😔
This link is where you can help support our family, and reading our journey will show you exactly how your contribution can make a real difference.👇🙏
Hello, my name is Anas, and I am from Gaza.Some of you may already know me from my previous fundraiser on GoFundMe. I want to explain honest
Hello, my name is Anas, and I am from Gaza and this is Our Story from Gaza: Before and After 💔
Before the war, my family and I lived in the Shuja'iyya neighborhood of Gaza City. Our life was simple but full of meaning. I lived with my parents, my brother, and my sister in a home filled with love and laughter.
Every morning, my father and mother would wake up early to go to work, while my sister prepared for school. We had our normal daily routines, shared meals together, celebrated birthdays, and dreamed of the future.
It wasn’t a rich life, but it was ours. We had our house, a small piece of farmland, good neighbors, and beautiful land around us that gave us a sense of peace and belonging. My mother, father, and sister were always part of this daily rhythm, making our life feel ordinary yet full of warmth and stability.
Every Thursday, our whole family would gather at my grandmother’s house laughter, stories, and meals together. That special time brought us closer and filled our hearts with joy. Now, all of that is gone.
Our home between before and after 🥺💔
The Day Everything Changed
During the first week of the war, the bombing forced us to leave our home. We thought it would be temporary, but then came the news that broke us: our home was completely destroyed. Flattened to the ground. Everything we worked for and saved, every memory, gone in a moment.Since then, we have been displaced multiple times from Shuja'iyya to Rimal, then Al-Zawada, and finally Rafah. Each time we carried less with us. We’ve slept on floors, in schools, and even tents. Nights are freezing, days are unbearably hot. There is no clean water, no electricity, no toilets. We wait hours just for bread. We lost not only our home but also our jobs, our stability, and our sense of safety. Right now, our only dream is to survive tomorrow.
Why I Am Asking for Your Help
I am starting this campaign to support my family because the war destroyed everything we had our home, our land, our routines, and our sense of safety. Your help will allow us to rebuild our lives step by step.
and we are raising $20,000 to help my family survive and rebuild after the war. This amount will allow us to:
1-Rebuilding our home and farmland: Our house was completely destroyed, along with our small piece of farmland. These were not just buildings or land they were the heart of our daily life, where we felt safe and connected to our surroundings. We need help to repair and rebuild a stable home and restore the land that provided us with peace and sustenance.
2-Restoring our daily life and happiness: Before the war, we had routines and small joys working in the fields, sharing meals, celebrating birthdays, and seeing our neighbors regularly. Every Thursday, our family gathered at my grandmother’s house. Those ordinary days brought us happiness and a sense of belonging. We want to bring back some of that normal life.
3-Support for work and livelihoods: The war took away our jobs and sources of income. My parents, who used to work hard to provide for the family, can no longer earn a living safely. Donations will help us cover essential expenses and start rebuilding work opportunities so we can support ourselves again.
4-Food, clean water, and urgent health needs: Life now is a struggle for basic necessities. Your donation helps us access proper food, clean water, and medicine for urgent health needs.
Your support, no matter the amount, is not just money it’s hope, dignity, and a chance for a family who lost everything to start over. Every contribution helps us recover a little of the life we loved and the memories that made it special.
As of today, April 15, 2025, the latest satellite images of our home show that it has been completely destroyed
From My Heart ❤️
To everyone who supported us before, and to anyone reading this now thank you 🙏. I know the world is full of struggles, and I don’t take your kindness for granted.
Please, if you can, donate again through this new link or share it with others. Every bit of help means so much to me and my family. 💔🙏
Hello, my name is Anas, and I am from Gaza.Some of you may already know me from my previous fundraiser on GoFundMe. I want to explain honest
Even $20 will make a big difference and save us!
IMPORTANT: This campaign is real and verified. You can see all updates and amounts raised directly on the link.
You can check here so you can donate with confidence👉verified ✅
If you came from the tags , I want to reassure you, don’t worry, because @gaza-evacuation-funds helps me to make the post reach the largest number of people
!!!
Some of you may already know me from my previous fundraiser on GoFundMe. I want to explain honestly what happened: I closed that campaign myself because receiving the money there was very difficult. Their strict policies only allowed transfers in one currency (USD), which made it hard for many people who wanted to support us in other currencies. Some donations could not even reach us, and part of the money had to be returned to the donors.
That’s why I decided to move my campaign here to chuffed.org. This platform is much better for our situation because it allows people to donate in different currencies (USD, EUR, and more). This way, support can truly reach us without these problems.
Thanks to your support, we have collected $22,236! 🙌
We have returned $2,300, and the remaining funds from our previous campaign are approximately $20,000.
With your help, we are now focusing on achieving our next goals:
🍓Synopsis: Fred knew your love for lip products and also his own obsession with watching you apply them to your sinfully beautiful lips
🍓AN: meant this to be a head canon like perv!draco but this man makes my brain work overdrive. I really enjoyed writing the sofa scene heuheu and just how ADORABLE James looks in this picture 🥹
🍓Pairing: Fred Weasley x Female Reader.
🍓Warnings: NSFW, best friend's brother!fred, slight perv!fred, aged up chars, reader and fred are 2 years apart despite her and ginny being in the same year so not canon complianced(?)
🍓Wordcount: 5.6k
🍓Taglist: @its-jennarose
🍓Masterlist
The Gryffindor common room was bustling with students. The fireplace provided a golden glow to the room filling it with warmth. The room faintly smelled of fire wood, old books and sweet scent of sugar from the contraband sweets students have sneaked in.
Sitting in your usual place with a few of your friends you were contently enjoying the buzzing conversations around you. A few moments passed when you fished into your jean’s pocket, feeling the need to re-apply your lip-gloss. Ask any wizard or witch for their essentials on the go and they’d probably say their wand. You, however might argue it was your lip-gloss —whichever fruit-flavored one happened to be your favorite that week.
You pulled out the gloss tube, twisting the cap open, paying little attention to what your friends were saying. Sliding the applicator free, you placed the brush flat against your bottom lip and carefully dragged it across.
No one seemed to notice your little ritual— except Fred sitting across you. He was probably the only one to know you never went anywhere without your lipgloss. As rowdy and loud the Weasley twin was he was scarily good at noticing things. He was observant. Especially when it came to you.
Fred knew about your love of lip products, particularly fruit-scented ones. He even knew you were obsessed with the red cherry lip balm from Fairy Glam’s latest release. Fred had a secret crush on you, though he’d never call it that. He brushed it off as infatuation, convincing himself it wasn’t serious. After all, you were Ginny’s friend first, then his—off-limits. Ginny had made that very clear. And Fred told himself he was fine with it.
You were Ginny’s friend— childish, silly, annoying. Or so he thought. What Fred hadn’t accounted for was a late bloomer’s charm. How could he ignore you when, over the summer, you had blossomed into an undeniably attractive young woman?
You, the same little girl who’d avoid him during your stays at the Burrow. The same girl who’d have flour smothered all over her face during a baking session with Ginny. The same girl he and George had pranked about monsters under the bed. And yet here you were now, sitting across from him—completely oblivious to the fact that the simple act of applying lip gloss was doing things to him he was far too ashamed to admit out loud.
Fred couldn’t help but feel uneasy—a tangled mix of excitement and shame—like he had to restrain himself before his usual talk first, think later ideology got the better of him. Dare he say it, he was turned on. His eyes followed your every move with predatory focus as you spread the shiny gloss across your puckered lips.
“You want me to give you some?”
You snapped Fred out of his trance. He froze like a deer caught in the headlights.
Fred swallowed hard, his throat suddenly very dry. His brain momentarily short circuited, misinterpreting your words as an open invitation for a kiss. Cursing his brain for even thinking of such lewd possibility. When it became clear you hadn’t meant anything by it, he forced out a nervous chuckle, politely declining.
“Uh no thanks Y/N”, he muttered, lowering his head bashfully trying to avoid your gaze, a blush creeping up to his cheeks. Failing to see the heating up of your own face at his sudden attention.
“Oh is it because its tinted?” you teased a little noticing the lipgloss's subtle pink hue, not to mention the fine glitter particles that shimmered in the light.
Fred quickly shook his head looking around to see if others have caught onto this little exchange of you two.
“I have a vanilla scented one too. It’s basically transparent but it’ll keep your lips moisturized.” You offered him an alternate to the ‘girly’ gloss you were holding. You slipped your hand into your jeans pocket again retrieving a lip balm and holding it in front of him.
George patted Fred’s back, stepping in between your attempt to hand the boy the small lip balm tube.
“You coming or not? Filch’s shoes aren’t going to grow legs themselves, now are they?” the younger twin reminded his brother of the prank they were about to pull.
Fred got to his feet too quickly, almost tumbling back if it weren’t for his brother’s grasp on his shoulder.
“Of course I am,” he replied to George, sparing you one quick glance before waving goodbye.
You reciprocated with an enthusiastic wave, watching his back as he scurried off to mischief with his brother.
—
You reached your dorm room happily skipping. Upon entering you found Becky sat at her desk organizing her stack of books. She glanced towards you as you greeted her before twirling around humming a love song tune. Becky took another look at you dissecting your every movement.
"Oh i know that look very well" she commented.
You paused mid hum turning to her "what look?"
"The I met a certain Weasley look" she teased.
Warmth crept over your cheeks “You don’t know that!" You tried defending yourself.
"You got to stop hanging out with Ginny's brother" Becky clicked her tongue.
"He's not just her brother. He's his own person. And I can’t help to notice how charming he is" you sighed sitting on your bed.
"Then tell Ginny that" she said
You could tell your best friend you've murdered someone and she'd help you hide th4 body but Merlin forbid you’d tell her about your ever-growing crush on her older twin brother.
Unlike Fred, the no dating between friends and family rule wasn't imposed directly on you. The "rule" only appeared one afternoon when one of your classmates called Fred hot and Ginny shut her down immediately, telling her not to get any funny ideas. Very sternly at that. She never said anything directly to you but it was clear: Fred was off-limits. And so you buried your crush deep, too afraid to test the invisible line Ginny had drawn.
"Tell Ginny what?", your best friend's voice came through as she had just entered the room smiling to see you.
You reciprocated her giving her a smile as you swiftly covered up.
"That Jessica should toss out that abomination of a perfume" you said catching how Becky gave you look almost impressed at your quick lying skills.
"Merlin you are so right it’s like a million roses died and for what?" Ginny scrunched up her nose in disgust before laughing.
—
Later that night you were tucked into your bed cozily but sleep did not come to you. Your mind was playing the interaction with Fred on a loop. It kept replaying what happened earlier today. To a third person it might not seem like a grand exchange but to you it was everything.
Being two years younger, Fred had always treated you like a child. You remembered how he would join forces with his twin to prank you and his sister alike, charming teacups during your and Ginny’s little tea parties so they’d float in the air, claiming it was the attic ghoul. You still recalled going to great lengths to try and bake him cookies—keyword: try. George would laugh at how rock-solid they turned out, while Fred, seeing you on the verge of tears, pretended to eat the horrendous cookies, insisting that was exactly how he liked them.
You smiled fondly at the memory. Then there was the time he told you and Ginny scary stories about a monster named Gerald under your bed, which ultimately had you both screaming bloody murder. That, of course, ended with Fred and George getting an earful from Mrs. Weasley. Though the twins apologized, Mrs. Weasley made Fred hug you since his apology lacked sincerity. You remembered internally squealing at the chance to hug your sister’s older brother, your crush. The hug had been stiff and awkward, but you managed to catch a whiff of Fred’s shirt. He smelled of laundry detergent and fireworks. And you loved every second of it.
But now, it was different. His gaze was so intense, like he wanted to share some hidden secret with you. It felt like Fred was seeing you for the very first time, not just as his little sister’s friend, but as you.
The thought made you feel giddy all of a sudden. You were far too hyped to sleep, so you swung your feet off the bed and decided to take a little stroll.
It was way past curfew, but no one ever said anything about hanging out in the common room. You made your way downstairs, your eyes quickly finding another quiet wanderer of the night. Fred was sitting with his back to the fireplace, elbows resting on the sofa arm, eyes closed—so lost in his own thoughts that he barely noticed you coming closer.
“Fred?” you gently called out.
The boy flinched, as if he’d just been caught guilty of something scandalous, before opening his eyes to meet yours.
You nodded toward one of his legs stretched out on the sofa, silently asking him to move so you could sit. Fred immediately straightened up, making space for you.
“What are you doing up?” you asked as you settled beside him.
It was only then that he noticed what you were wearing—little pajama shorts that surely violated a hundred dress codes, paired with a matching spaghetti-strap top. Over it, you had thrown on a sheer cardigan at the last minute, not even bothering to button it up. It was like you were set on fucking him up.
"I could ask you the same" Fred teased.
"True but I asked you first" you smiled and Fred felt defeated.
"Just couldn't sleep" he simply shrugged.
"Me neither" you replied pressing your back against the sofa.
"Something on your mind?" He asked
You shook your head, "not really." You were getting pretty good at this lying thing.
"Someone on your mind?" Fred asked gently nudging you with his elbow. The change in the question caught you off-guard making you flustered that did not go unnoticed by the boy.
“Ooh, so who’s the lucky bloke making our Y/N lose sleep?” Fred teased, poking a finger playfully at your side. The action tickled, making you laugh as you swatted his hand away—jokingly, of course.
“No one!” you half-screamed through your laughter. “As if I’d lose sleep over some silly guy.” You lied for what felt like the nth time today.
“Well, that’s true. It’s the other way around, isn’t it? Lads losing sleep over our lovely girl.” Fred raised his brows up and down at you, making you giggle.
“Exactly,” you agreed jokingly.
A comfortable silence settled between you two. You tilted your head to look at him and noticed he was chewing on his bottom lip. A habit he has developed pretty recently because of you. He had to stop himself from somehow saying wrong things around you, things you don’t say to your little sister’s best friend.
“Don’t do that,” you pointed out.
“Huh?” he asked, halting his movement.
“Biting your lip. See, now they’re all chapped.” You replied, pulling out the same vanilla lip balm you’d offered him earlier.
“Here, put this on,” you said, offering it.
Fred looked at the little tube in your hand, then back at you.
“Guess I’ll try some,” he sighed, smiling at how insistent you were, before taking it from your hands.
He uncapped it, twisting it open. With hesitant hands, he brought the chapstick to his lips pressed into a thin line. He started swiping it across both lips in awkward horizontal strokes, trying to cover them at once.
You watched as he fumbled. “You’re holding it like a wand—hold it like a pencil,” you instructed.
“Like this?” he asked.
When he still couldn’t manage, you scooted closer and took the stick from his hand.
“Give me that.”
You reached out to hold his face, gently cupping his jaw with your fingers and tilting his face toward you.
Fred stilled, not expecting you to be so close, not expecting you to touch him like that.
“You hold it like this” you said softly, demonstrating “and apply a layer to one lip at a time.”
You were teaching him something so simple, yet his mind was completely elsewhere, caught up in your closeness, your touch gentle and warm yet it set his skin on fire.
His eyes flickered momentarily to the tiny bow resting at the top of the deep, rounded neckline of your top, a cute contrast against the tight garment clinging to your chest. From his height, his gaze naturally dipped down toward your cleavage. A rush of heat coursed through Fred as he instantly forced his eyes back up to meet yours.
“Part your lips,” you said. For a second, he wanted to beg your pardon, before quickly realizing you only meant it so you could apply the balm onto his lips.
And he obeyed, so obediently. You dragged the stick across his lower lip, your own lips parting slightly in concentration. He was so close you could feel his breath fanning against your neck. You made the mistake of catching his gaze, and suddenly you were hyperaware of just how little space separated you.
You had never looked this beautiful. The moonlight filtered softly through the common room windows, your eyes sparkling like stars. Your cheeks glowed a rosy pink. There was something about these late hours of the night that made him want you more than ever.
Fred was in agony. The moment he saw you looking at him through your lashes, he was a goner. All common sense be damned. He needed to kiss you.
And so he did. He gently grabbed both of your wrists that made you pause and let go off his face. He pulled you closer and in an instant his lips were on yours.
The kiss was anything but slow. Fred kissed you like he was done holding back, his lips hot against yours. It was only when you kissed him back with equal fervor that he sighed in satisfaction. Carefully, he laid you down on your back against the plush sofa, refusing to break the kiss, terrified that if he did, he’d never get the chance to taste you again. He climbed on top of you, his larger frame securely towering over yours. Your arms looped over his shoulders, fingers tangling in his soft curls.
You could taste the vanilla lip balm as his tongue prodded at your lips, parting them. The sensation drew a whimper from you, a sound that only fueled the fire already burning inside him.
He broke the kiss only to catch your bottom lip between his teeth, giving a gentle tug. The soft assault made you moan, and Fred leaned back just enough to look at you. For a moment, you wondered the voice you made was a mistake but the way he looked at you erased every doubt. His face was flushed, his hair a mess from your tugging, his eyelids heavy with lust. He looked devastatingly hot.
“Merlin, you’ll be the death of me,” Fred breathed taking in the sight of you sprawled beneath him, lips red and swollen, cardigan slipping off one shoulder.
He wasted no time before crashing his mouth back onto yours. Your hands fisted in his shirt, feeling the toned muscles of his chest through the thin fabric. One of his knees pressed between your legs, parting them, and when it made direct contact with your clothed core, you gasped—air stolen straight from your lungs, the sound swallowed eagerly by Fred’s hungry lips.
His knee kept creeping closer, the touch almost electric before you heard the faint sound of footsteps. You gently pushed Fred enough to focus on the noise. Fred almost whined, leaning in to resume the kissing.
“Fred— wait” you warned him but the confusion on his face was evident that he didn’t hear anything.
“Someone’s here” you whispered to him, his brows furrowed “What—”
“Y/N, you there?”, Ginny’s voice snapped both out of your make out haze. Mind suddenly sharp.
Before you could think, you pushed Fred off of you in panic. Luckily for the both of you, the soft rug on the floor absorbed the sound of him falling flat on his butt.
"Ouch!" Fred whispered.
You shot up from your laid-back position, fixing your clothes as quickly as possible. Thank Merlin for the sofa’s back, which shielded you from your very sleepy friend standing at the top of the stairs.
"Ginny?" You asked hoping she'd not seen you with her brother's tongue down your throat.
"You weren't in bed" Ginny replied, sleep evident in her voice.
You silently let out a sigh of relief, "couldn't sleep, got here and drifted off" you lied.
"Come back to bed, yeah?" Ginny yawned already turning on her heel to leave.
"Coming!" You called back making sure she had gone out of sight to finally look at the boy you've shoved off so haphazardly.
"You pushed me." Fred complained with the cutest pout on his lips. You were tempted to kiss him again right there if it weren't for Ginny waiting.
You got up to your feet. "Sorry I have to go, I’ll leave first you sneak in after a few minutes, yeah?" And off you went before Fred could say another word leaving him disappointed still on the floor.
—
The morning came with you dreading any interaction with the boy from last night. Sitting in your usual spot with Ginny you were quick to notice brown eyes piercingg into your soul. You looked up to catch Fred's gaze. He gave you an instant smirk. The memories from past night rushing back and hitting you like a tidal wave.
He dared to wave at you while you silently screamed with wide eyes, trying to convey that Ginny was sitting right beside you. Like a telepath, he only shrugged off your worries.
You quickly busied yourself with the breakfast in front of you, heavily ignoring Fred.
As the day dragged on you attended classes after classes, the thought of a certain boy not leaving you alone even for a second. The ghost of his lips against yours, the burn of his touches all lingered into your mind rendering it useless.
Currently, you were on your way to the next class, a little late since you had decided to stop by the restroom. The haste was evident in every step you took, until suddenly, a hand grabbed your arm and yanked you into a hushed corridor. Before you could scream bloody murder, you came face to face with the very person whose thoughts had held you hostage.
“Bloody hell, Fred! I almost screamed.” You said with your heart racing.
Fred only looked at you with a cheeky grin “Missed me?”
You rolled your eyes at his shameless antics but failed to hide the shy smile that spread on your lips.
“Barely.” You quipped.
“Is that so?” Fred questioned, his voice dropped an octave and you felt a burn deep in the pit for your stomach.
He walked you to the nearest wall, your back softly hitting the solid surface. He leaned lower, his breath fanning your neck as you were reminded of your last night’s rendezvous.
“Well I missed you. A lot. ” Fred whispered, the tip of his nose tickling your ear. He hasn’t even touched you but you felt yourself unraveling at the sound of his voice alone.
“Fred— we really shouldn’t” you tried to be the sensible one but your betrayed you, a soft moan slipping from your lips as Fred pressed a kiss to your neck. Leaving a trail of kisses down your throat, a hand coming to gently cup your jaw as the other made its way to your waist, pushing the robes aside.
“Shouldn’t what, hmn?” he murmured in between his kisses.
It took every ounce of willpower to push him back, just enough to keep his intoxicating scent lingering around you. He smelled of cedarwood and musk—so manly, so dangerously irresistible. But the thought of Ginny’s face, her trust and friendship, brought a rush of shame crashing down on you.
“You’re Ginny’s brother.” You stated.
“I’m aware.” Fred gave you that stupidly handsome cheeky grin.
“I can’t be doing this with my best friend’s brother!” you reasoned. Fred’s hand which was previously on your jaw was now resting on your shoulder.
He looked at you “Do you regret it?”, he asked.
“What?”, the sudden question had you confused.
“Last night, do you regret it?” he clarified, withdrawing his hands from you.
“No its not— no I don’t regret it, I mean not it being you.” You didn’t know how to explain, his hands leaving you silently had you feeling a tad bit sad “It’s just that I don’t want Ginny to hate me!” You silently yelled.
Fred looked around for a moment, as if trying to find a valid reason as to why this wasn’t an utter disaster and breach of trust.
“She doesn’t have to know?” He shrugged.
“So you’re fine with you lying to your sister and me lying to my best friend” you asked.
“Well don’t make it sound so criminal!”, Fred gave a nervous laugh.
You couldn’t help but return a small laugh.
“Stop being stupid.” You said smiling.
A moment passed before you decided to leave. “I have to go to class.” You replied with regret.
“You’re leaving me again?” Fred said holding your hand as you were about to walk away.
Giving him a small smile, your eyes telling him to let go and he did. You reached your class with heavy steps and a heavier heart, wishing you’d never gone to the common room last night.
—
Two days later you were huddled up in the library with three different books open around you. Your focus was on the parchment in front of you, very empty, begging for it to be filled. Joining you in your misery was Ginny, playing with the tip of her quill.
“This is torture”, she exhaled putting the head on the table, silently creasing her own paper as you sighed silently agreeing.
“This will take us forever” you said.
“Not if you let a handsome student help you.” You looked up to see Fred smiling smugly, his hair windswept as he probably came back from a Quidditch practice.
“Did you lose your way to the joke shop?”, Ginny replied lifting the head from the table.
“Nope, just couldn’t see damsels in distress” he replied sending you a wink that had your heart pick up its pace.
“Don’t be a dick Fred, we have work to do.”, contrary to what she said, she immediately put her head back on the table facing away from you two.
“Suit yourself, you know where to find me.” Fred shrugged, reaching for a piece of paper in his pocket. He slid It on to the table in front of you, giving you a smirk as he left.
Glancing over at Ginny you hesitantly reached for the paper. You unfolded the note to see it read: ‘meet me behind the Arithmancy Section’ scribbled in Fred’s horrendous handwriting.
Conflicted between the urge to seek out Fred and the decency to be a good friend, you opted for the first one.
“I need to go use the restroom, I’ll be right back.” You said hoping Ginny wouldn’t want to come with you.
“Yeah alright”, Ginny replied too tired to even look up at you.
You hurriedly made you way to the most secluded corner of the library, instantly spotting the boy with flaming red head as he was coolly rested against the tall book shelves with folded arms.
You noticed his Quidditch robes. His skin still a bit flushed from the extensive drills Wood has them doing. He looked good, he looked really good.
“Hello love, glad to see you came.” Fred pushed himself off the shelves making his way towards you.
You had no idea why you came here or why would he even invite you here the first place. But you knew it was a bad idea.
“You wanted to see me?” you asked, your voice small, barely above a whisper.
“I called you here to finish what you’ve started” Fred said.
You looked at him with burning cheeks “What do you mean?”
With one step he was just mere inches apart from you, damn his long legs.
“This” he stated, reaching out to hold your chin titling it upwards towards him. He brought his thumb to gently swipe against your lower lip, collecting the sticky pink lip-gloss on it.
“You have no idea how fucking hot you look putting on your pretty little lip-gloss on those sinfully beautiful lips of yours” Fred said like it personally pained to see you be so attractive.
“And it makes me crazy you know, that night you tested my limits and I couldn’t help but kiss you.” He tucked a hair strand behind your ear. You swallowed hard looking up at him.
“And now that I’ve had a little taste of you” he cupped your face in his large warm hands.
“I want all of you” Fred cried out.
This time it wasn’t Fred who closed the distance, it was you.
With desperate hands and eager mouth, you pulled him closer to you. Your hands fisting the front of his robes. Light touches travelled down your back as he pulled you flushed against him. With each passing second his kisses grew hungrier more heated, stealing air from you.
“Strawberry gloss?” Fred asked in between kisses referring to the flavoured lip-gloss you were currently wearing.
You were backed up into the nearest shelf, the mere force knocking over a lazy put book from the shelf to the ground. The thud on the ground made you remember a friend just a few rows away from here.
“Fred we can’t—” you breathed out
“Then stop.” Fred dared you kissing you one last time.
“I can’t!” you moaned out desperately.
“As I thought.” He smirked pulling you back in, making quick work of the buttons on your blouse.
He was only done with your second button when a wandering, very lost first year kid stumbled his way into the section you two were currently using for your heavy make out session.
Fred was quick to notice as he immediately shielded your body with his towering one, looking back at the poor kid over his shoulder who had interrupted you two, fixing him with a glare.
“I–I was looking for the Potions section and—” The student stuttered, but decided to turn around and leave as Fred shot him another frightening stare.
You giggled at the exchange in front of you as Fred returned his attention on you again. “Bloody kid” He sighed out smiling when he saw you finding the whole ordeal funny.
He cleared his throat “Where were we?” he asked.
You gave him a quick peck on his lips, “I need to go before Ginny finds me gone for too long” you stated rebuttoning your shirt.
“You’re always leaving me like this” Fred exhaled waving his arms around. The sight so adorable to you that you might’ve stayed.
“I’ll see you around” You smiled at him one last time before disappearing.
—
Fred constantly tried to chat you up the whole week. Suddenly he was everywhere you were, even if Ginny was around. You were in constant worry of Ginny catching on that something was up.
“What do you want?”, Ginny asked her brother as he came and sat as the both of you were having a little relaxation picnic near the Black Lake. Fred scooted closer on the checkered table cloth you guys had spread out.
“Nothing just wanted to spend a little time with my darling younger sister and her little bestie.” Fred replied sending a wink your way that was fortunately gone unnoticed by Ginny due to her looking at her magazine.
Blood rushed to your cheeks, eyes now a bit wide silently telling Fred to knock it off.
“Don’t you have anything better to do” Ginny further asked annoyed.
“I do but she wouldn’t let me”, he said pretending to look deeply saddened.
The panic you felt as the words left his mouth, making direct eye contact with you. God it’s like he wants to get you two caught. Ginny might forgive him because he’s family but she sure as hell won’t forgive you.
Ginny looked at him confused “have you been sniffing floo powder again?”
George came up from behind, patting his brother on the shoulder.
“Your brother has been fancying a girl” George said crowding the cloth by sitting as well.
You felt like your soul almost left your body. Whatever the twins were up to was definitely not good for your nervous system.
You sat beside Ginny brows furrowed and eyes almost popping out of their socket, a contrast to what Ginny was feeling, with her wide smile and glittering eyes.
“oh my goodness, is this true?”, She looked at her brother leaning forward to take a hold of his arm. It was rare when the twins would include her into their personal lives, let alone tell them about their lady friends. She was never happier than now to be included.
“Who do you like?” Ginny couldn’t seem to contain her happiness, failing to see a very panicked you as you had gone silent, deflating quietly.
“She thinks you won’t approve of us” Fred said wiping away his imaginary tears “Didn’t even stay after we shared a passionate night.”
You wanted to leap forward and jump him and not in a sexy way. You wanted to beat the fucker up.
Ginny wasn’t expecting her older brother to share his sex life just like that as her freckled cheeks had a faint hue of pink. You wanted to clarify and tell her it’s not how it sounds but really it was best for you to play mime.
“Merlin Fred, have some decency.” George said faking concern.
“Can’t help it when I’ve been in love with her.” Fred replied directly looking at you, a soft smiling adoring his features.
Your heart stuttered at the bold confession. You searched his eyes for any kind of humour in them, to see if he was joking but were only met with sincerity and a look for complete adoration. You’ve seen him smile plenty of times, Fred wasn’t the only observer, you know him as much as he knew you and now you knew he was far from joking
You were just in the middle of processing Fred’s words as you felt Ginny elbow you, “This is the part where you say you love him too, y’know.” She grinned at you.
It was like a big elaborate prank to you. You had several questions and things to say but your voice seemed to be gone. Ginny raised a brow at you urging you to speak with a smile still on her face.
“What?! No— I don’t know what you’re saying!” you blurted out “How’d you know?” You were silently pleading the deities above to spare you this time.
“Oh come off it! You think I won’t know my best friend’s crush on my stupidly obvious brother?” Ginny said ignoring Fred’s ‘Hey!’ as a defense.
“But still, how?” You asked again, Ginny would’ve told you if she had known.
“Okay fine, I eavesdropped on you and Becky the other day”, Ginny confessed and you gasped.
“very rude to not tell your best friend by the way!” she complained.
You felt guilty “I’m sorry I thought you’d use a forbidden curse on me if I told you” you half whispered still embarrassed to let Fred know you talked about having a crush on him despite him basically saying he loves you.
“Silly, are you kidding? My two favourite people getting together is something I’d been dreaming of since day one!” Ginny exclaimed happily holding your hands.
“I’m your favourite person?” Fred wiggled his eyebrows
“And not me? Thats totally unfair!” George chimed in. Both of them completely ignored by the younger Weasley.
“Wait really? Didn’t you tell Rosa off back then?” you reminded her how quick she shut the girl up.
“Well duh, she was a pain in the ass I wouldn’t want her anywhere near me or my brothers. Besides ive always wanted my best friend to be part of the family.” Ginny confessed embarrassed by her clichéd wishes.
You smiled so wide that your cheeks hurt. You quickly threw yoru arms around your best friend engulfing her in a hug
“I’m so relieved to hear that!”
Ginny giggled hugging you back with equal enthusiasm. “And I’m so happy for you two.”
As you two pulled back Fred got up on his feet offering you his hand. “My lady?” he grinned at you. You placed your hand in his as he gently pulled you up to your feet dragging you away from the other two.
You giggled, your heart full with warmth. You could finally be with Fred Weasley without worrying about being a bad friend.
“Where’re we going?” you asked as he linked your arms together.
“Need to finish what you started, without interruptions this time.” Fred grinned wickedly making your heart swell.
“With you now as my girlfriend of course so it’s even better.” His words made you giddy
You laughed softly as Fred led you to Merlin knows where, hand in hand. The chaos, the confession, Ginny’s meddling and of course the intensely heated moments you shared with Fred, it felt perfectly imperfect, exactly how you had imagined it. It was all so Fred.
With Ginny’s blessing and your racing heat, you knew this was start for something truly extraordinarily beautiful.
hello i’ve been a lurker for a while now and have only just realised i wasn’t following you lmao😭😭
please could a request a meal with fred weasley x fermented x understanding x “fineee ill do it just for you” x friends to lovers??i
f not that’s okay and have a good day!!
✧.* FRED + FERMENTED + UNDERSTANDING + “fineeee I’ll do it just for you + FRIENDS TO LOVERS
A/N: sitting in this fucking tattoo shop writing fanfiction is the dichotomy of women. I’m finishing my Alice In Chains back piece today!! Everyone say “yayyyy saige”
The library is silent except for the scratching of quills, the occasional cough, and the flutter of pages being turned. You’re curled up at your favorite table near the back, parchment spread in a neat circle around you, your quill racing across the page. The dim golden light of the lamps makes everything feel hushed, like the rest of the world is far away.
You’re halfway through a particularly difficult line when the chair beside you screeches across the floor. You don’t even have to look up.
“Thought you’d be here,” Fred Weasley says, sliding into the seat with all the grace of a Kneazle in a teacup. His hair is a mess, his tie loose, and he looks wildly out of place among the studious hush of the library.
You glance at him, unimpressed. “You lost? Joke shop’s that way.”
He smirks, unbothered. “Nah. I’ve come in search of a brilliant academic to save me from my own doom.”
You arch a brow. “And what doom would that be?”
Fred drops his bag onto the table with a heavy thunk and pulls out crumpled parchment, barely legible notes, and an ink bottle that looks like it’s been through a war. He pushes them toward you with a pitiful expression. “Transfiguration essay. McGonagall wants five feet on human to animal reversal spells by tomorrow. I’ve written… one sentence.”
You glance at the parchment. His sentence, if it can even be called that, reads: ‘Turning a ferret back into a boy is complicated, but funny.’
You bite your lip to hold in your laugh. “Wow. Very insightful. I’m sure she’ll give you full marks for humor.”
“Really?” His face lights up, though you know he’s playing dumb.
You snort. “No, you absolute idiot.”
Fred groans dramatically, leaning across the table until his head is practically in your notes. “C’mon, love. Help me. You’re good at this sort of thing.”
You tilt your head, pretending to think. “And why should I?”
“Because,” he says, grinning, “you adore me.”
You give him a look. “Big assumption.”
“Accurate assumption,” he counters, eyes twinkling. “Besides, no one else in this castle has handwriting neat enough for me to copy.”
You roll your eyes, quill poised above your parchment. “Fineeeeee,” you drawl, drawing the word out just to annoy him, “I’ll do it. But only because it’s you.”
Fred stops pretending for a moment. His grin softens into something warmer, almost careful, and he studies you with a gaze that makes your chest feel too tight. “Only because it’s me, huh?”
You feel heat creeping up your neck and quickly push a fresh sheet of parchment toward him. “Don’t get used to it.”
He takes it, but his fingers brush yours, lingering for just a second too long. It’s subtle, but enough to make your heart trip over itself.
For the next hour, you talk him through the essay, pointing out where he needs to expand, where he’s gone off-topic. He listens—well, mostly. Half the time he’s watching you instead of the parchment, chin propped on his hand, a lopsided smile tugging at his mouth.
“You’re staring,” you mutter, eyes glued to your notes.
“Am not,” he says immediately, though he doesn’t look away.
“Yes, you are.”
He shrugs. “Can’t help it. You’re more interesting than reversal spells.”
You shove his shoulder lightly, but you can’t stop the smile spreading across your face. “Focus, Weasley.”
He chuckles, finally bending over his parchment to scribble down your explanations. But every so often, his knee bumps against yours under the table, lingering like he doesn’t quite mean to move it away.
Eventually, you lean over his shoulder to correct a line he’s written, your hand brushing against his arm. He goes still, quill frozen mid-word, and for a moment, the library feels too quiet, too small.
You pull back quickly, clearing your throat. “There. Fixed.”
Fred looks at you, his grin returning—but softer this time, with something unspoken in his eyes. “See? Knew you couldn’t resist helping me.”
You roll your eyes again, but there’s no heat in it. “You’re impossible.”
“And yet,” he says, voice low and teasing, “you like me anyway.”
You duck your head, pretending to busy yourself with your own parchment, though you can’t hide the smile tugging at your lips. And when his knee brushes yours again, neither of you moves away.
Ooooo what about nerd anakin x popular cheerleader reader dating? Like opposites attraction, them being lovey lovey
That Boy is Mine
Summary: Going on a boba date with your beloved boyfriend.
Pairing: nerd!anakin x popular!reader
Warnings: people judging their relationship, a bit of jealous reader, anakin and reader being obsessed with one another
A/n: no cuz I was actually thinking about writing something like this!
You lean against the wall right outside the mechanics lab, waiting for the class to be over. You smile and wave at one of the football players, Aiden, passing by. "Hey Y/n! What're you standing out here for?"
"Hey Aiden! I'm just waiting for my boyfriend." You simply reply back. He seems taken aback as he furrows his eyebrows and looks around at the nearby science classrooms.
"Here? What's your boyfriend doing here?" He seemed genuinely confused.
"He's in his mechanics class right now. Actually he should be getting out right about....now!" You check the time on your phone and right as the clock strikes 12, a rush of students start flooding out of the classroom into the quad outside.
You scan the people, anxiously looking for your beloved boyfriend. Aiden's eyes flicker from you to the crowd, curious to see who the mysterious guy who holds your heart is. Your eyes light up when you finally spot him, he's one of the last few to leave.
"Ani!" You call out. He turns his head and smiles when he sees you waiting for him. He mutters something to someone behind him and your smile falters when you see it's a girl. She nods with a smile at whatever he tells her which sours your mood a bit.
You hide your jealousy with a loving smile when he runs up to you and wraps his arms tightly around your body. "Hello my love!" You giggle as picks you up with little effort and spins you around.
Aiden, still standing a few feet from you, watches in with a bizarred look on his face.
Way before you and Anakin had even started dating, none of your friends could understand why or how you had a crush on him. They'd watch in confusion at the way you'd stare at him from across the quad, oggling the way he'd adjust his glasses everytime it slid down the bridge of his nose as he read the book in his hands.
You could have any guy you want, especially ones with a higher social status, and yet you wanted the nerd who mostly kept to himself and barely had any friends? They just couldn't fathom what you see in him. No one ever told you their thoughts to your face directly, knowing that you'd end them in seconds. But that didn't stop them from giving you weird looks, especially your friends.
On a fateful day when Anakin's car had broken down and he was seconds away from crashing out, you pulled up beside him in the parking lot. "Need a ride?" He had to do a double take when he saw that it was you, Y/n, known to be in the more popular group at the school.
He's heard things about you, nothing particularly bad. He still would've never guessed you'd offer him a ride.
Realizing that he had no other choice, he ultimately agreed. And after that day, neither of your lives were the same.
None of the weird looks or whispers you'd hear ever bothered you. Nothing could ever stop you from loving him and vise versa. You knew what the two of you have is real. It doesn't matter if no one else understands it.
"How was class handsome?" You barely acknowledge Aiden when he departs, only glimpsing at him with a small smile. Anakin sets you down and you fix his crooked glasses that shifted when he hugged you before tangling your fingers in his curls, playing with the ends.
"It was fine. We have a small project due next week so Natalie and I are gonna work on it a bit today." Your smile falters when he gestures to the girl behind him, the same girl he walked out with. She had been standing there awkwardly as you and Anakin embrace each other, waiting for Anakin to depart with her to the library.
"Oh...today?" Your voice sounds more quiet now and he begins to panic a bit.
He nods, "is that okay?" His voice is laced with concern. He never wants to do anything that would make you upset. It'd kill him.
"I just– I was kinda hoping we could hang out today, maybe get some boba. But if you're busy then that's oka–" Your hold on him begins to loosen which causes his around you to tighten.
"No no no that's okay! We can do the project another day." He turns around to face Natalie, "right? We can do it Thursday?"
Her eyes widen at the sudden spotlight, "oh y‐yeah sure." She smiles before awkwardly leaving. No use being there still since her and Anakin are no longer working on their project today.
When Anakin turns back to you with a smile and raised brows, seeing if you're feeling better, you start to feel bad now. "Ani, you didn't have to do that."
He brushes you off, "don't worry about it. We can get that done in a day or two. Plenty of time to turn it in." He leans down to kiss your pout away "seriously, don't worry about it! Let's go." He grabs your hand and guides you to the car.
"Where are we going?" Your smile is slowly coming back as you get closer to your car.
"To get boba!" He opens the door for you and holds his hand out for your keys. You place them in his hand and he shuts the door. He doesn't mind driving, especially when it's your car since it's way nicer than his. Being a bit of a car nerd, he'll take any chance he can to use yours.
When he gets into the driver's seat, he immediately takes your hand in his with a dopey smile and kisses it before driving off.
"I could've paid y'know," you say after you sit down to wait.
After ordering your drinks, you're about to swipe your card before Anakin smacks your hand away with a playful grin and taps his instead. You just stare at him in mock offense while he tries to hide the smug look on his face.
"Yeah but what kind of boyfriend would I be if I let you do that? If I'm gonna be a rich engineer in the future, I might as well get my lady used to being spoiled." He leans forward, elbows resting on the table, as he reaches for your hand.
While he laces his fingers with yours, you just roll your eyes, trying to hide your giddy smile. You do a shit job since his smile just widens and he kisses your knuckles.
"Order number 66!" The worker calls out. You're about to get up but Anakin gestures for you to stay put and he'll just get both of your drinks.
When he sits back down, you grab your straw and then reach for your drink but he pulls it away. "Close your eyes." You do as he says and hear him move it around before tapping. With your eyes still closed, you stab the straw in the direction you heard him tap.
You let out a victory cheer when you open your eyes and see that you just barely got it. "Good job baby." He opens his straw and reaches for his drink but you pull it away. He looks up at you with a raised brow and you only respond with a knowing grin.
He closes his eyes and waits to hear you tap on the cover. He misses the first few tries before eventually giving up. You throw your hands up in victory, "I win! You lose!"
He pokes his tongue in his cheek as he just smiles while shaking his head. "Yeah yeah no need to rub it in ms cheerleader."
"Speaking of which, do you think you can come over to my place after practice tomorrow? I need help studying for Mr Windu's test and since you already took the class, I figured my super smart boyfriend could be of help."
"You mean you want me to tutor you?" He takes a sip of his drink.
You shrug, "I mean it's not like I'm completely clueless in the subject. You can just read off my flash cards for me."
Anakin finishes chewing the jellies before speaking, "of course I'll help you study. Whatever chance I can get to spend time with my girl." He winks at you and you smile shyly, looking to the side away from his burning gaze.
Your have to bite your lip to hide your growing smile when he lifts your hand to his lips again. You're caught of guard when he gets out of his seat and slides on the bench next to you. You let out a small squeal as he wraps his arms around you and begins placing small kisses all over your face.
"Ani what are you doing?" You breathe out through your giggles.
"You're just so cute when you get all shy!" He replies, slowing down his affection. "Who would've known Ms popular cheerleader could get so timid with me?"
You push him away slightly so you can breathe again. "Oh you shut up! You tell anyone, and I'm breaking your glasses." You threaten with a stern look and pointed finger at him.
He places a hand on his chest, "then how will I be able to see my angelic girlfriend?"
"That'll just have to be your punishment." You shrug with a mischievous grin.
"Fine, I won't tell anyone." He promises with a kiss to your temple. He keeps his arm wrapped around your shoulder while he continues to sip on his drink and listen to you talk.
Your daydream was interrupted by JJ’s question. You lift your head and JJ, Prentiss and Garcia are looking at you curiously.
”I’m fine.”
You're careful to keep your tone even, but it does nothing.
“Are you sure about that?”
Prentiss lifts a brow and you sigh, dropping the pen on the desk. The second you got the slip from Hotch you’ve been distracted.
“I have another joint case with the Las Vegas Police Department.”
“And that’s bad?” Garcia asks.
JJ and Prentiss seem to already evaluate why you’re so distracted.
They both take a seat and Garcia is more than ready for the inside scoop. She pulls a chair herself.
“I’m just..confused..”
“Confused about what exactly? An attractive intelligent man hitting on you?” Prentiss asks.
You stare in shock and JJ laughs at your expression.
“We knew the second you came back and stopped ranting about that supervisor. It wasn’t hard to put it together.”
If you were being that obvious you’re almost mortified now. If they figured it out then Spencer definitely knew.
“Don’t worry, Spencer is just as oblivious as you when it comes to these things. He has no idea.” JJ assures.
That’s actually a relief.
“H-Hey!”
Garcia giggles.
“It’s your character flaw. You can break down a case, but not the more finer things. It might be hereditary.”
They seem amused and you just sulk in your seat.
“What am I supposed to do?”
You’re not sure how to face him and act nonchalant after the encounter.
“It depends, do you like him?”
“N-No! He drives me crazy. He keeps questioning my work, he doesn’t like to admit it, even when I’m right and he says the most ridiculous things that are actually sometimes pretty sweet..”
You trail off and they exchange a look.
“So you really like him.”
You groan, dropping your head on the desk.
“This is going to suck.”
They just laugh.
The trip to Las Vegas felt like it just flew by.
Another murder case, one the sheriff was apparently paying close attention to. When you get on the scene, Sara and Grissom are already collecting all that they can. You’d read the witness statements on the way and did a preliminary evaluation on the suspect the police currently have in custody.
Sara is the first one that spots you making your way behind the yellow tape as you walk into the house where the body is currently laying.
A young woman.
“Good to see you again.”
You nod.
“I wish the visits were under more desirable circumstances.”
Grissom is second to notice and he looks over, glasses perched on his nose. Despite all the coaching you did to remain professional, the second your eyes met, that seemed to rush right out the window.
Unconsciously you lick your lips and he just watches you for a moment, the way he does when he exams something he’d like to solve. It makes you feel a bit bashful to be so carefully studied. You quickly divert your gaze.
“Catch me up.”
You state, ready to hear all that they’ve gotten so far.
The rundown is quick.
Gunshot wound to the back of the head.
From the wound as well as blood splatter, it’s clear that she’d been killed somewhere else.
Grissom informs you that they’d done their preliminary and he gives his insights before the body is taken away to be examined.
For the next hour they gather as much as they can before you’re all off again.
When you’d all made it to the morgue, the evaluation leaves a lot for thought.
Despite the obvious, there’s marks on both her wrists and ankles, as if she’s been restrained. All of which had been carefully covered before by her clothing.
“These aren’t the only marks we found. Superficial bruises on her gluteus maximus as well as similar healed bruising on her throat, over her eyes as well as along inner thighs.” Your gaze hardens at the doctor’s assessment.
“She was sexually abused?” Grissom questions.
“That was my first thought as well. But the kit came back negative. What I did find was a contraceptive.”
Your brows furrowed.
“She prepared?”
That doesn’t make much sense.
“Not just that.” She moves to the table and you watch as she holds up a sheet of paper, handing it to Grissom.
“There were pieces of leather remnants on her wrists. The trace came back and you’d never believe what we found.”
You’re a bit confused and Grissom simply looks like he understands better.
“Thank you.”
The doctor nods with a smile and you follow him out as he takes off as if on a mission.
“Are you going to share with the class?”
“You’ll know soon enough.”
Great, another riddle.
You’re both on the road again. When you step out the car you look around and the building Grissom heads for doesn’t truly answer any of your questions. He’d made a few calls before you left, so you’re not surprised that the people at the reception desk expect you.
“We’re devastated to hear about what happened to Ms. Harper. Anything we can do to help.”
The woman seems very cooperative.
You adjust the camera around your neck.
“We’d like to see the room she frequently used.”
“Yes, of course, follow me.”
Grissom sends you a look as you both follow her down the hall. As you walk through, the many doors are a bit lost on you. This looks like any other high end establishment. When you get to the desired room, the woman unlocks it, turning to the both of you with a sly smile.
“If you’re interested we’re very discreet about our clientele.”
She sends an awfully suggestive look to Grissom before excusing herself. With his kit in hand he enters and you prepare for a pristine office, but what you get is something completely different. The door closes and your face is possibly every shade of red.
“I-Is this a….”
“Sex room. Yes. The bruises found on our victim were not from any altercation. She had some very specific taste. It’s possible that one of her regular attendants could be our killer.”
He moves through the room and you swallow at the many whips, collars, chains and other erotic items around the room. He chooses a spot to begin his work.
You’re still a bit thrown off. You’re positive you’ve never been this flustered in your life. You can’t understand how he could be so casual about this. Then again, he’s probably seen worse.
“Make sure you photograph everything.”
You jolt out of your daze.
“Y-Yes!”
You practically scramble away and Grissom hides a small smile as he gets back to it.
For the next hour you’re logging everything of potential interest. You’d move to the corner with the few rows of stands that have an array of items. You can’t seem to really grasp it. You’ve never really considered venturing in this direction.
For a moment you lower your camera, reaching for one of the leather cuffs. You turn your hand once it’s around, as if to check the size and compare your hand with that of your victim, maybe understand when they were made, or what the appeal is.
You intend to just lightly close the metal, but it clasps shut and you flinch when you tug and it doesn’t release.
“N-No way..”
This could not be happening.
You pull and pull but it doesn’t give way, when you look over, the desk seems to hold a small container of keys but it’s at least ten feet away.
“You’ve got to be kidding me.”
This is embarrassing enough.
“You’ve gotten more involved in roleplay I see.”
Grissom’s voice makes your cheeks color.
“I-It’s not like that! I-I was just trying to understand the time frame of her bruises and the damn thing locked me in.”
He chuckles, easily spotting the keys, strolling over there with his kit in hand. He places the kit down and grabs the keys. As he’s making his way back over you’re still fighting against the restraints.
“If you keep pulling you’re going to bruise.”
You frown.
“How the hell do people even like this? It’s so primitive.”
Grissoms just wears a smile, and as he gets closer, you become more aware of how scandalous this situation is. You’re at his mercy in a sense. Chained to this structure.
He’s now standing right before you and the difference in height makes you swallow. He looks down at you, taking it all in. You’ve stopped resisting, lips parted, eyes solely on him, arm still in a lifted position from your predicament.
“BDSM is about power. Some people enjoy holding it, others enjoy being at the mercy of it. Regardless of the position, all of those engaged have control over what they want, what is done. For many it’s an escape from the things in their life they can’t control. For others…”
He moves in, and the lack of distance makes your mind go blank. He lifts both hands to free you, his lips a breath away.
“It’s the thrill, the racing in your chest when your partner has you completely captured..”
He’s right about one thing, your heart is indeed racing. You're dazed, and just for a second you assume he’ll close the distance. The click of your restraint echoes and he steps back as you stumble, your hand now free.
“We should get going. There’s a lot of work to be done.”
He turns, moving to grab his kit and you straighten your suit with a shaky breath.
“Damn him.”
This is actual torture.
For the next few hours you’re hard at work. Grissom is working the evidence with Sara. Nick and Warrick have stopped by for a bit of guidance, as well as to observe the progress on your case.
Grissom has presented a theory and he seems very sure the murder was done during one of the victim’s ‘sessions’. You haven’t ruled it out. It’s obvious that she was moved.
You know that much.
“Whoever did this, completed it in close quarters. According to the abrasions under her eyes, she was blindfolded first. This was someone she trusted. They were seated, and so was she.”
Grissom takes a seat on the chair he’s staged in the center of the room.
“So he had a chair adjacent to her?” Nick asks.
Grissom shakes his head.
“Not adjacent. He sat first, she sat second.”
Warrick looks curious.
“She sat in his lap? That’s pretty ballsy.”
“It explains the bruises on her inner thighs. Her body gave way when she died, so he had to physically move her, that’s why they were superficial. He added a little extra force than usual.”
Grissom makes motions with his hands as if to mimic the weight and action. Warrick grins.
“Nick, maybe you should help him out.” He nudges. Nick laughs and Sara puts her finger on her nose.
“Not it.”
They all laugh and even Grissom smiles at the antics. When their focus changes to you, well, you know it’s trouble.
“Maybe we should have our profiler do a bit of roleplay.” Warrick states.
You know he’s teasing, and from the looks you know they don’t expect you to actually do it. But you feel a need to prove yourself, especially after your little incident.
“Fine! I’ll do it.”
You march over and Grissom seems a bit impressed. Warrick and Nick are snickering and Sara shakes her head with a laugh. Now standing in front of Grissom, you’re determined. He opens his arms and you climb on, legs straddling him.
Instinctively you press closer to avoid falling and when you’re situated, you meet his eyes, as if waiting for instruction. He’s looking right back at you with that gaze that seems to penetrate you right to your soul. Your pulse once again has gotten a mind of its own.
“Close your eyes.”
“W-What! Why?”
“Blindfold.”
He gestures around your eyes.
You’d rather not, but you’ve already volunteered, so you might as well commit. Closing your eyes, you keep your hands steady on his shoulders. Without your sight you seem to be aware of so much more.
Like how broad his shoulders are, or how good it feels to be this close. His hands move down to your thighs, and you bite your lip to prevent any sounds from escaping. His hands are big, they seem to easily slip under each thigh. Unconsciously you tighten your grip on his shoulders, back arching.
“Good job, we got him.”
His words make your eyes open, and before you can question it, he stands with an almost victorious laugh with you still in tow. Clearly you're caught by surprise, the fear of falling imminent, but he easily manages your weight with a palm gently pressed to your back and your gaze once again meets his. He says nothing, just watches you for a moment before he places you gently on your feet.
“Thank you.”
That’s all he says before he’s diving back into the evidence.
You’re not sure what to say.
An hour later you’re arresting the spouse.
Apparently he’d caught wind of his wife’s extracurricular and decided to put an end to it before his reputation was compromised. Grissom was proud to report that moving the body was the husband’s biggest mistake.
Now with your criminal behind bars, everything feels right.
Warrick and the others have wrapped up their individual cases, bidding their goodbyes.
You’re the last to see Grissom.
You’re not sure how, but the second the door closes he seems to know it’s you, because he’s wearing that smile again. Like he can read your mind.
“Listen, I think we should talk.”
You need to set a few things straight.
“This little game you’re playing, I’m not interested. You’ve had your fun, proved your point. I’m clueless and inexperienced when it comes to certain things. I can admit that. What I don’t like is being someone’s puppet.”
“Who said anything about being a puppet?”
You frown.
“Don’t play dumb. You keep doing these little things that make me-”
“Make you what?”
He stands, and suddenly you don’t feel as sure. He slides his glasses off easily, placing them on the desk.
“Nothing I’ve done has been a game.”
You hate how such simple words make you so happy on the inside. His approach is slow and with each step, you can feel your defenses lowering. This man, he infuriated you.
“I question you because I want to understand what you do. My job is figuring out the how, the why has never been of much importance to me. Yet it works for you. I’d like to know more, apply it in a way that works with my evidence. What better way to learn than from the best.”
He stops, now looking down at you and your gaze wavers.
“You’re an amazing woman, and I’d be lying if I said that I don’t appreciate it, your perspectives, insights, presence..”
The last part is mumbled and you’re almost certain your legs will give out.
“I apologize if this makes you uncomfortable. If you’d like me to keep our meetings strictly professional then I respect that decision.”
You should say it, explain that professional is the only route forward. But when he looks at you that way, it almost makes you forget how truly deficient you are in this area. How much you really have missed because he looks about ready to ravish you and all you seem to think about is what it would feel like if he indeed decided to slam you against the wall and steal your breath away.
“I..I..”
You can’t form a coherent word, much less a sentence.
“Yes?”
He encourages.
You swallow, and he simply smiles, hands gently cupping your cheeks.
“I’ll be gentle since it’s your first time.”
He’s teasing you again, you know that. You should yell at him, but he closes the distance and any retaliation disappears because his lips are so soft and he smells so deliciously tantalizing. It must be aftershave, because he’s said on more than one occasion that he doesn’t wear cologne.
Messes with the evidence.
You moan, hands gripping his shirt as he gently pushes you to the wall. Your back makes a soft sound and his hands change direction, gently running down your body. One lands on your waist, sliding up your back to pull you flush against him. You gasp when his lips part for a moment only to reclaim yours, this time his tongue has taken control.
You whimper, bashful with your own inexperience. Grissom gently coaxes you to follow his lead and you do so, getting a bit light headed.
Maybe he realizes, because he pulls away this time and you pull in a shaky breath. His lips have changed direction, now trailing over your skin. He presses a kiss to your neck, then another and another, slowly caressing you.
You’re convinced that you no longer have the ability to speak, because all that seems to escape you are desperate moans.
Reminder for when he “saves” it. He was the one who wanted this, and now he gets to be the hero and win favour with young constituents. Don’t give him the credit for fixing his own problem.
Hey! Are there blacksmiths in your story? I'm a hobbyist blacksmith and I'm here to help!
Blacksmithing is one of those things that a lot of people get wrong because they don't realize it stuck around past the advent of the assembly line. Here's a list of some common misconceptions I see and what to do instead!
Not all blacksmiths are gigantic terrifying muscly guys with beards and deep voices. I am 5'8, skinny as a twig, have the muscle mass of wet bread, and exist on Tumblr. Anybody who is strong enough to pick up a hammer and understands fire safety can be a blacksmith.
You can make more than just swords with blacksmithing. Though swords are undeniably practical, they're not the only things that can be made. I've made candle holders, wall hooks, kebab skewers, fire pokers, and more. Look up things other people have made, it's really amazing what can be done.
"Red-hot" is actually not that hot by blacksmith terms. when heated up, the metal goes from black, to red, to orange, to yellow, to white. (for temperature reference, I got a second degree burn from picking up a piece of metal on black heat) The ideal color to work with the metal is yellow. White is not ideal at all, because the metal starts sparking and gets all weird and lumpy when it cools. (At no point in this process does the metal get even close to melting. It gets soft enough to work with, but I have never once seen metal become a liquid.)
Blacksmithing takes fucking forever. Not even taking into account starting the forge, selecting and preparing metal, etc. etc. it takes me around an hour to make one (1) fancy skewer. The metals blacksmiths work with heat up and cool down incredibly fast. When the forge is going good, it only takes like 20 seconds to get your metal hot enough to work with, but it takes about the same time for it to cool down, sometimes even less.
As long as you are careful, it is actually stupidly easy to not get hurt while blacksmithing. When I picked up this hobby I was like "okay, cool! I'm gonna make stuff, and I'm gonna end up in the hospital at some point!" Thus far, the latter has yet to occur. I've been doing this for nearly a year. I have earned myself a new scar from the aforementioned second degree burn, and one singe mark on my jeans. I don't even wear gloves half the time. Literally just eye protection, common sense, and fast reflexes and you'll probably be fine. (Accidents still happen of course, but I have found adequate safety weirdly easy to achieve with this hobby)
A forge is not a fire. The forge is the thing blacksmiths put their metal in to heat it up. It starts as a small fire, usually with newspaper or something else that's relatively small and burns easily, which we then put in the forge itself, which is sort of a fireplace-esque thing (there's a lot of different types of forge, look into it and try to figure out what sort of forge would make the most sense for the context you're writing about) and we cover it with coal, which then catches fire and heats up. The forge gets really hot, and sometimes really bright. Sometimes when I stare at the forge for too long it's like staring into the sun. The forge is also not a waterfall of lava, Steven Universe. It doesn't work like that, Steven Universe.
Welding and blacksmithing are not the same thing. They often go hand-in-hand, but you cannot connected two pieces of metal with traditional blacksmithing alone. There is something called forge welding, where you heat your metal, sprinkle borax (or the in-universe equivalent) on it to prevent the metal from oxidizing/being non-weldable, and hammer the pieces together very quickly. Forge welding also sends sparks flying everywhere, and if you're working in a small space with other blacksmiths, you usually want to announce that you're welding before you do, so that everyone in a five-foot radius can get out of that five-foot radius. You also cannot just stuck some random pebbles into the forge and get a decent piece of metal that you can actually make something with, Steven Universe. It doesn't work like that, Steven Universe.
Anvils are really fucking heavy. Nothing else to add here.
Making jewelry is not a blacksmithing thing unless you want jewelry made of steel. And it will be very ugly if you try. Blacksmithing wasn't invented to make small things.
If there's anything here I didn't mention, just ask and I'll do my best to answer.
Do you have any reccomendations for plus sized/curvy reader fics or blogs? Feeling a bit down today, and could really use some lovely fics to pick me up x
Hey love, don’t feel down, Ima smother you with kisses!!! 💖
Plus Size Reader / OFC Rec List
So, as far as I can remember (and I have shitty ass memory + haven’t had my second coffee yet so if I forgot someone please don’t hate me), these lovely writers wrote / write plus size:
@avengedwritings
° While the Captain’s Away - Syverson x Plus-Size Fem!Third Person
@rmtndew
° Pretty in Pink - August Walker x Plus-sized OFC
@penwieldingdreamer
° body shaming drabble - Henry x Plus-Size Reader
@demivampirew
° What was it about me that made you fell in love? - Henry x plus-size reader
° Kalentine Day - Henry x Plus-Size Reader
° You’re too good to be true - Mike x Plus-Size Reader
@being-worthy has a whole masterlist full of goodies
@yespolkadotkitty
° The Way I See You - Henry x Plus Size Reader
@lunedelorient
° Try This On - Henry x Non-Average-size Reader
@viking-raider
° Mission Impossible: Love - Henry x Plus Size Reader
@maximumninjavoid
° Mining for Unobtanium
@diegos-butt
° Check out her entire masterlist! She writes Walter, Sy and other character x plus-sized / curvy OFC characters.
@angryschnauzer - I don’t think Schnauz wrote specifically plus-sized reader, she writes inclusively like myself, but I noticed that her latest story Distraction had a curvy woman in the cover image so I’d like to add this to the list (I mean it’s also one of the hottest things I read)
Schnauz, if I am mistaken please let me know.
I’d like to emphasise again that I write inclusively, my reader inserted and almost all of my OFCs stories don’t include a description of body, hair, skin or eye colour, etc. 🖤
No, they will! But they'll work through it, or walk away for a bit (i'm talking minutes to hours) and then come back.
People can love you and still need to get away from you for a bit. And there is nothing toxic about that — it's good, in fact. It helps remind everyone involved that everyone has boundaries, and everyone needs time to themselves.
It's okay. Calm down before you talk about something that made you angry while your loved one is sick. Be sure of what made you mad so you can discuss it together.
Love isn't a one-way street, and it's something that takes work. Part of that work is knowing when you need to step away.
And it's not always 50/50, sometimes a partner will have more or less to give due to stress or disability or any other factor. It's how you react to it and what steps you take to reassure them that you've got their back.
I have a whole new monster for all of you. A creature made of rare gemstones who is hunted for their clarity and beauty. They're considered status symbols, but there is more to these beautiful creatures than their gems will show.
Extra long story!
Male Reader (cis) x Female Monster (technically nonbinary)
From our position I can see the caravan filing away from the mine. The box we’re after is in the very middle. The iron chamber is so heavy it requires special wheels to hold it and only oxen are able to pull it.
“This Gemling has quite a few guards,” my companion Arcus murmured.
I lowered my spyglass. “Not really. Just seems that way. They are crowding around the box pretty heavily. That’s new.” The trail around the box seems long, but only because they’re carrying some mining cars with them. What fascinates me is the way the Gemling box is crowded around, like they’re more interested in keeping the thing in than any outside force.
Arcus caught the way my tail was twitching and smirked. “Excited?”
“A little.” I knelt down on our ledge, eyes focused upon that box, curious as to why the guards were acting so strangely. Our employer paid heavily for these Gemlings, the better quality of gems they produced, the more money we made.
“Should be a good haul, don’t you think?” Arcus wasn’t seeing the big picture, just his version of the future where a slew of beautiful men would throw themselves at his feet.
“Not sure,” I muttered. “But it’s getting dark, they’ll have to rest soon.”
Arcus folded his arms against his chest. “Better be a good one. Last one didn’t have the clarity the Baron likes.”
I glanced at Arcus, wondering how he hadn’t put it together. The last few Gemlings hadn’t paid as well as they used to. Very few gemlings we have gotten for the Baron have been to his standards, and they’ve been going down hill for a while. Perhaps, and maybe I am overthinking things, the longer a Gemling is kept in their box, the weaker their gems are.
“C’mon, let's catch back up.” Arcus slapped my back, turning my attention back to our horses. We rode off, heading towards the usual campsite of the mining trail.
Sure enough, the Gemling’s caravan stopped there before dark. The guards and workers set up a fire, cooking their food and gathering in a group. The iron box was locked, and the gemling inside was probably fast asleep.
Some of our group had set themselves up long before, pretending to be miners heading towards the mine. They had already lured in the caravan to their side, providing them laced wine which would be our biggest ally in getting the iron box.
“Looks like they’re pretty loose,” Arcus said as we made our way through the shadows. He ducked himself down, eyeing the bonfire and the men around it.
“Stop thinking with your dick.” I took the ring of skeleton keys from around my belt. “I need the head on your shoulders, not the one in your pants.”
He scoffed. “Alright, alright. A fellow can window shop, can’t he?” He slipped around to the front of the iron box where the oxen were tied up. He began releasing them as I studied the lock chaining the wheels. Inside I heard a faint sound, but I knew it was there. Was the Gemling asleep? Surely it was. The more I looked at the lock to decide which skeleton key I could use, the more I heard sounds from within.
“What are you doing?” Arcus hissed. “I’ve got the oxen hooked back up. Get a move on, Bram!”
“Hush,” I snapped back. “I’m getting there.”
Arcus stuck his tongue out then took the seat at the front of the box. I selected my key, pushing it into the lock and freed the wheels. I took the chain, coiling it around my arm as I went to join Arcus.
“Get us out of here.”
Arcus tugged the reins, and as soon as the iron box began to move, there was shouting behind us. We ignored it, the rest of the group would take care of that which the wine didn’t. We drove off into the night, heading towards the hideout where the rest of the crew was waiting.
“What do you think it’ll be this time?” Arcus asked.
“Hard to say.” I leaned back in my seat. “I’m not raising my hopes much.”
Arcus scoffed. “We’ve got a diamond shitting creature in a box and you’re not raising your hopes? I’ll never understand you, Bram.”
“They don’t shit-” I scoffed and rolled my eyes. “I’m gonna rest my eyes for a while, Arcus. You can manage to get to the hideout right?”
“You’re testy.”
I opened my eyes to glare at him. “What was that?”
Arcus faced forward. “Nothing, darling, nothing.”
I slouched back, closing my eyes but not really sleeping. My mind was still plagued by how they had this iron box locked up and guarded. Most of the ones we had come across weren’t so under thumb. Not only that, each of the previous few had been duller than the last, but the Baron said he could shine them up. Still, from his demeanor I could tell he was not pleased.
We reached the hideout late in the evening and I had almost fallen asleep. I yawned and stretched as they loaded the iron box into the shed, watching as the doors close.
“Aren’t you going to open it?” Arcus asked.
“Maybe later. It’ll sit for now,” I said. “I need something to eat before I try and deal with the Gemling.”
We went inside and ate while the others dealt with the oxen. I helped myself to coffee and later taking off my coat, I spotted some dry scales on my arm. “Looks like I’ll need to shed soon.” I flaked off one of the scales and held it up to Arcus. “I’ll be a whole new Bram.”
Arcus grimaced and pulled away from my offering of a scale. “It’s so weird when you shed. I find your damn scales everywhere for days. It’s like finding toenails everywhere.”
I smirked, laughing at his insinuation. “My scales were worth something once, long ago.”
“Yeah, back when your family was more dragon than man. Now you’re just a lizard who stands on his hind legs.” Arcus scoffed at me.
I stole the meat from his plate and shoved it into my mouth. “Say that again and you won’t enjoy the bathhouse next time you visit.”
Arus pouted. “Was just a joke.”
I grinned at him and rose from the table. “I’m going to check on the Gemling. Make sure no one comes into the shed.” I went to a cabinet in the kitchen, taking out a wooden box.
“You got it.” Arcus went and poured himself more coffee as I left.
The shed was quiet, and the iron box was creaking as it settled into the ground. I took out my skeleton keys again, trying the lock on the door with a few before it cracked open. I set it aside, then opened the door up a crack.
“I’m not here to harm you,” I said to the Gemling inside. “I’m bringing you some food, I thought you might be hungry.”
“Who are you?” A small voice inside called out.
“My name is Bram.”
There was a moment of silence, a clinking of the stone inside the iron box. “Where am I? What happened to the guards?”
“They’re not here. I’m going to open the door now,” I told them. I managed to swing open the heavy cast iron door and light shone into the box. My stomach dropped as I saw the light reflected off the gemstone coating on the inside. It was all opal, shining between blue and green with small flecks of purple. The Gemling was huddled inside, smashed into the corner with their fingers covering the top of their head.
Opal, and not a brilliant opal at that. The Baron wouldn’t be pleased. I opened up the wooden box, showing it towards the Gemling. “Are you hungry? You can help yourself.”
The Gemling didn’t move. They appeared rather small and frail in shape. Their body was completely white, with patches of pale pink near the bottom of their limbs. Long white hair cascaded down their thin frame. Chunks of opal jutted from laces on their body, along their knuckles, elbows, and from the top of their head.
“I’ll set it here.” I placed the box down on the floor of their box. “You have no reason to worry. No one here is going to harm you. You’re a valuable asset to us.”
The Gemling uncovered their head, slowly turning towards me. Their eyes were near black, surrounded by polished beads of opal. “How so?”
“We’re going to sell you to a collector,” I replied.
The Gemling glanced down towards the box, their eyes widening with what was inside. They slowly began to reach out, and I saw they had a feminine form.
“What’s your name?” I asked.
“Nadione,” she said. She stretched out her arm, plucking out a piece of metal from inside. She hurriedly put it into her mouth and began chewing. She took out another piece before she had even swallowed and ate it as well.
“Eat all you want, we have more inside.”
Nadione looked up at me with those black eyes. Like most Gemling, she appeared both human and elemental at once. Her kind was a forced hybrid, an attempt to profit from her elemental heritage, but in a way to control them. Nadione however, appeared a little too human. Most Gemlings’ eyes were like gemstones, but Nadione’s appeared more human.
Nadoine’s chest was covered in opals, encrusted I should say. They formed around her breast and ribs like armor. I had not seen that before.
I gave Nadione a smile. “I promise, we have a nice supply of metal inside if you’re hungry. We’ll keep you well cared for until the Baron arrives to appraise you.”
She chewed slowly on the large bite in her mouth. She recoiled her hand, pulling her fingers into her palm in a weird almost magically slow way.
I looked around the iron box, layered in a thick opal coating that was meant to mimic her natural environment. It wasn’t bright or brilliant, even as the light hit it directly there was a dullness to the stones. One that I knew the Baron wouldn’t like. He had lots of opals anyways, I doubt he would want one more.
“Does he have mines?” Nadione asked.
I shook my head. “Not like the ones you are used to anyways. But like I said, he’s more of a collector than a miner.”
Nadione finished off the last of the metals in the box and she slowly made her way towards me. Her long hair fell into her face and she angrily swatted it away. Stepping down from inside, her feet touched the dirt and she made a sour expression. She did not stand as tall as the other Gemlings I had come across. Most were quite tall in stature, and the females bared more heft than Nadione did. Was she younger than the rest? More new? The Baron would know at first glance, I was still learning. But I knew Nadione would not catch his fancy.
I offered her my hand. “Right this way, my lady. I’ll take you to the kitchen to feed you some more.”
Nadione looked at my hand with a dull expression. She just nodded and I led the way into the kitchen. Arcus was still there and his eyes widened as Nadione stepped into the room.
“Not another opal!” He snapped.
Nadione glared at his direction, but stepped back towards the door as if to run to the safety of her box.
“Don’t say that while she is in the room,” I snapped at him. I fetched another meal box from the cabinet.
Arcus whined as he came into the room. He touched Nadione’s hair which she tensed and recoiled violently from. “She’s not even one of the good opals either! We’re sunk! We’re not gonna make any money from her.”
I frowned at him. “She’s right there and can hear you.” I held out the box. Nadione saw it in my hand and quickly hopped towards me. “As if you would fetch a pretty penny?” I scoffed at Arcus. Nadione was already plucking metal chips from inside like candy, happily munching away at them.
“She’s tiny,” Arcus said this with more awe than disappointment.
I leaned down to Nadione to whisper. “He’s heard that a few times himself.”
She stared blankly at me, but I did see a hint of a smile on her pretty lips. She shoved more of her food into her mouth. I enjoyed the way it sounded as she ate the metal. I never understood how gemling teeth worked, but their chewing sounded like boots on gravel.
“The Baron isn’t going to pay much for her,” Arcus sniffed. He walked up to us and Nadione grabbed the box from my hands and ducked behind me. “If at all. What did the inside of the iron box look like?” He asked.
“A bit dull,” I murmured.
Arcus whined, leaning back and dropping his shoulders. “Why have the last few sucked?” He flopped over into a seat and leaned against the table. “Are all the good ones under lock and key now?”
So he had noticed. “I’m going to take care of her. I’ll get her cleaned and polished for when the Baron arrives. Same for the box. I’m sure that’s all it needs too.”
“Jewelers,” Arcus scoffed at me. “Sometimes a rock is just a rock.”
I turned to face Nadione, pushing her towards the table so she would sit down. “How would you like that? There’s a mineral spring near here. You can wash up, relax a while, then I can give you a nice polishing.”
She eyed me, frowning at me while her cheeks were full. “A mineral spring?”
“It’s warm too, it comes right out of the mountain.” I pointed back towards the windows. “Dormant volcano I should say.”
Her eyes followed my finger then she looked away. “You’re not playing a trick on me, are you?”
I just laughed. “Why would I play a trick? Aren’t you used to being pampered like that? Gemlings require polishes in order to use their powers best. Right?”
Nadione looked back down into the box. She picked around, sifting what remained inside. She placed a few scraps on her tongue then gazed out the window. “Am I to use my powers?”
“Not for us. But, wouldn’t you like to look your best? Wouldn’t it feel better?” I gave her another smile and as I did a scale from my cheek flaked off and fell onto the table.
Nadione pushed the dropped scale with her finger then glanced back up at me.
“Way to make an impression on her,” Arcus chuckled.
I gave him the finger and returned my attention to Nadione. “Shedding,” I laughed, putting my hand to my cheek. “You know how it is.”
She sighed and slowly raised herself from the table. “Take me to the mineral springs if it is so important to you.”
I offered her my hand again, but she refused it, standing and walking behind me and I lead her from the hideout through the craggy path to the spring. When we reach the spring, which is a few pools and a tiny waterfall coming down from between the rocks, I notice a look in her eyes. As she sinks into the water, she stares down through the foggy liquid, her eyes focusing on something below.
“Take your time.” I said as I sat down. “Refresh yourself as much as needed. I know how those mines can be.”
She cut her dark eyes to me. “Do you?” She snipped.
Her tone and sharp look gave me pause. I know a few of the Gemlings had deep seated feelings towards the mines in one way or another. I just couldn’t pinpoint Nadione’s. “As a matter of fact, I do. My father was a miner.”
Nadione’s gaze softened but she didn’t respond. She looked back into the water and rose her knees up to her chest.
I sighed and leaned back against the rocks. “My mother was a jeweler. They were an odd match to be sure, even if their fields overlapped to a degree. But I learned everything I know from them.”
“Then you know what I am,” Nadione muttered in such a quiet tone I almost didn’t hear her over the water.
“A gemling?” I asked.
“Worthless,” she retorted. “I doubt your Baron would look twice at me. So whatever money you’re hoping to get, you won’t be able to wring it from me.”
I was quiet for a moment, thinking over everything I had already gone through in my head. “Then tell me something I don’t know, Nadione, why were you under such heavy guard if you’re worthless.”
Nadione’s hair floated on the surface of the water, and she kept shoving it away as if she couldn’t stand to look at it. “I’m a problem.”
I slipped down from the rocks and approached her pool, which she ducked under until only her eyes were showing.
Kneeling down before her, I gave her a soft smile. “As someone who literally causes problems for a living, I would like to hear about this, Nadione.”
She looked away from me, swimming over to the edge of the pool farthest from me. There she sat, only her eyes visible.
I just smiled and returned to my rock to sit. This would be the routine for the next few days while we waited on the Baron to arrive. As always, it was my job to take care of the Gemling. This meant feeding her, polishing her, doing whatever was needed to make her look her best for the Baron’s appraisal.
I was working on her one afternoon, I was using felt to buff some of the stones on her body. I had my kit out, which included wax, sandpaper, files, scissors, and various other tools I had been handed down from my mother. I turned away for one second to fetch some water and when I came back, Nadione had taken the sheers and was chopping viciously at her hair.
I clicked my tongue as I approached, listening to the snickering of the scissors as they snipped, snipped, snipped her hair into chunks.
“You could have asked,” I told her.
Nadione sat there amongst the remnants of her long hair, looking at the scissors in her hand. I took them from her then gently brushed away the scarps from her back and shoulders.
“These scissors aren’t good for cutting hair.” I took the scissors from her palm. Her hair had made knicks and chips in the blade. It was thin and light, but the strands were also extremely tough, like spun crystal. “Goodness, I’ll have to buy a new pair,” I chuckled.
Nadione glared off into the distance.
I looked around at the mess on the floor. Gemling hair took ages to grow, she would probably have short hair the rest of her life. But maybe that was her point. “Are you happy with your haircut?”
“Maybe,” she replied curtly.
I sighed and placed my tools back into the kit. “Arcus can fix your hair. But for now, can I trust you alone long enough so I can fetch a broom?”
Nadione twisted her head back to look up at me. “I did what I wanted.”
I smiled at her then set down a feeding box onto the table. She grabbed at it greedily, opening it up to the scarp and minerals inside. She was always so hungry, it caused some worry in me.
Nadione’s hair was fixed, sheared short to where it was like a fluff ball on top of her head. It suited her small stature nicely, and I’ll admit, it gave her a sort of regal appearance.
“What will you do with me when the Baron doesn’t want me?” Nadione asked one day as we walked towards the mineral springs.
“You seem certain he’s not going to take you,” I said.
“He won’t.” Nadione was talking to me more and more each day. “So I want to be prepared for what is going to become of me when you can’t make money off me.”
I hummed under my breath. It hadn’t happened before, but we had discussed at some point, should the Baron not make a purchase, we could always ransom the gemling back. But considering a few factors I gleaned, I’m not sure we’d make much money doing that.
“There’s a few things that could happen. Though I’m not sure what we would do. Depends on how much of a problem you were to your previous owner.”
Nadione pushed me against the rock wall of the path and held me there despite her small size. Not that I was going to fight her or anything.
Her eyes were wide and endless. Inside them I could not see much, just my own reflection and the rocks behind me held a certain glow. “You would just give me back?” She hissed.
I shook my head and raised up my hands. “No, no, no. Not just give. We have to make some money back.”
Nadione’s eyes widened, her whole body tensed. There was a light behind her black eyes and it gave me a sudden pause. I took a step back and the rock wall was close to my shoulders.
“You would be better off hacking me up into parts and selling what I am made of!” She shoved me again, removing her hands then just standing there.
I rubbed my palm to my back where the rock had jabbed me. “Considering you’re malnourished, I wouldn’t offer to ransom you back anyways.”
She glared at me, crossing her arms against her chest.
I stepped away from the wall, rubbing my shoulders where it still stung. I watched Nadione, evading my gaze, turning herself away. She didn’t want to be looked at, she didn’t want to be perceived at all. That’s how she had always been.
“A lot of Gemlings are. I’ve seen maybe a handful treated well by the owners. Most Gemlings rely on miners for the brunt of their meals.” I stepped towards her, offering my hand again. “That’s what my dad used to tell me anyways.”
Nadione looked at my hand and then turned herself away again. “The miners were kind. They were hard workers. I would sooner work with them than ever go back to bleeding the mine dry for people who would never understand-” her voice cut off.
I smiled, I finally got something out of her. I could understand her though, and that was what I had wanted all this time. “So that’s why you’re a problem. You stole from the rich to give to the poor. I like that.” I smiled and Nadione returned it tentatively.
“The miners deserved it more.” She then clutched at her chest, over the armor on her chest. “We would trade.”
“So you would get better food?”
Nadione let out a tired, weary sigh and nodded her head. She tilted her head up, looking at the dormant volcano standing over us. I followed her gaze, wondering what she must be thinking. Volcanoes were home to her kind, her ancestors really. I’m sure it called to her like all the others.
“How many other Gemlings have you stolen?” She asked in a small, quiet voice.
I counted in my head, thinking back on those that had been sold to the Baron. “Quite a few. We’ve been working for the Baron a while now.”
“And why work for him? If your father was a miner, and your mother a jeweler, why are you working for him?”
I sighed heavily. “Because they’re gone.”
Nadione’s sharp eyes softened.
I shrugged. “Both of them died when I was young. A dust from the mine-” I stopped a second, still a bit callous at the memory. “A dust from mine made a lot of people in the village sick. Arcus and I grew up together, and we both decided to join when we had nothing else.”
“I’m sorry.” She continued walking, taking the lead up to the mineral spring.
“You didn’t cause the dust, did you?” I followed up close behind her. “Besides, I’m sure you know a thing or two about it.”
Nadione turned back and looked at me confused.
I smiled at her, although I’m sure it turned out sadder than I intended. “Losing your family.”
She clenched her jaw and then stepped down into the water.
“Most Gemlings don’t get a chance for family. I know.” I sighed and sat down in my usual place. “Interbreeding became illegal. But people kept doing it regardless. Greed makes people do cruel things.”
Nadione ducked her head underwater and she didn’t rise up again for a long time. It was fine, the quiet was nice even if the tears were welling up.
She raised from the water as I was wiping my eyes. “Bram?”
I sniffled and sat up. “Yes, Nadione?”
“I’m sorry,” she whispered. “You’ve been kind to me, but so have many others in the past.” Her eyes darted down to the ground. “I shouldn’t have pushed you.”
I smiled. “There’s no need to apologize. After all, I’m basically your kidnapper.”
She shook her head and dunked back under water.
The following day I was working on Nadione’s box. I had taken off most of my clothes, as it was getting hot and exhaustive, brushing and scrubbing between each stone, rinsing, polishing, washing everything inside was exhaustive.
Nadione sat nearby, watching me as I cleaned what was essentially her home. She looked tense, but she wasn’t saying anything.
I stepped out at one point, wiping my brow and sighing heavily. “You’ve done some good work in there. Very nice layering. I’ve never seen a crust so thick in one of these.”
Her brow pinched.
“I mean it,” I chuckled. I pointed inside. “Lots that I've taken care of form clusters in the corners so everything has to move to the middle of the box.” I smoothed my hand over her opal crusting. “But you’ve made these sheets, these levels that bring you room all around. Very smart.”
Nadione pressed her lips tightly together. “Thanks.” I noticed her look over me, her eyes resting on my chest before she looked back into her home. “That's all I’ve got.”
I patted the side of the iron container. “What else would you have?” I asked.
Her eyes flicked back to me. “What?”
“What else would you want?” I smiled, picking up the water to splash over the wall to clean it off.
“I uh-” she looked pensive and confused. “I’m not…I would-”
“A cave somewhere?” I tossed the water inside and the grimy suds and dirt washed away. The opals were still dull, but they were much brighter than before. “I’ve seen dugouts that were nice too.”
Nadione is silent while I finish up the cleaning, picking up my tools and washing them by hand.
“Somewhere near the mountains,” she said as I came by her again. “Like here.” I followed her gaze up towards the volcano.
I looked back at her, her pensive stare but soft eyes. “Who knows,” I replied, “-maybe there are elementals in that volcano hiding. Have you ever seen one?”
“One,” Nadione’s voice choked as she said it. “A long, long, time ago.”
I sat down near her on the bench and rubbed my bare chest, scratching off some dry scales. “I never have. I’ve been told all of them have gone into deep hiding, into places where mortals can’t even breathe.”
She nodded. “That’s good.”
“How did you see one?”
Nadione looked away from the mountain and stood. She went to her box and stepped inside. It was still wet, but she sat down and curled up against the wall. Her fingers stroked the opals inside, and she looked at peace.
“I was little then. Young and still being watched over by my mother.” She pulled her knees up to her chest. “He burst in and took me and my mother.”
Every fiber of me went still and quiet. The tension in the air was like razors that were pressing against my flesh, cold and hungry for blood.
“I woke up in a box.” her hand kept stroking the wall. “No one would talk to me. No one would look at me.”
I stood at the door of her box leaning there. I reached inside, placing my hand atop of her head.
“Even though I was young, they put me to work soon after that.” Nadione pushed my hand away, but kept a hold of it.
“I understand,” I murmured.
Nadione squeezed then released my hand. “I know you do.”
We received word the Baron was on his way, in a few days he’d arrive and Nadione’s fate would be decided. My stomach churned, making me a mix of nauseous and irritated. I laid in bed, thinking about what would happen if he decided to take her. It was my least favorite thought. I much preferred to think of what would happen if the Baron didn’t buy her. The idea of keeping her swelled in my chest, but I could never afford to pay for her on my own.
I fell asleep, but I was woken by someone shaking me. I swatted, rolling over so my back was turned to them.
“Bram. Bram!”
“Arcus, stop, I told you I’m not into that anymore,” I grumbled.
My shoulder was shaken once again. “It’s not Arcus.”
I rolled back over, looking at Nadione kneeling on my bed. “What?” I sat up and rubbed my eyes to make sure I wasn’t dreaming. “Nadione, what are you doing here?”
It was still dark out, but the moon was powerful in the sky. “I want to go to the mineral spring.”
I grunted, rubbing my eyes as I was still waking up. “It’s late.”
“I know.” Her intense whisper made the back of my neck tickle. “Please? Can we go, Bram?”
I yawned and stretched. “Fine I suppose.”
Nadione hopped up in excitement, rushing outside ahead of me then running up the path as I followed sluggishly and sleepily behind. The moonlight reflected off her opals in a way the sun didn’t. She looked brighter and far more lustrous than before. I smiled, content with the scene ahead of me, even if I was woken unceremoniously.
“I prefer the night,” Nadione said.
“Do you?” I yawned.
She stopped and turned to face me on the path. “It's quieter. Colder.”
I scratched at my face, feeling some scales come loose. “Is that why you wanted to come out now?”
“That and-” Nadione went still. She gazed into my eyes then looked away only to look back again. “And I didn’t want anyone knowing where we were.”
I chuckled. “Why? Are you going to kill me and run away?”
“No!” She snapped, offended. “Never.” She stepped up close to me. “I want to be alone with you, Bram. Very, very alone.” She placed her hands upon my chest.
“Why would you want to be alone with-” It clicked. “Oh!”
Nadione put her arms around me, resting her head upon my chest. “You asked me what I wanted.”
I slowly put my arms around her in return. “I’m stunned.”
She nuzzled her cheek to my chest and sighed with relief. She then smiled. “Your heart is going so fast.”
I chuckled. “Well, yeah…of course it is. I have an amazing beautiful girl holding me and taking me out to be alone at night.”
Her laughter was beautiful, I had never heard it before. She stepped back from and knelt down onto the ground. She plucked my scales from the earth and blew the dirt from them. The opal armor on her chest opened up, revealing a cavity inside. There I saw brilliant gemstones and gold, and several of my scales. She tucked them away inside, closing her armor back.
My heart was pounding so hard I could hear it in my ears. My throat tightened up and my gut twisted as she returned her gaze to me. “Ah, I see, you have a special hiding place.”
Nadione took my hand. “Even though I’m worthless, you’ve still treated me like I am priceless.” Nadione shook her head. “Your Baron is not going to buy me. And I will die before I go back to my old owner. I would rather go to the mines and work off my debt there. I will buy myself. My powers may not be as strong as they used to be, but I can still make beautiful gems!”
I squeezed her hand tight. “You are beautiful.”
The moon shone off the tears on her cheek.
I touched Nadione’s cheek, wiping away her tears, and she shivered as a response. “We would have to keep a close eye on you if you did that.”
Nadione’s eyes fluttered and she closed her eyes. “That’s your job, is it not?”
I knelt down, placing a small, soft kiss upon her lips. She grabbed hold me, forcefully keeping me in place. She kissed me, desperate yet earnest with her desire. Gemlings, as hybrids between elementals and humans, usually did not mate and were not known to reproduce. But I had heard stories of Gemlings taking miners as lovers during their work. Although most were bawdy rumors, my father had once told me a Gemling from his mine and a friend of his took on as lovers, only able to meet in the deepest parts of the mine.
Nadione led me to the springs where she removed my clothes and brought me into the water with her. The moonlight made the water glow, much like Nadione’s own opals. She took hold of me, kissing me and pressing herself to my body. My scales began to float on top of the water as they came off. The more Nadione polished me, the more that arose.
“You don’t have to do this,” I panted.
“I want to. I never get to do what I want!” Nadione stood up over me in the water, spreading her legs slightly so I could see between. Her mound had a line of opals, leading to one that jutted out from between, a drop of viscous liquid plopped into the water from the tip. I pulled her in closer, having her stand more over me. I smoothed up her thigh, cupping between her legs. Nadione moaned, and placed her hands upon my shoulders.
The protruding gem at the top led down, fading inside her where her opening was dark purple, inside she was moist, dripping that viscous fluid that shimmered upon my fingertips. I tugged her even closer, pressing my mouth against her. She cried out, shivering as my tongue lapped around her and my finger pressed inside.
“Bram-” she whimpered. “Keep touching me. Only touch me.”
I moaned against her, knowing the vibrations would feel good. She tasted like fresh water from a stream, earthy and delicate. I pressed deeper, wanting her to feel more, to have my touch all around her.
Nadione yanked away, falling back into the water. We looked at one another for a moment until Nadione paddled back to me. She sat upon my lap, kissing me hard while reaching underwater. She gasped, pulling her hand back once she found me.
“What?” I asked.
She grabbed hold of my cock again, looking confused.
A pit formed in my belly. “Is everything alright?”
“You’re huge,” Nadione whispered. “Like a dragon.”
I chuckled, taking hold of her hand around me and moving it slowly. “If I’m too big, you don’t have to force yourself.”
“It’s not that. I’m just surprised.” Nadione looked into my eyes. “You’re so sweet, I wasn’t expecting it.”
I laughed. “What does being sweet have to do with my size?”
“Most are too proud, at least, from what I have seen.” Nadione rose over me, straddling my lap. “I should be able to take you though.”
She eased my tip inside and I felt small bumps already. The opals inside her would be small and smooth, but they would work towards my own pleasure. At least, from the rumors I had heard.
“Have you ever done this before?” I breathed.
Nadione looked down bashfully. “Never with one so…big-” She gasped loudly as she took me inside. “Never a dragon.”
I was shaking all over, pleasure, nerves, and happiness were fighting it, overwhelming my body. Nadione felt so good, I was worried I would blow at any second.
Nadione whimpered, sitting still and clinging around me. Her eyes were glazed over, almost hazy as she tried to think her way through this.
“Are…are you okay?” I breathed.
Nadione looped her arms around my neck, kissing me lovingly while swirling her hips. “Did you know, when dragons created the world, they made the elementals as their first lifeform?” She kissed me again. “The elementals worshiped the dragons and believed mating with them would make their kind more powerful.”
I swallowed and took a breath to center myself. “Are you saying we were made for each other?”
Nadione smiled and continued to move, bouncing up and down upon me, each thrust easier than the last. I can’t tell you how long we were there, or how much I indulged Nadione in what she wanted. But it became our routine, our new version of polishing if you will.
When the Baron arrived my certainty that he would deny Nadione had weakened. I now worried he might buy her and take her away. My feelings for Nadione had grown, and all this time I had fallen for her.
I fetched Nadione from her box that morning in order to prepare her for the appraisal. We were both silent, both going through the day as we had when I first started taking care of her. I polished her and bathed her, making extra sure to touch every inch of her I could.
I rested my head upon her shoulder and she touched the back of my head. “I have your scales beside my heart,” she whispered. “I will keep them there as long as I live.”
“And what do I have of you?” I asked. “Besides my memory.”
Nadione stood to face me. She opened up her chest and from within took out an opal so brilliant it glowed with the radiance of the sun. It was warm as she placed it into my hand.
“My first creation. My most brilliant work. A piece of my soul.” She folded my hand around it. “If I am taken-”
“Lets hope you aren’t,” I hissed. “You were so sure before. What’s changed?”
Nadione rested her head upon my chest. “A lot.”
There was a ruckus from outside as the Baron arrived. I took a deep breath as fear poured through my limbs like cold water. I put Nadione in the center of the room and stood aside as the Baron walked in.
“Well let's see what you lot have brought me this time!” He said with a laugh and smile. He then saw Nadione there. His expression changed and he took out his glasses. “You’re an older one.”
I frowned. Older? What did he mean older?
The Baron took Nadione’s arm and extended it out. “Quite small, means you’ve been around for a long time. Worn out, aren’t you?” he said with a playful laugh.
Nadione remained quiet.
“Just an opal,” the Baron tutted. “Seeing more and more of those these days.” He lifted up Nadione’s chin and opened her mouth. “Good teeth at least.”
My guts churned with nerves and spite. I didn’t like the way he was touching her so casually!
“You fellows usually do a good job. This one is a rare one for her age, but that comes with a lot of caveats and limitations.” The Baron stepped away from Nadione, giving her a once over. “I’m afraid she won’t suit my collection.”
I was relieved, but with that brought on a new wave of stress over what the rest of the group would agree to do with her.
“I would suggest keeping her though,” the Baron said thoughtfully. “She may be old, her powers limited, but she can still produce in the mines where her powers would be strongest.” He nodded as if agreeing with himself. “And having that dormant volcano so close by, you could probably get the most of her powers. Have her work for her keep.”
I stepped closer. “Are you sure?”
The Baron shrugged. “You won’t get much for her I’m afraid. And I have more opal Gemlings than I know what to do with. She could at least bring you in some form of money from whatever she can mine herself. Not much, not worth my time.”
My heart was sputtering fast while the rest of the crew whispered and talked amongst themselves.
“We’ll take her to the mine tomorrow and see what she can do,” Arcus spoke up. “If she can produce something worthwhile we’ll make her part of the crew.” He glanced towards me and gave me a wink. That idiot knew this whole time!
That evening, I stole Nadione from her iron box and took her to the spring. The water glowed as she approached. She smiled at me, prancing happily as she reveled in her newly gained freedom.
“The gemlings you have taken care of told me all about you,” she said. “But I had to wait and see for myself if it was true.”
My brow furrowed. “What do you mean?”
Nadione reached into the water and when she pulled her hand out it was full of gemstones. “They left these every time you brought one of us here. We communicate through them, leaving messages we can translate. You could never see them through the foggy water.” She handed me the gemstones. “I can deliver the message in person from now on, so you can keep these.”
I placed the gemstones onto the ground then wrapped Nadione up in my arms. “You’re all I wanted.”
Nadione held me back, nuzzling her face into my chest. “You’re not worried I am so old?”
“No. More surprised than anything.” I looked down at her, cupping her cheek into my palm. “I thought you were young.”
“Gemlings are taller the older they are. They wear away over time.” Nadione smiled up at me. “But I can still take my dragon.”
I kissed her, not worrying anymore about where she will go or what will become of her. In the morning, she ran into the mine to greet the miners who celebrated. They had heard word of her kidnapping and had been wracked with grief. She had saved many of them, given many of the best gems she found to them. She was happy in the mine, and I was happy to spend each day there with her.
“You don’t mind it down here?” She asked me one day.
I shook my head. “Dragons enjoy their caves.”
Nadione smiled, handing me some of the gems she had found in the earth. “I can’t give you a hoard.”
“It’s not what I want anyways, Nadione,” I chuckled, packing the gems away with the others. “I don’t need gems to sleep upon. Nor do I need gold to be fulfilled.”
Nadione’s eyes glowed in the depths of the cave and I could see her smile inside. She gave me a kiss, which was all I really wanted anyways.
This is an experiment to see if there really are as few of us as people think.You can also use this to freak out your followers who think you’re 25 or something. Yay!
Have some very queer turtles in celebration. Flags and individual portraits under the cut!
All of these flags are representative of my personal headcanons for the turtles.
Here's Raph with the bigender flag on his mask and one of the alternate lesbian flags in his hand.
Here's Mikey! He's got the polyamorous flag as a cape and the pan flag in hand, and the sign has the updated Gilbert Baker flag.
And last but not least, Leo and Donnie! Leo has the gay men pride flag on his mask, the transgender flag as a cape, and the demiromantic flag in his hand. Donnie has the nonbinary flag as his mask and the bi flag in hand.
Bucky didn't believe in love at first sight. Then he met you.
Pairing - Bucky Barnes x female reader
Warnings - None
Word Count - 3615
Author's Note - hello gorgeous people, hope you're all doing well. writing this has made my heart so full, and I hope it makes you feel the same. requests are always open and more than encouraged!! currently working on a stunning jake seresin request that's just so lovely. i'm SO open to more jake requests, but also any marvel, top gun maverick, criminal minds, narcos and any others you have in mind!! just send them over, and I'll see what I can do. as always, so much love x
Masterlist. Requests.
“No way. How is that even possible?”
You look at the bewildered man in front of you and can’t help but smile.
“It’ll play anything you want it to. Anything in the world. Just ask it!” you encourage, beaming grin still plastered on your face.
“Alexa,” he says tentatively, “play Marvin Gaye.”
The first notes of Trouble Man begin to sound through your apartment, and his eyes light up. He’s looking at you like you’ve discovered something completely revolutionary.
You laugh – a real, genuine, delighted sound that flows through Bucky like a beam of light, illuminates his bones, makes his heart beat that little bit faster.
Grabbing your notebook, you delicately place a check next to Number 26 – voice-controlled devices. Number 27 is air fryers. Number 28 is Bluetooth. Number 29 is kindles and e-readers. Number 30 is Doordash. You’ve already checked off Spotify, and ATMs, and Google, and online banking, amongst many others. A list of things to better integrate Bucky into the 21st Century. A list of things to make him feel less like a man out of time. A list of things that allow you to spend all the time with him that you can.
A warm hand on your left hip and a cold one on your right pull you back into reality.
“Dance with me.” he murmurs. “Let me teach you something, for once.”
Before you can process his words, he’s gliding across the kitchen with you in his arms. Trouble Man isn’t playing anymore, instead replaced with something slower, richer. Bucky hasn’t taken his eyes off you, not even for a second. He’s watching your every move, every expression, every twitch of your lips. Reading you like a book.
You bring your hands to rest around his neck, and he relaxes into you. He’s leading, swaying you gently, occasionally twirling you like a ballerina in a music box. Perfectly effortless. He’s good at this.
The sun is setting, casting a warm orange hue across the kitchen. The light is reflecting onto your hair, making you glow, giving you a halo. Angelic, he thinks. My guardian angel.
You close the space between your bodies, wrapping your arms around his middle. Resting your head on his chest, he prays you can’t hear how his heart is working overtime. You shut your eyes, and breathe him in. He smells faintly like the Bakery, like sugar and coffee and cinnamon. The place that started it all.
⋆ . ✵ ⋆ . ✵ ⋆ . ✵ ⋆ . ✵
When Bucky first moved into his apartment, he’d noticed the Bakery down the street immediately. The smell of cake and coffee drifted out of the lilac colored door, enticing him in. He resisted the urge, and told himself that he’d go inside tomorrow.
The next day, he stood outside of the red brick building, and read the menu on the noticeboard carefully. Then he reread it. And then read it again. Since when was coffee so complicated? And don’t even get him started on cake. He swore there was only a few types back in the forties. Now, there was at least fifty different kinds on this menu alone. He was overwhelmed. He thought he’d be able to walk into this Bakery, get some coffee, maybe something sweet, and leave content. Instead, he's stood on the sidewalk on the verge of a panic attack. Tomorrow, he thinks to himself. I’ll go in tomorrow.
Tomorrow never comes. Every day, he takes a walk, and purposely passes the building that he longs to go into. But somehow, he can never find the courage. He knows he’ll just look like an idiot if he walks in. He’ll look lost, and out of place, and everyone will laugh and mutter. Look, they’ll jeer, The Winter Soldier can’t even order a coffee.
And so, he spares himself the pain. Lets his feet carry him past, only slowing down slightly when he passes the lilac door. Every day for three months, he takes the same route. Willing himself to go in, to find the courage. It’s just coffee, he tells himself. Get a grip.
Until, one day, you decided to change his life, unknowingly. Or maybe knowingly. He’s still not sure.
He takes his usual path, and just as he gets to the lilac door – you’re there. Stood, waiting, soft smile on your face. Bucky panics, and wills his feet to move faster, to take him away from this inevitably awkward situation. You stop him before he can make a run for it.
“Hi.”
Oh. You’re talking to him. You’re staring into his soul with no judgment, or fear, or trepidation. You’re staring into his soul with gentleness. Kindness. Friendship. He’s terrified.
“Uh – hi.” He rubs the back of his neck. Nervous habit.
“So, uh, I hope this isn’t weird, or anything. But, I’ve been watching you walk past every day for like three months, and, well…” you trail off. Now you look nervous. “Actually, I haven’t really thought this far ahead. I just see you, and I wanted to… invite you in, I guess? Not that you need an invite, of course not, we’re open to everyone, but… you always look like you’re going to come in, and then you never do. And I’ve been telling myself for months that I should properly invite you in, but now I’m realising this is, uh, really weird. And I’m sorry.”
You still have that gentle smile on your face, but it’s more tentative now. A dusting of pink is making its way onto your cheeks, and Bucky thinks it might be his new favourite color.
It’s now that he really starts to take you in. Your hair is blowing slightly in the breeze, and the sleeves of your sweater are pulled down over your wrists, to try and keep the New York chill at bay. You have bright, inquisitive eyes – eyes that contain hope, love, laughter. You make him feel almost peaceful. No one makes him feel like that. Damn.
You’ve stepped closer to him now, to get out of the way of the customers making their way through the door. You smell like sugar, and coffee, and optimism. He wants to breathe you in, let you settle in his lungs. A comfortable warmth spreads through his chest.
He decides to take a gamble and bear his truth to you. He’s not sure why, but he trusts you. He doesn’t trust anyone, these days. But he trusts you.
“Can I be honest with you?”, he asks, looking at you expectantly. You’re almost expecting him to laugh in your face at the absurdity of it all. You nod anyway, signalling for him to continue.
“I’ve been trying to work up the courage to come in. But every time I try, I just, uh-” he stutters, and you can tell that his mind is screaming at him, sounding alarm bells, begging him to stop with all this sudden vulnerability.
“It’s overwhelming, right?” you ask, cutting him off. Saving him. Guardian angel.
You see the relief in his body at your question. His fists unclench, the tension leaves his shoulders. He smiles bashfully. Half grateful, half embarrassed. You get it.
“Yeah,” he chuckles. You giggle, and he’s convinced that the melodious sound will circle around in his mind forever, like the Earth orbiting the Sun.
You fiddle with the strings of your mint green apron, and look at him. You’re gazing at him so earnestly that he’s worried he might spontaneously combust.
“Are you busy tonight?” you ask suddenly, and he feels so dizzy he’s concerned momentarily that he’s going to pass out.
“Uh, no. I’m not,” he replies, managing to force the words out of his mouth.
“We close at 6, so meet me here at 7.”
You still have that sparkle in your eye. He couldn’t say no to you if he tried.
“Why?” he queries. He’d be lying if he said he wasn’t absolutely petrified at the turn the conversation has taken.
“I want to show you around. Maybe make you a coffee, introduce you to some of my favourite things. You won’t believe how good my raspberry and white chocolate cookies are. They’re best sellers for a reason,” you beam at him.
Beaming. He wonders how he’s lived his whole life without your light illuminating his universe. Anywhere he goes without you is going to feel so dark, he thinks. How did I ever live like this?
He manages to pull himself together to smile back at you. His first genuine grin in God knows how long. He’s forgotten what joy feels like, and he’s almost drunk on it now.
He agrees to your plan, and you turn on your heel, about to make your way back inside.
“Wait!” he yells, louder than intended. “What’s your name?”
Your lips turn up into a smirk, mischief seeping out of your pores.
“Come back at 7 and find out.” You wink at him, and he has to take a few deep breaths in order to stay conscious. With that, you leave him alone on the sidewalk, where he’s silently thanking the universe for dropping you in his lap. Finally, he thinks. The cosmic punishment is over.
He does come back at 7. In fact, he’s stood outside waiting at 6:45. He can see you mopping the floor, singing as you go. His supersoldier hearing allows him to listen to your voice, even from this far away. He’s never been more grateful for the thing he used to call a curse. He’d be cursed every damn day if it meant he got to listen to you like this.
At 6:58, you appear at the lilac door, beckoning him to follow you inside. He knows that stepping over that threshold is going to change him fundamentally. He can’t wait.
Upon entering, he’s hit with the smell of cinnamon, sugar, coffee, and you. A beautiful mix of all three. Without a second thought, he reaches out with his right hand, and gently brushes some flour from your cheekbone.
“Bucky,” he murmurs.
You can’t tear your eyes away from him. Lips slightly parted, chest heaving, it takes you a minute to register that he spoke.
“What?” you ask, dazed by the handsome stranger with the steel blue eyes.
“My name,” he speaks softly. “It’s Bucky.”
You smile knowingly, and take a deep breath. It’s overwhelming, meeting someone that you know is going to be in your life forever. You’re both feeling the same, neither of you sure just quite what to do.
You grab his left hand, sighing quietly in relief at the feeling the cool metal against your heated skin. Leading him gently, he lets you guide him through the front of the store, until you stop behind the counter. He’s convinced he’d let you lead him anywhere, as long as he gets to feel your skin, soft and warm, on his. Grounding. Comforting. Easy.
“What kind of milk do you like?” you ask, fingers still intertwined with his.
“There’s more than one kind of milk?”
Bucky looks so disorientated, that you want to kiss the confused expression off his face. You chuckle softly, and the sound bounces off the metal in the room, twinkling around him.
“We have cows’ milk, oat milk, almond milk and soy milk.” You take one look at him, and decide to change course. “Let’s start with something less complex, actually. Any allergies I should know about?”
He shakes his head, mischievous grin beginning to form on his handsome face. There he is, you think. He’s with me.
“I’m going to make you a latte. It’s milky, and not too strong or too sweet. I think you’ll like it.”
She thinks I’ll like it, he muses. And he trusts you - whether it be with his life, or just a cup of coffee.
You reluctantly let go of his hand, and begin to flit around, gathering everything you need. Bucky leans back against the counter and watches carefully. He watches the way you bite your lip when you measure out the milk. He watches the way the steam from the coffee machine blows your hair back from your face gently. He watches the way you’re trying to make everything perfect. He can’t remember the last time someone paid attention to him like this. His mind is telling him to sprint in the opposite direction, to excuse himself and never come back. He’s terrified. But he stays. I deserve this, he thinks. I deserve something good.
You pull him from his thoughts by handing him the mug of warm coffee. He takes it from you carefully, and, without breaking eye contact, takes a sip. He smiles, really smiles. That’s all the validation you needed.
“Let me show you where we bake everything,” you say quietly, as if you’re afraid to burst this bubble of warmth and trust you’ve created. You’re scared he’s going to bolt if you give him the chance. So, you don’t. You take his hand once more, and guide him through to the kitchen.
“Have you done much baking in your life, Bucky?”
No, he thinks. But I will. I’ll bake everyday for the rest of my life if it means you’ll love me. If you’ll make me coffee and smile at me like that.
Instead, he answers cautiously.
“Not really. I’d like to, though.” He adds that last part bashfully. You smile back at him earnestly.
“Well then you’re in the right place,” you wink. He has the overwhelming urge to drop to his knees. To pray at your altar. To worship you like an angel sent down just for him. He’s surprised he’s still stood on two feet.
Before he can even register what’s happening, you’re beginning to create a mixture for your infamous cookies. You direct him to stir, while you add meticulously measured ingredients into the bowl.
“Put those arms to good use,” you’d smirked, and a blush had risen up to his cheeks almost instantly.
You click the radio on, and a soft, jazzy melody begins to drift through the room. You’re humming quietly, gliding around the kitchen, and he decides that this is it for him. You’re it for him. He could watch you do this every day and die a happy man.
Cookies baking in the oven, you jump up to sit on one of the counters. Bucky moves to stand in between your legs, still being careful to keep his distance ever so slightly. He knows if he touches you, he won’t ever want to let go.
“This wasn’t as scary as I thought it was going to be,” he confesses.
“What, me?” you tease.
“No. Coffee. And cookies,” he chuckles.
“Are there lots of things that you haven’t done because you find them scary?” you ask genuinely. You want to know him. All of him. Fears, wants, quirks. All of it.
“Yeah, actually. The world is so different now. I don’t really know where to start. It’s all terrifying, honestly,” he laughs. You laugh with him, but you know there’s truth to his words. You want to wrap your arms around him. He may be 6 foot tall and made of solid muscle and vibranium, but you want to protect him.
“Why don’t we do it together?”
A pause. He’s confused again.
“Do what together?”
“All of it. The learning. I’ll help you. Everything is less scary if you do it with someone else.”
It’s now that he’s convinced he’s dreaming. You can’t be real. Why would you be here, offering him everything, after all that he’s done? He has to remind himself. I deserve this. I deserve something good.
You can sense his trepidation, so you keep talking.
“Why don’t we make a list? You write down the things you want to learn about. I’ll write down other things I think you should know. You’ll be an expert on the 21st Century before long, Buck.”
Buck. The nickname sounds like a gift coming from your lips.
“Okay. Yeah. Are you sure you don’t mind?”
The anxiety is coming off him in waves. He’s panicking. You grab a hold of both of his hands, and place one on each of your legs, just above your knees. He steps in closer, and takes a breath. You’re warm, and you’re soft, and you’re love personified. He’s okay.
“Of course I don’t mind. I’m excited!” you assure him. Then, quieter, “It means I get to spend more time with you.”
He aims a beaming, megawatt smile in your direction. He feels as if his nerve endings are alight. You’ve awoken something in him. He’d forgotten what it was like to feel like this. To feel alive.
You reach over and grab your notebook. In it, you simply write his name, followed by a love heart. Then, underneath, you begin to list everything you can think of that you want to teach him. You hand the list to him, and he adds his own requests. Between you, you manage to write 50 different lessons.
“Perfect. We’ll start with number one, and work our way down. Are you busy tomorrow evening?”
He chuckles at your eagerness, but secretly, he can’t wait. He knows he’ll be counting down the hours until he can see you again.
“Nope, I’m not. You are my only priority, sweetheart.”
The term of endearment seeps into your skin, settles in your ribcage. You’re convinced it’ll warm you up from the inside out. If he keeps calling you sweetheart in that Brooklyn drawl of his, you’ll never be cold again.
⋆ . ✵ ⋆ . ✵ ⋆ . ✵ ⋆ . ✵
You’re not sure if you’ve been swaying in your kitchen with Bucky to Marvin Gaye for 2 minutes or 2 hours. You’re comfortably settled into him, as if the space in his arms was made especially for you. Maybe it was.
Bucky’s voice breaks through the solitude.
“You know, I’ve created my own list,” he murmurs against the top of your hair, where he’s resting his head.
You pull back, still in his arms, to look at him carefully.
“Oh yeah?”
“Yeah. Read it, and tell me what you think.”
He untangles himself from you and crosses the room, to retrieve his leather-bound notebook. He returns, and places it carefully in your awaiting hands.
You flick open the cover to reveal the first page. You recognise his handwriting instantly. It’s spiralling, and imperfect, but so Bucky. At the top of the page, you spot the title – your name, with a love heart next to it. Exactly the same as you’d done for him when you’d originally created your list together.
Underneath your name, only one thing is written.
I love you.
You look up at him, to see him watching you, holding his breath. Neither of you know what to say. You know what you want to say. You want to tell him that you hope the list never ends, so you always have an excuse to spend time with him. You want to tell him that you watched him walk past the door of the Bakery every day for 3 months because you thought he was the most beautiful person you’d ever seen. You want to tell him that every time he looks at you, you feel as if you’re going to pass out. You want to tell him that you can recognise him anywhere, by touch or smell alone. Instead, you say,
“You do?”
That genuine, million dollar smile is back, etched on his face. He’s glowing, light radiating from his bones.
“Yes. I do. I think I’ve loved you ever since I saw you waiting for me on the doorstep of the Bakery that day.”
You think you might be floating. Levitating above ground, fuelled by love. You laugh.
“That’s the exact moment I fell in love with you.”
He laughs with you, then. You could get drunk off the sound.
“I didn’t think love at first sight was a real thing. I thought I was going crazy,” he confesses.
He’s convinced that the two of you have discovered something, invented it even. Because he doesn’t understand. If love feels like this, so all encompassing, so consuming – how does anyone live? Every moment of every day, Bucky thinks of you. How does anyone go to work? How does anyone ever feel sad, or angry, when love like this exists?
You drop the notebook and cross the room to him. He closes the gap, and throws his arms around you, spinning you in circles, laughing with joy. He sets you back on your feet, and tilts your chin up, so you’re looking into his steel blue eyes. You could drown in the ocean of his irises if he let you.
He leans down, and presses his lips to yours. He’s giving you all of the love, the joy, the laughter – everything good that he has ever felt, because of you – through his kiss. Your knees go weak, and he holds you up by your waist, his strong arms encircling your frame. He tastes like coffee, and sugar, and promises. You’ll never want to taste anything else.
Eventually, you break away for air. You gaze up at him, and he sees sunshine in your eyes. He’s not sure what he did to earn a love like this. You seem to sense his doubts creeping in, because you say, in the most assured voice he’s ever heard –
“No one has ever loved anyone as much as I love you.”
I deserve this, he thinks. I deserve something good.
