head over heels over head || James Potter x shy!Reader
James has always been quite certain you, along with anyone else in possession of eyes or ears, know he's madly in love with you. apparently, though, he needs to make himself clearer. he's more than glad to accommodate.
warnings: mention of alcohol/drinking (college!muggle!au). fem!reader - reader is described as having long-er hair and wearing a skirt. fluff!
James is thrumming with the momentum of being near you. It’s a gentle push and pull he’s been leaning into – knowing you – softer than he’s used to being. He came on a touch too strong at first, saw the way your eyes flashed with uncertainty when the first name he called you was ‘gorgeous’, and slipped into the gentle lapping waves of watching instead.
You are gorgeous, though. A brilliant, breath-stealing thing anointed in gold bracelets and long lashes. He keeps a watchful eye on the way your freckles dance across your cheeks as your lips pull into a smile, tumbling into laughter as you witness Peter’s awful dancing.
The house music thrums loud in the background, a beat pulsing through his veins, striking through his temples. It rattles his teeth and he swears he can see how the music wraps around you. He thinks everything must, really, because how could it not?
“Did you hear me?” you ask, leaning toward him. He’s perched on the edge of the coffee table in front of the couch you’ve claimed as your own. You have to tilt your head up to meet his eyes, and the sight of you, throat exposed and teeth peeking between parted lips in a grin, makes his heart leap against his ribs.
Luckily, he’s used to pushing down the way your eye contact unravels him. “What was that, love?” he asks, leaning closer, angling his ear toward your mouth.
He feels your breath, warm and sweet with the slight scent of alcohol, fan across his cheek. It flushes him deeper than the pint resting against his knee.
“I said I kind of want to step outside?” you say, voice phrased like a question rather than a request.
James jumps up at once, snatching your drink from your hand and twisting his fingers around yours. He abandons his own in favor of anchoring himself to you. With a gentle tug, you rise, using your free hand to tug your skirt down.
It should be illegal, really, how darling you look when you send him a shaky, self-deprecating smile.
“Lead the way,” he says, directly into your ear, tucking his chin and bending his spine to reach you.
You guide him out the front door – not the back, where smoke clouds and strangers hover by the firepit. Instead, you lead him into the pulsing, almost-quiet of the front porch, your hand still gripping his.
“Everything alright, love?” he asks as you lean against the railing, still holding his hand like you don’t plan to let go.
He’s never been so delighted to stand with his arm outstretched.
“It’s quite loud in there.” You say it offhand, nearly, but he hears the question curled just beyond the curve of your vowels.
“Parties tend to be,” he says, eyes searching your face.
“You like parties.” Another observation; casual on the surface, cautious underneath.
“Only because I always see you at them.” The flirting is slathered in truth. He sees the confusion knit between your brows, so he takes a step closer, knocking your sandal gently with the toe of his trainer. “Yeah, I like a party. But I only keep coming every weekend ‘cos of you.”
You don’t answer that, eyes locked on your feet. Your toenails are painted shimmering pink.
He’s known you like this for two years, hovering closer and closer to that electric sensation of almost that drives him just the right kind of mad. He started out wrong: the first party he saw you, drunkenly trailing his fingers across your back to tickle your side and leaning low to whisper sweet words in your ear. He thought he’d ruined it, honestly. The shock on your face, the confusion. You didn’t recognize him from your shared friend group and, drunk as he was, he’d failed to realize that was your first interaction.
He was a perfect gentleman from then on. He found you on campus, walking between classes, trailing after you like he couldn’t breathe properly unless he caught a glimpse. He couldn’t hide how enamored he was, but he did his best to stay within the boundaries of your comfort.
Life as your friend was a brilliant sort of torture.
He’d spent his teenage years drooling over the idea of Lily and learned his lesson the hard way when she made it clear she wasn’t interested – not for a lack of kindness, but because he’d never truly tried to know her. He’d shaped up after that, made a best mate he’d keep for life, and promised he wouldn’t make the same mistake again.
And unlike with Lily, the more he knew about you, the further he collapsed into his certainty.
He’s a patient one, James Potter, perfectly content with honeyed moments of holding hands and flirty comments. It took him time, after your initial rejection, to be brave enough to show his affection again. But now? Now he’s sure no one could be near him without feeling it. All that love, seeping from every corner of his being, just for you.
“Alright, love?” he asks after a few minutes of desperately trying, and failing, to catch your eyes.
He wouldn’t call himself a mind reader, but James prides himself on being intuitive with the people he loves. He knows the difference between Sirius and Remus fighting versus Sirius and Regulus. He knows when Peter needs to shout and when he needs someone to sit and problem-solve. And once he gave his friendship with Lily a proper go, he hadn’t even blinked when she told him about her and Mary – he knew. He knows because he makes it a point to see the people he loves.
And it’s gnawing at him now, not knowing why you look so bloody self-conscious. He’d been watching you all night, trailing your movements like it’s instinct, and you’d seemed happy.
“I just … I don’t understand you, James,” you say at last. Your voice isn’t quiet, but it’s uncertain, your gaze ducking.
“Ask me, then. There’s nothing I wouldn’t tell you,” he says without hesitation. “I’m an open book. Especially to you, love.”
“See, you say things like that, and –” You cut yourself off, tightening your grip around his hand, then letting go to lift his wrist between your palms. You finally meet his eyes. “You hold my hand. Walk me to class even when you’ve no lessons nearby.”
James blinks, confused. He watches you carefully, but when he doesn’t respond fast enough, you shake your head and sigh.
“It’s probably nothing, you just…” Again, you trail off. Chin tipped skyward, eyes shut, back pressed hard to the railing. You drop his wrist and something breaks inside him.
“It’s not nothing. I’m sorry, I’m just not following. I do those things because I want to see you,” he says, soft and slow, voice like syrup. He wants to fix this, whatever’s worrying you and bringing out the adorable wrinkle between your eyebrows. He wants to press his thumb there, too soothe it.
“Because we’re friends?” you ask.
“Because I love you,” James replies, agreeing, confusion tightening his voice.
“That means the same thing to you,” you point out, chin down, eyes still closed. “You tell Sirius you love him at least once an hour. You shout it after Peter and Remus every time they leave a room.”
“Yes,” James says slowly, head spinning to find your point.
“And that’s how you love me?”
“No. Well, yes. But no. Not like that. Not at all but also, yes.”
You nod a few times, slow, hair shifting in the night breeze. “Sorry. That doesn’t help at all,” you admit, cracking one eye open.
“You’re one of my best mates,” he concedes, “but it’s quite obvious it extends beyond that, isn’t it?”
It’s not. Not to you, apparently, as your head shakes no.
“No? Yes it is, love. Of course it is.”
He’s panicking now, completely aghast. James Potter is many things. Subtle with feelings is not one of them.
“Love, I just about sent you running the first time I talked to you because of how violently I fancied you.”
“That was over two years ago, James. A lot changes in two years.”
James is shaking his head before you even finish. “Fucking Christ. Not that. Not ever.”
“No?” you ask, voice going small again, fingers nervously tangling.
“No,” he says, stepping in until your chests brush. He waits until you look up. “No, not that. Never that.”
“How was I meant to know? I thought you gave up.”
“How could I?”
“I’m … difficult. I move slow.”
“Do you?” he asks, so sincere it catches his chest and burns his throat. “Hadn’t noticed. I’ve been too busy noticing everything else.”
“So you’ve just been waiting? For me?” Your voice lifts, hope woven through it. And he sees now, sees exactly what your heart’s been afraid to ask.
“Always, love. Thought it was obvious,” he breathes, lifting his hands to cup your cheeks. His eyes dart across your face, memorizing every part.
“No. Not to me.”
“Love, I’m absolutely wrecked over you. Everyone knows it.”
“Everyone but me,” you whisper, chewing your bottom lip. “I thought … that’s just how you are. Loud with love. I didn’t want to hope. But then people started saying things, and I kept getting my hopes up, and you just kept being you—”
“It’s a habit I’ve yet to break,” James interrupts gently.
“Never dare to,” you murmur reflexively. “But I didn’t know. And then you’ve just been staring at me all night and I just.”
“Please tell me you’re not pissed right now,” James says. He needs you sober, or near to it, in order to let himself say what he wants. You shake your head. relief is a gentle warmth in his chest.
“Good. Because I need you to know that I’m always watching you, love. And, yeah, I’m affectionate with my friends, but I don’t walk them to class. Don’t follow them ‘round like a lost puppy. Don’t bring them food and drinks and hope they notice.”
He laughs, shaking his head, resisting the urge to press your face into his palm. To hold you close until it’s all real.
“I’m rather mad for you, actually,” James adds, possibly using more words than he ever has to say it.
“I think I know the feeling,” you whisper, flushed and radiant in the cold night air.
“Yeah?” he asks, though he’s known it, seen it. Still, hearing it floods him.
You nod. And James grins so wide it hurts.
“Brilliant,” he says, practically glowing. “Been waiting on that for a while, actually.”
“Sorry,” you mutter, actually looking upset.
James can’t help but laugh.
“Don’t be. I’d have waited forever. I’m just lucky enough to ask you on a proper date now, aren’t I?”
Five Times Sirius Silently Pined for Remus and the One Time he did Something About it, by [anonymous] (3k)
What it says on the tin. Remus Lupin is not your average man, and Sirius Black is painfully aware of that. Or: here is a series of instances that would be ridiculous if it were anyone but the Marauders. Featuring watermelon seeds, alcohol, leather pants, bad dancing and too many cigarettes.
Pure fluff! Adorable.
Nosebleed, by WrappedUp (8k)
“I can’t have a threesome, Lily. I do puzzles for fun. I drink Ovaltine. I have a mug that says ‘I heart spreadsheets’. And it wasn’t even a present; I went out and bought it for myself because I really do. I heart spreadsheets.”
A muggle au in which Sirius is a pianist and Remus is stupidly oblivious. It’s so incredibly sweet, well-written and lovely all-around!
a/n: can you tell i’ve never used tinder and had to google things like “what number is a lot of tinder matches” 💀💀
summary: you and your roommate draco decide to start a fun romance competition but unbeknownst to Draco, you fell in love with him when you were 12...
warnings: none?
word count: 1914.
Saturday morning - 9:32 am:
“Wanna play a game?” your roommate asks.
“Sure,” you reply. Although this was only the second week of holidays, you two were already bored out of your minds. “We could play Uno again, but that’s getting boring. Or maybe Scrabble, Pictionary, Cluedo...” you glance at your board game cupboard, listing them all before looking back to Draco, who’s shaking his head.
“No, it’s this game I saw my friends play, on your phone.”
“Other friends? I thought I was your one and only,” you shake your head disapprovingly.
“Very funny, y/n. No, it’s Tinder.” he answers, grabbing his phone and moving closer to you on the couch.
“Tinder? There’s games on there now?” you ask, confused.
“No, the game is Tinder. You set a time limit, say, three days, and the person with the most matches by the end gets to dare the other people to do something,” he explains.
“Oh. I always like a good competition,” you say. “’Get the most matches on Tinder in three days to dare the loser’ isn’t the most catchy name, but I trust you to buy a good trophy for me, since you’ve have so much practice.” you gave him a saccharine smile.
You and Draco had a little trophy cabinet where the loser would buy the victor a trophy with whatever the competition’s name was engraved on the outside. It had become a game between you two, the winner at the end of the year would... It was undecided, but you were going to make sure Draco’s punishment was bad, or at least, totally hilarious. So far the tally was 5 to you, and 4 to Draco.
“It’s only a one trophy difference! Anyway, make a new Tinder account, fake information but choose any pictures of real you.” he says.
You quickly sign up, and pick 5 of your best photos.
“’If you like water, you’ll already love 70% of me ;).’’ you laugh and look away from his phone. “Really, Draco. Pickup lines?” you snorted. “That’ll never work in this day and age.”
He smirks. “We’ll see, y/n. I’ve heard I can be pretty charming.”
You roll your eyes at the reference to what 13-year-old you had said when he talked you guys out of detention.
At 10am, you guys were ready to begin.
|| You: 0 matches || Draco: 0 matches ||
Sunday evening - 8:24pm:
The whole day, you were furiously on your phone, swiping right, right and right. You tried to keep an open mind and had inputted no preferences to try give yourself an advantage, but 24-year-old Dudley Dursley was still living in his mother’s basement with his girlfriend. Yeah, girlfriend. The guy put it in his bio. Even though this was a game, Fake Y/n was not about to be a homewrecker.
“You alright there, love?” asks Draco. “Your thumb might need a break.” he laughs at you. You noticed he had been staring for a while now, watching your thumb as it furiously swiped right, with the occasional exception of people like Dudley Dursley.
“No, I’m fine, thanks. I see you haven’t been swiping too much. Why?” you demand, not looking up from the screen.
You see him arch an eyebrow and he whistles. “Your concentration right now is intense. I think I’ve done enough, today. My matches have been rolling in.”
This makes you look up. “Rolling in?” How many have “rolled in”, Draco?”
He smirks, “Maybe 17?”
“You’re joking!” you say, mouth open in shock. Your eyes lift up from the phone and just briefly you catch him looking at your mouth.
“I’d never lie to my one and only friend.” he picks up his phone and walks out of the kitchen.
|| You: 5 matches || Draco: ??? matches ||
Monday morning - 5:11am:
The next morning you woke up early, despite being up late googling the best way to get matches. To your delight, you found that overnight you’d matched with 9 more people.
“Draco?” you walk into his surprisingly clean room and dramatically throw open the curtains. “Wakey wakey!” He had work at 8, but you were looking forward to bothering him enough to at least get him to spill some of his secrets.
He groans, and his muscular arm flexes as he grabs his blanket and covers his eyes. “What is this,” he mumbles with one eye open. “sick joke?”
“Is it working? Mind if I... take a quick peek at your match number?” you give Draco your sweetest smile and he smiles too. God, he had a great smile, even first thing in the morning.
“Whatever, love, just let me sleep before I have to work.” he yawns and snuggles back down into his bed. Like the very best friend you are, you use his phone to take a picture, send it to yourself, and then set it as his lock screen. Snickering, you sneak out of his room, his phone in your hand.
“Wrong password?!” you whisper to yourself. Draco changed it?! It used to be his birthday, what was it now? You tried 0000, 1111, 2222 and all the other basic combinations. His mum’s birthday, even his dad’s - even though their relationship wasn’t the best - but lastly, yours. To your surprise, it unlocked.
My birthday? You think. Why would it be my birthday?
Oh well. You resist looking through his photos and move right on to the good stuff. His matches.
He lied. 17 matches? More like 6.
You smile happily, very content with your findings. Unable to resist, you take a quick peek at his messages, searching your name.
Why, why, why was your best friend the last person he’d used your name in conversation with? The preview of the text merely said: “Y/n will love it, Draco, good luck!”
What is this thing Pansy was so sure you’d love? You’d have to confront him about that later.
Monday afternoon - 4:30pm:
"I’m back,” Draco calls, voice echoing through the hallway.
“Hey Dray, café busy today?” you ask while flipping through a book.
“Actually not really, but you know what was busy? My phone. All those Tinder notifications were blowing it up.”
“What? How?” you bunch your eyebrows and stare. “You were literally working.”
“Every girl I served, I showed her my Tinder, and I think she made sure we matched.” He snickered.
You laugh but roll your eyes. “That’s cocky. How many matches are you on now?”
“Cocky? I prefer charming, but I have...” he looks at his screen. “15 matches now.”
You take in this information, trying not to smile. Four more people added you throughout the day, so you were only barely in the lead. Time to start furiously swiping again.
|| You: 19 matches || Draco: 15 matches ||
Tuesday morning - 9:54am:
“Malfoy,” you nod your head. Across the room, Draco smiles.
“Last names now? Someone’s in game mode.”
“I was in game mode long before this, just thought I would go easy on you before, make sure you remember me being nice before I totally obliterate you in this competition.”
“You’re intense,” he teases, moving to lean against the kitchen cabinet across from you.
“I checked your phone this morning. 19 matches? Cute. I’ve got 22.” You’re feeling pretty good about yourself right now, intimidating him and all.
He claps slowly. “That’s great, love, but there’s still 6 more minutes.”
“That’s... fine. These next,” you glance at the clock to make sure. “5 minutes I will be swiping so intensely, and there’s nothing you can do to stop me.”
He walks towards you. “Really, y/n/n? Nothing?” You turn around and face the kitchen island, hiding, his eye contact making you go red. Suddenly, you feel something behind you. It’s Draco. Of course.
You turn around, mouth open, about to belittle him for thinking flirting will make you go easier when you see his eyes flicker to your lips and your breath catches in your throat. He meets your eyes, in silent question. You nod.
“No, love, I need you to say it,” he brushes your hair behind your ear, the contact making you squirm.
“Draco, kiss me.”
And then he does. One hand wraps around your waist, his other tangles in your hair. He kisses you like you’ve never been kissed before. He kisses you like he wants you. Needs you, needs this moment more than anything. You know you do.
He kisses you and you feel time stop and slow down and get quicker all at once. Or maybe it just stops.
He kisses you like he’s been waiting for this moment his entire life.
He kisses you... and everything’s perfect, exactly where it should be.
You pull away, breathing heavily. He rests his forehead against yours, and he smiles. You bite your lip, nervous. You two had never crossed that line before. All those times you thought he felt something too, but you had been too scared to act. You start to smile, the stereotypical line of, “If I knew you also felt that way, we could have been together for years now!” in your head.
“If I knew you also wanted that, y/n, I would have obliged you long before now.” Draco admits, voice rough.
Oh my god.
“If I knew you also wanted that, Draco, I would not have stopped you if you did kiss me long before now.”
For a moment, it’s all smiles and laughter, before a shrill, piercing noises hits the air.
Draco starts to laugh even harder. “Sweetheart don’t tell me that’s an alarm. You really did get competitive.”
You look down, embarrassed it ruined your perfect moment. “N...No? Pssh, what alarm?”
“I know what you’re thinking. It’s not like our moment was ruined,” he says, eyes staring deep into yours. “I have a feeling every moment with you from now on will be perfect.”
“Watch less romance, Draco,” you deadpan.
“What can I say, I’ve been told I’m charming.” he shrugs, and you grin.
“I wouldn’t doubt that Dray,” you say sincerely. “But I have to ask... why did you change your password to my birthday? I’m sorry for snooping but I just have to know. Why did Pansy tell you I was going to love something?”
His eyes widen.
“I- I didn’t expect you to see the messages. I mean, the password I knew you’d get, but...” he takes a deep breath.
“Before I walked into the kitchen and we kissed, I changed my password again. It’s the year we met. The year I fell in love.” he admits.
“You’re lucky I’m in love with you too, because that was almost too cheesy,” your smile grows.
“Yeah?” Draco smirks and you nod.
“I had this whole date night prepared, and I showed Pansy, and she said you’d love it, but... Never mind now, right?” he smirks even more and puts his arm around you. “I want to be yours, now,” he says softly.
“I can’t believe you had plans!” you say, caught up in the fact that the Malfoy heir planned a date night?!
“I was going to wait until after this whole game these last few days, I couldn’t keep listening to you go on about the hordes of matches you had.” He smiles sheepishly. “And I hated listening to you read messages.”
You grin. “Jealous, Draco? It’s okay,” you affirm. “I’m yours now, I promise.”
Title: Miss Americana and Her London Boy (x American!reader, Muggle!Au)
Requested: Yes/No
Summary: Y/N goes on a vacation in London to find experience, adventure and memories. But after she meets Fred Weasley, a London Boy. She heads home with not only the experience and the memories, but also love.
It all started in a café in London.
You had gone on a vacation in London to do a little sightseeing and also to cross another thing off your bucket list.
You entered the café that my friend had recommended to you, ordering a peppermint mocha.
On your way out, you accidentally bumped into someone, the coffee only missing you by the skin of your teeth.
“Oh Merlin, I am so sorry.” The man who bumped into you suddenly apologized, his British accent ringing clearly through his voice.
You looked up to get a better look at him, his ginger hair was windswept as if he had just gotten back from the beach. His eyes sparkling in the sunlight. A small, apologetic smile on his lips.
“No, it’s fine.” You said, “I was the one who was looking where I was going."
He smiled, shaking his head, “Nonsense love. I almost spilled my coffee on you.”
You laughed, “If we keep on going on like this, we’ll never finish. So, let’s just call it quits."
He chuckled, “Whatever you say love.” He then offered his free hand, “I’m Fred by the way. Fred Weasley.”
You smiled, taking his hand and shaking it slightly, “I’m Y/N, Y/N L/N.”
“American?” He asked, as the two of you walked down the avenue together.
You chuckled, “The accent gave it away, didn’t it?”
Fred took a sip of his coffee as he replied with a small laugh, “A little bit.”
“So, where do you live in the States?” He asked.
“New York.” You simply stated.
He smiled, running a hand through his hair, “It must be a blast. Living in the Big Apple.”
You laughed, placing my free hand in the pocket of my jeans, “Most of the time. I did come here to have a vacation.”
“So, how long are you staying in London for.” He asked.
You shrugged, “About a month.”
“A month?” He asked in disbelief, “You’re staying here, on a vacation, for a month?”
You laughed, “Why not? I have been dreaming of this vacation ever since I was five. So, I decided to just make the most of it.”
Fred shrugged, a small smile adorning his handsome features, “That makes sense.”
You stopped at the beach where you were supposed to meet your friend. You turned to Fred, “Well, I better go now. It’s been nice having a little chat with you.”
“My pleasure.” He said, taking out a pen and a piece of paper from his pocket as he scribbled something down on it.
“Here’s my number.” He explained as he handed you the piece of paper, “Just in case you want somebody to show you around or you just need someone to talk to. Give me a call and I’ll be there in a jiffy.”
You smiled, gently taking the piece of paper from him, “Thanks Fred. I’ll see you around?”
He took your free hand, raising it up to his lips as he kissed along your knuckles, “You’ll surely will.” He said with a small wink before walking away.
--
“Who was that?” Your friend, Claudeth, asked as you walked towards her.
You gave her a look of confusion, “Who’s who?”
She rolled her eyes at you, “The cute guy you who was talking to you just now.”
You felt a blush rise up to my cheeks as you avoided her gaze, “Oh, that was Fred.”
“Oooh.” She teased, nudging your shoulder, “Somebody’s got a crush.”
You jokingly pushed her away, “I don’t have a crush on him!”
“Yeah, right.” She said, “If you don’t have a crush on him, then why are you blushing?”
You felt myself get redder, “Okay, I may find him a bit cute." Your eyes widened as you realized what just said, "Not helping Claudeth!”
Claudeth looped her arm around yours as the two of you walked through the beach, “Come on, tell me more.” She encouraged.
You rolled your eyes, “Well, we bumped into each other outside the coffee shop you recommended me. We chatted on the way here and he gave me his number.”
“What?!” She looked at you with wide eyes, before starting to shake you vigorously, “That’s a sign! He’s obviously your soulmate!”
You laughed at her antics, “Does him giving me his number already make him my soulmate? Seriously Claudeth, give me a break.”
“According to your story, you and Fred just met today. And after a few minutes of chatting with him, he already gave you his number. Just trust me and my matchmaking skills Y/N.” She said.
You rolled my eyes at her for the umpteenth time, “Whatever.”
--
You leaned back against the headboard of yout bed, scrolling through your social media, a bit bored. Claudeth was out with her boyfriend so, you texted the person you couldn't stop thinking about.
<Hey Fred! It's Y/N.
Not even a minute has passed before you received a reply.
>Hey love! What's up?
You smiled to myself as you typed out my reply.
<Well, remember your offer about showing me around London?
>Of course sweetheart! Why?
<I was wondering if you were still up for the it.
You smiled giddily as you read his reply.
>I sure am! Text me your address and I'll be there in twenty minutes.
You quickly typed out my address as you hopped out of bed to change.
You were still deciding whether a denim jacket would go with jeans you were wearing when your best friend suddenly called.
"Hello my soul sister!" You greeted, resting your phone on your shoulder as you pressed your ear against it, going through the rest of the clothes you packed.
"What's got you in a cheery mood today?" Claudeth asked, sligthly amused.
You hummed, "I think it's the fact that Fred is coming over in fifteen minutes. And tell me honestly, does a denim jacket go with jeans."
She laughed, "Yes, denim jackets do go with jeans. And in return, you have to give me some tea about your little 'date'."
You rolled my eyes as you put on the jacket, looking at yourself in the mirror, "It's not a date Claudeth. He's just showing me around."
"Yeah, yeah, then you'll be calling me tomorrow at his apartment..."
"Claudeth!" You chastised my best friend.
Her laugh could be heard as her boyfriend playfully scolded her, "You didn't have to be so mean."
After she had recovered from her laughing fit she said, "What? I'm just saying."
You heard a quick knock on the door, "I'll talk to you later. He's here."
"Go get your man soul sister!" Claudeth cheered on before you dropped the call.
You glanced at your image one more, fixing your hair a bit before grabbing your shoulder bag and opening the door. Being met with the sight of Fred, a cute smile on his face, his hair windswept just like the day you two met.
"Thank you so much for coming on such short notice." You said, closing the hotel door behind you.
He seemed in a daze, as if distracted by something as he just looked at you, his eyes glazed over.
"Are you okay Fred?" You asked.
He snapped out of his trance, blushing slightly at the fact that he got caught, "Nothing, you just look absolutely stunning." He said, adding a small wink at the end.
You felt my cheeks heat up as you looked down at your feet, avoiding his gaze, "Thanks."
"Where exactly as you taking me?" You asked as both of you walked down the avenue.
He smiled, "You'll see."
You playfully raised a brow at him, "How do I know that you're not some part of gang or something and is actually kidnapping me?"
His laughter rang through the air, "Then, I wouldn't be walking with you out in the open. I wouldn't even give you my number in the first place, the fbi and the police can track that."
You chuckled, "Smart. Very smart."
After a few more hours, we arrived at a park.
Fred stretched his arms out dramatically, "Behold, one of the best parks in London."
You laughed at his antics, "I'm relieved. With all the secrecy I thought you were taking me to see the Queen."
"If you want too, I can arrange that." He joked as we laughed.
"So, are you up for an adventure?" He asked.
You scoffed, "Have you forgotten who you're talking to? I'm a New Yorker, I'm always up for an adventure."
He chuckled, handing me a helmet as we walked towards the bikes, "Well come on then, we wouldn't want Miss Americana to get bored do we?"
You rolled my eyes playfully as he gave you a teasing smile.
--
The two of you sat by the curb as Fred handed you a bottle of water.
"Thanks." You said, taking a small sip, "How much?"
He smiled, shaking his head, "No need. It's on me."
We went on a few more rounds before nightfall came, Fred then escorted you back to your hotel.
"Thank you." You said as we reached your room, "For coming quickly on such short notice. And for the little adventure as well."
He smiled, "It's my pleasure Y/N. And I'd happily do it again. So, are you up for another adventure tomorrow?"
You bit your bottom lip, looking down at your feet to keep the blush from rising up to your cheeks, "Sure, why not?"
He placed his hands in his pockets, "See you tomorrow then. G'night Y/N."
"G'night Fred." You said, as you entered your room, closed the door and leaned against it. Closing your eyes as you committed his dreamy smile to memory.
--
"No! No! You can't tell me that it's not a date!" Claudeth said dramatically.
You giggled, "Why not?"
"Because," she elongated the last sylablle to emphasize, "You have been 'hanging out' with him for literally the past two weeks. So, you can't tell me that it's not a date."
You rolled your eyes at her, "Just because Seth asked you to be his girlfriend after a week of seeing each other, doesn't mean my future boyfriend has to do the same."
You ducked as she chucked a pillow at you, "Hey, hey, that makes it obvious that Seth is my soulmate. And I am sure that Fred is yours."
You then heard a knock on the door, "That's Fred, I gotta go now!" You said, heading to the door.
"That's what I'm talking about." Claudeth muttered to herself as you opened the door.
"Hi Fred!" You greeted as he gave you a smile.
"Hey love." He said, before turning to my best friend, "As usual, I'll be stealing your friend for a little while. Hope you don't mind."
Claudeth nodded as she gave him a smile, "Go ahead, don't let me stop you. You can even take her home if you want."
"Claudeth!" You scolded.
She gave an apologetic but teasing smile, "It was a joke. Now, run along you two."
You gave her a death glare before closing the door behind yourself.
"I'm so sorry about her." You apologized as you and Fred entered the elevator, heading down to the lobby, "She can be a bit of a crackhead at times."
Fred chuckled, "Don't worry about it. I might actually take up her offer and bring you home."
"You've got to be kidding me!" You said, playfully hitting him on the shoulder.
"I'm kidding." He said, accompanied with a small laugh.
When we walked out of the hotel and kept on walking until we stopped in front of a black scooter.
Fred handed me a helmet, "Well Miss Americana, what do you think?"
You stared at him in awe, "I didn't know you had a scooter."
He chuckled, "Prepared to be surprised then."
He put on a helmet before climbing on the scooter, holding out his hand, "I thought you were a New Yorker." He teased, "What's taking you so long?"
You playfully rolled my eyes as you strapped on the helmet, "There's something called 'patience' London boy." You retorted as you climbed on behind him.
"Hold on." He said, before starting to drive through the bustling streets as you wrapped your arms around his waist.
After a few hours, you stopped at some park.
"Where are you taking me?" You asked as he pulled you through the trees.
He shot you a wink, "You'll see love. And I'm sure you'll love it."
We walked into a clearing that looked like something out of a fairytale.
Trees surrounded the clearing, a small footbridge led to a nearby lake that glistening under the light of the sun.
You smiled, "It's beautiful Freddie."
He chuckled, tucking a stray piece of hair behind your ear, "I knew you'd like it."
"How did you find this place?" You asked, sitting by the edge of the footbridge.
He sat by the space next to you, "My twin and I found it while my family was hanging out at the park. Wandered a bit too far from the group and ended up here."
"A twin?" You asked, "I didn't know you had a twin."
Fred laughed, "Not just a twin. I have four more brothers and one sister."
"Wow." You grinned, "That is a lot."
"Only child problems Miss Americana?" He teased.
You laughed, "Unfortunately for you, I'm not an only child. I happen to have a younger sister, her name is Ahnica."
He tsked, "Cute. But not as stunning as Y/N."
"You always know what to say, don't you?" You said, trying to keep the blush from rising up to my cheeks.
"It's all part of my charm, isn't it?" He said with a small wink.
"Cheeky, that's for sure."
When nightfall arrived, it also started to rain.
"We're too far from your place." Fred said as we drove through highway, soaking wet from the rain, "Do you want to stay at my flat at least until the rain stops."
"Sure. Whatever works." You said.
We went up to his flat after he parked his motorbike.
As soon as you walked through his door, he immediately threw a towel around me, fussing over me.
As if he wasn't soaking wet as well.
"Fred." You said in an attempt to calm him down, "Stop fussing over me. You're also soaking wet. I can handle myself."
He shook his head, droplets of water flying all over the place, "You might get sick. You might catch a flu or something."
You rolled your eyes at him, grabbing a towel and putting it around him and drying his hair, "You keep on worrying about me getting sick when you're just equally soaked as me."
He chuckled, "Easy there Miss Americana. You don't have to lecture me."
You scoffed, "Not only cheeky. But, stubborn too."
"You love it anyway." He teased.
"Whatever." You said, trying to hide the small smile that was growing on your lips as I sat down on the couch.
Fred headed to the kitchen, coming back holding two mugs of hot chocolate.
"Here." He said with a small smile as he handed you a mug, sitting down beside you.
"Thanks." You muttered, looking up at him, offering him a small smile.
We talked with each other just like we did during the day we met, the feeling of tranquility and peace feeling the atmosphere.
"It stopped raining." Fred pointed out after a little while.
"Oh." You said, trying my best not to sound disappointed, "Well, I better be going now."
"Wait." He said, desperately glancing at his watch, "It's too dangerous to go out alone this late at night. You could stay the night if you want, but if you don't, I can always escort you home."
You bit your lip, "I appreciate the offer Fred. I really do. But, you've already done so much for me. I can't ask you to do anything more."
He chuckled, shaking his head as he stood up, "I insist love. It's absolutely no problem."
"Fred, seriously, I can't. That would be asking for too much." You tried to reason.
But he wasn't backing down, "I insist. You've only got two choices, it's either you stay the night or I'm taking you home."
You sighed, "Fine. But, I'm taking the couch. No buts, no ifs."
He chuckled, "Whatever you say Miss Americana."
"Do you ever stop being so cheeky London boy?" You asked with a small smile.
He grinned, "Never."
You went into the bathroom to change into the oversized shirt and shorts Fred had let me borrowed.
When you had finished, you saw Fred sitting on the balcony.
You chuckled quietly, opening the slide door and stepping outside.
"That's pretty dangerous." You said, "You could lose your balance and fall 50, 60 feet? You'd be lucky to still be alive at that rate."
He smiled, "Aren't you a New Yorker? You should be used to the chaos."
You climbed over the balcony and sat beside him, "Just because I'm a New Yorker doesn't mean that I do things that will put my life at risk."
He looked at you, "Well, you're doing the same thing right now."
"I guess that you have that affect on me then." You said, looking at him.
--
"I can't believe that you're already leaving tomorrow." Fred suddenly said, causing you to look up from your coffee, since he decided that both of you should spend your last day at the place where you met.
You chuckled, tucking a stray piece of hair behind my ear, "Time really flies when you're having fun."
You looked at the ginger in front of me. Something about him was... off today. He was quieter than usual.
"Hey," you said as your thumb rubbed small circles at the back of his hand, "are you okay? You seem a bit quieter than usual."
He bit his lip as he looked at you, "No, I'm absolutely fine sweetheart."
You gave him a skeptical look, "I can see it in your eyes, there's something bothering you."
Fred sighed, "It's just been something that I've been thinking about for the past week."
You licked my lips, terribly concerned, "Then tell me, maybe I could help you with it."
He interlocked our hands together, "Will you promise that whatever happens with what I tell you, it won't affect our friendship at all?"
You nodded, "Of course it wouldn't."
Fred took a deep breath, as if preparing himself for the worse, "Spending the past month with you has been the highlight of my entire year. I will honestly tell you that I've been dreading the day that you would have to go back to New York. I have been dreading the day you'll leave and possibly not come back."
You gulped, "Freddie, you're scaring me."
"If I don't tell you this, then it would be my biggest what if. I love you Y/N. More than a friend, more than anything else that I've loved before. It's perfectly fine if you don't feel the same and turn down my offer. But, Y/N L/N, will you be my girlfriend?" He said with a hopeful glint in his eyes.
You smiled as you nodded, "Yes Fred. I will be your girlfriend!"
He grinned, standing up and pulling you into a passionate kiss.
"Thank goodness!" He said as we pulled apart, "You've just made me the happiest man alive."
You giggled, "Well then, that makes me the happiest person to ever walk the planet."
"But, how about the distance?" You asked, "New York isn't on the other side of London."
He licked his lips, "Well, that's what technology is for, isn't it?"
You laughed, "You are a smart cookie."
The time flew by, before you knew it, Fred was taking you back to the hotel for the last time.
--
"Got everything packed?" Fred asked as he rested a hand on your suitcase.
You looked around the room, already feeling a bit nostalgic for the place that had served as your home for the past month.
You nodded, "Yeah, everything's complete."
We walked out of the room, climbing into the cab that brought you to the airport.
We were silent for the most of the journey. Fred holding on tightly to your hand as much as possible.
When we arrived at the airport, Fred stayed by your side during everything, check-in, immigration and now the moment you dreaded the most.
"So, this is it." You shrug, trying to keep the tears at bay, "I have to go."
Fred sniffed, obviously trying hard not to cry, "I know. But, I don't want you to go."
You gave him a small smile, "I don't want to leave yet too, baby. It's not like I have a choice. Besides, that's what technology is for."
He pulled you into his chest, hugging you tightly, "Yeah, but it's not the same as having you here with me." He said, now openly crying.
"Hey, hey." You said, my tears now dripping down my cheeks, "Don't cry. Just call and text me anytime. Don't think about the timezones. Okay? I don't care if you call or text me at 3 am. I will answer."
Fred sniffed, wiping the tears from you cheeks, "Okay. But, I'll be seeing you in two months."
You chuckled, "Two months? I'll try and get a ticket."
My boyfriend gave a small smile, shaking his head, "I meant me. I'll be visiting you in New York in two months."
"Really?" You said in awe.
He nodded, "Yeah. Now before you protest, I already bought a ticket."
You flung my arms around his neck, "You're the best boyfriend ever!"
"You're the one who brings out the best in me." He whispered.
"Passengers of flight 2B5567 please head to the boarding gate immediately." Someone said over the intercom.
Fred and you pulled apart, profusely wiping the remaining tears from our eyes.
"This is it." You said again.
He nodded, "The 'it' we can't avoid no matter what we do."
He pulled you into a passionate kiss, one where we poured all of your love into it. For one final time.
You grabbed my luggage, heading towards the gate when you suddenly didn't care about missing your flight.
Your let go of your luggage, running into Fred's arms as you threw your arms around him, pulling him in for another kiss.
"Last reminder, all passengers of flight 2B5567 please head to the boarding gate immediately." The intercom sounded again.
"Sweetheart, I love you and all, but you're going to miss your flight." Fred said.
You nodded, taking off my bracelet, it was the one you were wearing the day you met Fred.
You handed it to your boyfriend, seeing his expression falter a little, "I can't take that princess."
You gave him a reassuring smile, "You can and you will. Whenever you miss me, just hold this and think that I'm holding your hand."
He sniffed as he took it, "I love you." He said, his voice cracking a little.
"I love you too." You said.
"Go to the gate." He urged, "The plane won't wait for you."
You nodded, giving him one last smile before heading back to your luggage and going to the gate.
"'Till we meet again, Miss Americana." He said with a small smile, his hands in the pockets of his jeans.
You waved goodbye, "Till our next adventure, my London boy." You said before showing the attendant my ticket and heading into the plane.
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