#almost four years with no one else in the universe aside from his twin knowing
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I can imagine the first cycle after moving. Probably Leo because Donnie likely has internal scarring, so leo goes through the process of laying his eggs, panics, his brother can't help, and finally, *finally* they ask for help. It's not willingly. It's not for fun. It's purely necessity. It's purely because there's *literally noone else* and the idea of telling anyone at all is so scary that the way they do so is in a note. Splinter sits them down and basically walks them through "You're safe, you're fine. We can handle this however you feel most comfortable, including getting you both on blockers if you prefer" and they just.... sigh. For the first time, there's *someone else* in their circle, and it's willing and it's warm, and it's *safe*. There will be tears.
Yes, except I'm not convinced that either of them could stand to tell anyone. Even if it was literally life or death (which it has been before,) I'm not sure if either of them could bear to give up that information. Donnie is finally, finally away from the people who hurt him when he got found out last time, and even though logically, he knows that it's different here, he's absolutely petrified of the thought that the same thing will happen again and it won't be over anymore. He's still horrified by the idea of anyone else knowing about Leo when he's gone to such lengths for so long to protect him, and Leo is likewise terrified in the same way. They've spent years with this being their more closely guarded secret, and that's going to be really difficult to give up.
But it's really not a secret they'll be able to keep for long.
They're in a completely different environment, with far less space and privacy. They're both stressed as hell and Donnie WAS on birth control and taking all sorts of vitamins and supplements to make sure he didn't eggbind again and now he's suddenly not and it's not only messing with his body, it's fucking scary. It literally keeps them both up at night. Neither of them know how to wash blood out of clothes or sheets. There's no private en suite bathroom they can sequester themselves away in. They're both literally making themselves sick with anxiety trying to deal with this, and they're used to handling this on their own, this is routine for them, but they're not used to all of this.
They'd probably metaphorically limp through a few cycles before their family puts it together and gently confronts them.
Venus probably figures it out first. She's pretty smart, and incredibly observant, and after all-- she quite literally experiences the exact same thing. April may not lay eggs, but I think she'd be able to get the idea after a bit as well. And while I think Splinter would realize something was wrong pretty quickly, Draxum would probably realize what was wrong first. Splinter has April, so he has a little bit of experience in this realm, but Draxum has Venus and so he has far more experience.
And so when they do sit them down and talk with them, it's going to be really scary at first. And then they get to, "you're safe, you're fine, we can handle this however you feel the most comfortable. It will be okay. No one will hurt you."
And then there's finally other people in the know, in the circle, people who will actually help them. And yes-- there will definitely be tears.
#leo in particular will probably panic at least a little when theyre confronted#because its been what? almost four years?#almost FOUR YEARS of him keeping this a secret at any cost#almost four years with no one else in the universe aside from his twin knowing#and now the spell is broken#but its okay#and they might panic and cry for a little but then they calm down and its... actually ok. things will actually be okay#april will take to big-sistering them so hard#and lowkey just? having venus exist in the household will be incredibly helpful#(she was honestly so baffled that everyone else didnt realize what was going on right away. it wasnt obvious????)#mikey tries to spoil them the same way he tries to spoil venus whenever she feels nasty#(but has to adjust a bit to respect boundaries because. donnie will bite him...)#likewise raph tries to take care of them the same way he'd take care of casey#(ie by leaving offerings at their doors and staying the fuck out of their way. just overall letting them do or have whatever they want)#their family will take care of them and keep them safe and things will get better#its honestly a huge relief when they get caught in some ways because leo can finally be like#and donnie got really sick one time and almost died and im scared itll happen again PLZ can we make sure it doesnt happen again#donnie in the background like >:0000 that leo just fucking OUTTED HIM LIKE THAT#but to leo 1000% worth it if it means donnie wont get sick and die#(as if donnie is actually realistically at any more significant risk of that than leo is)#(quite frankly theyre BOTH at risk of it at the time because of how stressed they are. lowkey a miracle neither of them eggbound yet smh)#also donnie def has internal scarring lmao;;;; poor bab. makes it a bit rough...#menstruation#tw menstruation#cw menstruation#gemini au#asks#anon#csa implied#cw csa implied
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FOREVER SUMMER | teaser
SYNOPSIS. They say that three is the magic number, and with you having two childhood friends by your side every summer, you consider this to be true. Summers were always for no one else but you, Johnny, and Jaehyun. You want that to stay the same but of course, nothing ever does. Not when feelings come into play. You’re in love with Johnny, Jaehyun’s in love with you, and quite frankly, you don’t really know how to move forward. So much for the summer of your life.
PAIRING. Johnny x female!reader x Jaehyun
GENRE. Childhood Friends to Lovers!AU | Summer!AU | Beach!AU | Lifeguard!AU | Surfer!AU
WARNINGS. Based on Jenny Han’s The Summer I Turned Pretty, Johnny and Jaehyun are cousins, profanity, alcohol consumption, food consumption, smoking (vaping and weed), nicknames (for her: Shadow, Munchkin; for Jaehyun: Dopey; for Johnny: Jojo), more warnings to come
DISCLAIMER.This is work of fiction. I do not own the people/characters and concepts I have written about. You cannot translate or copy my work. Crossposted on AO3 by sehunnypot.
“Mom, drive faster!” you yelled from the passenger seat, wondering why you didn’t volunteer to take the wheel instead. With you at the wheel, you would’ve arrived at your destination hours ago. If this was a normal day, your mother would have scolded you for raising your voice at her but this was not any given day. This was the start of your epic summer in Neiho.
Being in the town of Neiho for two and a half months meant living in a gorgeous beach house that was a block away from the shoreline. A large two-story structure with six bedrooms, four bathrooms, a pool to swim in, and a backyard large enough to run around in–what could be more perfect than that?
The answer to that question was found in the other inhabitants of the mansion. Your twin aunties–not your blood relatives but your mother’s best friends from university–were the co-owners of the house, passed onto them by their parents. When your mom had nowhere to go one college summer, the twins picked her right up and invited her into their summer abode, and a yearly tradition had been formed. Fall, winter, and spring breaks were for other things but summer was always reserved for the beach house on Neiho’s Cherry Lane.
Even though the three friends who were as close as sisters started their own respective families, the tradition carried on with the expansion. And that’s where the two most important inhabitants come to play–Johnny Suh and Jaehyun Jeong. The boys, as you called them, were cousins who were like brothers to each other. And to you, they were your best childhood friends.
Being the same age as you, you were closer to Jaehyun–the pretty boy with the dimples and the deepest, dad laugh you could ever hear. Although apart for the majority of the year, Jaehyun never failed to text you at least once a day, whether it be a meme or just a random message that could be deemed as “too much information.” You shared a lot with him and in turn, he did the same with you. To you, that lunkhead basketball man was an open book.
His older cousin, however, was not. Unlike Jaehyun, Johnny kept some pages closed. There were times when he was inaccessible and neither you nor Jae could read him. If something were bothering him, Johnny would keep it to himself rather than burden you or Jaehyun with his problems. As the oldest, his duty was to shoulder it, shove them aside, and make sure whatever happened didn’t affect you or Jaehyun in any way possible. His pouty lips would press into a thin line, his straight brows would furrow, and his eyes would narrow until you couldn’t see the beautiful honey-brown people would die to swim in. Other times, though, he was like sunshine and his wide smile brightened your days as no one else could.
“Sit your butt down, child, we’re almost there,” your mother laughed, playfully shoving your shoulder so your butt fell back into the cushioned seat. Her hands turned the wheel and the tires landed on Cherry Lane. She passed one, two, three houses before pulling into the driveway. Before she could put the car into park, your fingers flew to the seat belt latch, ultimately freeing your body from your chair. Never mind that you were leaving your mom to deal with your bags.
With enthusiasm that was seen nowhere else but here in Neiho, you rushed out of the car and down the nostalgic pathway filled with memories that lingered in your mind. You spotted the garden rocks you painted how many summers before as well as the wind catchers that you created with the boys during an arts class they were so reluctant to take. Holding back a smile at all the familiarity, you shoved the keys already in your hand eagerly into the lock. A twist to the side and your hand on the knob was all it took to open the grand, wooden door. A sigh that came from way deep in your chest let itself out as the cooling air conditioner and the smell of the sea salt vanilla candles blew your way.
With one hand against the clean, white walls, you used the other to slip your shoes off. “Anyone home?”
Home. That was what the beach house on Cherry Lane was. It was home.
Loud, resounding pounds from the staircase alerted you that someone was there and you knew exactly who that person was before they made it down the steps and rounded the corner. Always heavy-handed in the way he handled his body, Jaehyun Jeong stomped his way to you, his gait echoing through the quiet hallways. His smile was wide as soon as you landed in his line of vision. The next thing you knew, his body was hurling your way and you had no time to escape what came next.
“Munch! You’re here!” he yelled into your ear right before lifting and twirling you around. Jaehyun’s voice sounded deeper than the last time you saw him in person. Your surprised squeal drowned out his low-toned laughter and your feet kicked against the hard core he worked on in the last year.
“Put her down, Jae, before you break something,” his mom, Jieun, called from the steps, a fond smile taking over her face. Her features matched the ones on Jaehyun’s goofy face sans the reddened ears and cheeks.
Her sister and Johnny’s mom, Hyesoo, peeked out of the kitchen to add to the scolding. “Jae, if you break something, you’re gonna have to replace it with your own money, honey, so be careful!”
“Listen to them!” you whined as his hands continued to dig at your side. “You’re hurting me!”
He adjusted his grip. “Yo, how’s the weather up there, Munchkin? Better than down here, I hope,” Jaehyun teased with a cheeky smile.
“Shut up, Dopey!” You kicked him in the abdomen harder than the last and his stronghold loosened just enough for you to wiggle away.
As you caught your breath from laughing too hard, you took in your best friend’s appearance. Jaehyun’s wetsuit was half on–the top half folded right at the waist–while his buffer chest was slightly covered by the heathered tank top he probably threw on in a rush. Honey brown hair unstyled and strands thrown every which way, he still looked like the same boy you remembered. Just a tad bit taller and bigger than before. And to top it all off, his dopey smile had you mirroring one too.
You bet that the girls in his major department went crazy over him. You’ve heard some of his stories through your weekly FaceTime calls–from his short-termed girlfriends and situationships and friends with benefits–but none of those ever lasted. Curiosity bit at you, wondering why they never did, but you respected Jaehyun enough not to pry. If he wanted to, he would tell you.
“Hey there,” Jaehyun chuckled again, his large hand coming up to your chin to squish your cheeks in between his fingers.
You stuck your tongue out and blew a raspberry at him, spit landing on the back of his hand. Jaehyun gave you a look of disgust, wiping the wet spots against your shirt. You’d think at twenty-one, the pair of you would outgrow childish habits but that wasn’t necessarily the case.
“Just say you’re happy to see me, damn.”
“Never going to willingly admit that,” you retaliated with a shit-eating grin.
Jaehyun’s hands zoomed back to your face to pull at your cheeks. His tough grip tugged them so hard that it stung a lot more than it should have. Your consecutive slaps against his chest finally got him to stop and while you rubbed your cheeks better, he stifled his laughter behind his palm.
“You might not be happy to see me but I am always happy to see you, Munch,” Jaehyun pressed a wet kiss on your throbbing cheek in return. You were too busy tending to your pain to realize the redness that took over the tips of his ears. His mother and aunt were not. Giggling at each other, they enjoyed the boy’s embarrassed state, loving the fact that you were the only one to get him that pink.
“You’re something else, Jae,” you shook your head at him before rushing over to your aunties to hug them. You missed them both.
“Baby, don’t just stand there,” Aunt Jieun scolded her son, coming over to slap him against his bicep, “go use those muscles that you keep bragging about and help your auntie carry their stuff into the house.” The boy, dorky as ever, saluted his mother and ran out the door in his broken-in Rainbow sandals.
“Where’s Johnny?” you questioned. A glance around the house and you couldn’t see him anywhere. It was unlike him to not greet you as soon as you entered the property. Your heart dropped a little at his lack of presence.
“Oh honey, your one-track mind never changes, does it?” Aunt Hyesoo grinned at you with a knowing twinkle in her eye. You pouted at her and she simply poked you in between your curled-up brows. “John’s out surfing. We told him to wait until after you arrived but he promised he would be back before your pretty little face showed up. Knowing him, that boy probably lost track of time.”
The front door swung open and slammed against the wall only to reveal a sheepish Jaehyun. Once again, the boy underestimated his strength. If one were to look at the wall behind the door, they’d spot a dent in the wall from all the rough handling but that’s a thing everyone in the house let go of. Holding the door open, Jaehyun allowed your mom to roll her luggage in first before hauling your load in. As the three mothers reunited, Jae nudged his sharp elbow to your side. “I was about to go join Johnny for a bit, wanna come wi–”
“Yes, let’s go, let’s goooooo!” Not even letting your best friend finish his sentence, you snatched the keys to his mother’s Rav4 and headed out the door. “We’re heading out!” You called behind you before barreling out the door with your tote bag in hand.
Jaehyun trailed right behind you with his deep laughter ringing through your ears. When you didn’t toss him the keys and remained at your spot on the driver’s side, he hesitated to get in the unlocked vehicle. His lack of movement made you roll your eyes. You had gotten your license last fall at the age of twenty so driving was no problem for you. At least, it wasn’t anymore. If you went back to the previous summer with you at the wheel, Johnny at your side, and Jaehyun behind you, you would probably say otherwise. But that was then. You were twenty-one now and had almost a year of driving experience under your belt.
“Get in the car, my driving’s better now, I promise.” The engine started at the twist of your hand and Jaehyun remained outside with a hardened look on his face.
“Sure it is, Munch,” he replied with a brow raised.
“It really is, how else would I be able to get my license?” A few bats of your lashes and a pretty pout were all it took for Jaehyun to cave in and buckle himself in the car. He could never say no to you. Johnny was a little harder to break–he was a tough cookie to crack–but in the end, little old you were always his weakness.
A defeated sigh escaped Jaehyun’s pink lips. “You’re lucky I love you so much.”
Jaehyun’s little profession of love made you warm inside, just like your never ending friendship. “The luckiest girl in the world.”
“And the prettiest,” Jaehyun joked, swiping at your cheek.
“Ew, is that how you flirt with all the girls back home?”
“Why? Is it working?” From the corner of your eye, you could see his brows dance. “Are you finally falling for me? It’s about damn time.”
“Absolutely not. Disgusting.”
“Damn, and to think, I could have finally had a chance with the prettiest girl in Neiho.”
“Oh shut up.”
The beach was a two-minute drive away. If it weren’t for Jaehyun’s surfboard mounted on top of the car, you would have been fine with the seven-minute walk or the short bike ride to your perfect little paradise. The midday crowd had made its way into the beach’s car lot, leaving a tiny compact space for you to wiggle into. Your first few tries weren’t successful, even with Jaehyun’s guidance, leaving him to laugh at your attempts before you switched places. Johnny would have never teased you like that.
Jaehyun parked the car slowly yet successfully as you waited outside with crossed arms. He shot you a smug look, complete with his sunglasses sitting on top of his nose bridge and a smirk that lifted one plump cheek.
“Don’t say anything,” you pointed a finger at him. “I have trouble in compact spaces.”
“Wasn’t gonna,” Jaehyun cheekily answered as he started to take his baby blue board down the rack.
Huffing, you turned your body away from your best friend and faced the shoreline. One breath was all it took to inhale the calming scents of the ocean. The sun beamed down on you; while others hated the direct light, you didn’t mind it. Accompanied by the soft breeze making its way through your loose hair, it was a perfect beach day. Your past self was right to wear your two-piece under your clothes instead of your undergarments.
Leaving Jaehyun behind, you stripped your loose top off, slipped off your Birkenstocks, and sunk your toes in the sand. The gritty, warm feeling surrounding your skin was something you missed dearly. Others hated the texture of sand–how it was coarse and hot, and how it got absolutely everywhere for no apparent reason–but it excited you. Feet running on autopilot, they led you straight to where the ocean met the shore. Dry sand turned wet, causing you to sink, sink, sink deep into the ground and you loved it all. When the cool rush of water hit your skin, you loved it even more. You closed your eyes and sighed, taking in the sounds of the waves hitting the rocks.
You opened them just in time to see a tall, built surfer riding a clean wave with no breaks. He made the sport look effortless when you know that in fact, it was not. At all. When the figure reached the shore not too far from you, the man planted his surfboard right in the sand. His height was not too far off from the item itself, which was a feature many onlookers admired.
After reaching down to catch some water in between his fingers, he ran that same hand through his thick dark brown hair, pushing his wet bangs out of his way. Your mouth began to split into two at the sight of him. Even without seeing his entire face, you knew that sharp jawline and stature anywhere. You saw it every summer, towering over you in a protective stance. The hands running through his hair used to hold yours whenever you had your scary movie marathons and the sculpted arms attached to them used to press you tightly against his chest whenever you needed comfort.
There were so many times your thoughts drifted from the topic at hand to that face and build. Dreams. Daydreams. Little scenarios in your head that fed the monster called delusion.
With tunnel vision for that man alone, your feet took you straight to him and your voice called out his name. “Johnny Suh!”
Johnny’s hands immediately reached behind him as you catapulted yourself onto the broadest back you had ever seen in your life. Your arms circled his neck and your bare legs coiled around his waist as he held you in place with no complaints. Your dry body pressed against the cold, damp wetsuit but you didn’t care. You were with Johnny now.
To you, the older of the boys wore many hats. He was your long-time friend. Your protector. Your crush. Your mom, as teasing as she gets, also referred to him as your first love. Your aunties rallied behind her with that and you always found it embarrassing. But loyal as they were, your secret never slipped past their lips. It was one for the girls, they would always say. You weren’t sure if Jaehyun caught on at some point–if he did, he never uttered a word.
Johnny turns his neck to glance at you. His eyes took notice of the sparkle in your eye and the bright light of your smile and it brought that charming grin out to play. “Aren’t your clothes going to get wet?” he chafed, tugging on the thin fabric of your loose linen shorts.
“Don’t care,” you replied, tilting your head to meet his gaze. His smile widened as you did so, the whiskers by his nose appearing out of nowhere. “Saying hi to you is more important than my clothes, Jojo.”
“Well then, hi.” The way Johnny said that two-letter word had your heart racing. It was soft and sweet and endearing. It was everything Johnny was. And it was beautiful.
“Hi.”
He tapped two fingers on your thigh. “You ready to get down yet?”
“Nope.”
Johnny chuckled again and with your chest pressed tightly against his back, you felt the vibrations it caused. “Looks like my little Shadow finally came back to me.”
Shadow–that was what he called you.
It all started when your moms noticed that you were so infatuated with the older boy that you stuck so close to him, following his every movement. When he would stand, so would you. And in turn, Jaehyun did too. When Johnny would want ice cream, you would copy him and state that you craved some too. And when he joined a volleyball camp at the country club, you tried to join too, only to be turned down because you were a girl. It upset you to no end at the young age of nine, that Jaehyun could follow the twelve-year-old Johnny but you couldn’t. To get rid of your sorrow, Johnny–although tired–played with you at home and taught you every little skill he learned that day. Your hobby only developed from there.
“Looks like it,” you giggled.
No matter how far you were or how much time had passed, you would forever remain as Johnny’s shadow. Just like Peter Pan’s shadow always found its way back to the leader of the Lost Boys, you would always find your way back to Johnny.
Your little moment was interrupted by the one and only Jaehyun, who has his surfboard lifted above his head. So into being within proximity to Johnny, you failed to notice the tiny drop of Jaehyun’s happy demeanor. “Dude, you done for the day or?” Jaehyun asked his older cousin, gesturing to the waves.
Johnny turned to him with you still hanging like a koala on his back, happy that you are reunited with your two boys. “Nah, I was thinking about catching a few more before heading back. Tide’s pretty good today.”
“Sweet,” Jaehyun grinned, his tiny little fangs peeking out as his mouth widened. He pointed his chin to the clear, blue water. “Let’s go?”
Johnny tapped your thigh again and released your legs from his hold. “You okay with that, Shadow?”
You nodded, patting your purse. “I got my audiobook, I’ll be fine.”
“You didn’t want to surf today?”
You tried your best to fight the warm flush taking over your body. “No, I was…too excited to see you, I guess. Didn’t want to change or grab my board.”
Johnny shot you a soft and tender smile. “You sure it wasn’t the beach calling your name? You always couldn’t wait to get down here.”
“I’m sure,” you replied, looking up at him.
“Next time then,” Johnny reassured you. “Missed having you out there with me.”
Your heart stopped for a moment. How was he so good at that? Johnny was too good at making you feel like mush and he didn’t even know it. It was no surprise so many of the people you hung out with growing up had a crush on him.
“Alright then, what are we waiting for?” Jaehyun shouted, raising his board high and running straight for the water. “First surf of the summer, let’s fucking goooooooo!” His loud voice faded out as he got deeper and deeper into the water.
Johnny’s large hand quickly ruffled your hair and you swatted his grip away, grumbling as you did so. “Be right back. Don’t go anywhere. Don’t talk to anyone you don’t know either.” His overprotectiveness came into play. The warning was unnecessary, seeing how all the summer kids knew each other. It was like a big reunion every season, with parties and bonfires all around. Running into someone at the beach was far from surprising, in fact, it was expected.
You waved him away, already busying yourself by setting up your spot a bit further from where the sand met the sea. Your AirPods were out and your phone’s camera app opened up, ready to take pictures of the beautiful scenery and your boys. “Stop worrying, I’ll be right here. Go.”
Johnny left, but not before giving you a little shove to the side of your head. You snapped multiple pictures of his back as he ran to his board with Jaehyun already riding a wave in the background. The sun was beginning to set, making the skyline the perfect backdrop for your pictures. Waiting for the next wave to hit, they sat on their boards. At one point, they shifted to wave at you, and being the person you were, you took more candids of them and sent it to the group chat with your parents.
You slipped on your AirPods and continued onto a new chapter of the audiobook you started on your road trip here. The waves were loud enough to hear through your headset and the orange sun didn't blind you as much with Jaehyun’s sunglasses resting on your nose. This was the perfect way to spend your first day back at Neiho.
With the amazing weather, the two best boys in the entire world, and the prettiest beach you have ever laid eyes on, this was going to be the best summer ever. It had to be. It was the summer before your last year of university. After graduation, your whole life could and would change. And you, as headstrong as you were, wanted this to be the perfect summer.
The summer of all summers.
The summer you would remember forever.
LIFEGUARD'S NOTICE BOARD. Hi y'all. This fic has been on the backburner for a while and I've slowly started to pick it back up again. This is only the first scene in the grande scheme of things that idk will ever be completed BUT it was too good to keep in the drafts! Tell me what you think: are you Team Johnny or Team Jaehyun?
TAGLIST. (tagging anyone who is on my gen taglist and people i talked to about this fic!) @johtenrecs @justalildumpling @bat-shark-repellant @bebsky @smileysuh @smileyerim @taelme @moonctzeny @lebrookestore @baekhyuns-lipchain @donutswithjaminthemiddle @ahcaratzen @espresseo-cafe @turtash @ravenjoongie @omlhyuck @cryingforjae
© sehunniepotwrites, 2023
#johnny fic#johnny imagines#johnny x reader#johnny scenarios#nct scenarios#nct imagines#nct x reader#jaehyun scenarios#jaehyun imagines#jaehyun fic#jaehyun x reader
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Good Girl - George Weasley
Title: Good Girl
Pairing: George x female!slytherin!Reader
Summary: George has been the reader’s enemy since their first year at Hogwarts together and now, in their final year the universe keeps throwing them together in ways that make the reader question why she ever hated George in the first place.
Warnings: NSFW!! Slight Dom!george, begging, slight orgasm denial, thigh riding, oral (Male and female receiving), throat fucking, fingering, masturbation, unprotected sex
A/N: The summary is shit but it’s an enemies to lovers slow burn. Seriously this is 22k words I lost control. This is for @those-born-to-fight who wanted some enemies to lovers with a Slytherin reader! There’s two different ~spicy~ scenes and the tiniest touch of angst towards the end. Feedback is always welcome, and requests are open!
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“God, do they ever just shut up?” Y/N grumbles, getting up to slam the door to her compartment closed. Adrian and Marcus laugh at her, but immediately stop when she glares at them, not wanting to face the consequences of annoying Y/N further.
There are very few things that Y/N outright hates. The list of things that mildly annoy her is quite long, but she reserves the word hate for only those special things that make her want to rip her hair out at the mere mention of them. Fred and George Weasley happen to be at the top of that list.
Like most students, Y/N had been enamored by the twins and their antics at first. Despite the fact that many of their practical jokes were aimed at members of her house and Snape, she found them quite funny. She had even thought about befriending the twins, the rivalry between their houses be damned. But after finding herself on the receiving end of a few too many Weasley practical jokes, she had begun to loathe them.
“I don’t know why you let them get under your skin,” Daphne comments, her tone dry and dull. Despite the fact that her eyes haven’t left the copy of Witch Weekly she’s flipping through, Y/N knows she’s been watching her fidget as the Weasley twins got rowdier and rowdier from their compartment down the hall.
“Because they’re, they’re,” Y/N pauses, trying to find the words to describe just how vile the Weasley Twins make her feel. “There isn’t even a word in the English dictionary that perfectly describes how insufferable they are.” She flips Adrian and Marcus off as they laugh at her frustration.
Daphne rolls her eyes and finally puts her magazine down. “You’re so dramatic, Y/N. Just drown them out like everyone else does. Take me, for example. I haven’t heard a thing either of them has said since third year.”
“That’s because they leave you alone, Daph,” Marcus drawls, coming to Y/N’s defense. This isn’t the first time the four of them have had this conversation and it surely will not be the last. “It’s kind of hard to ignore them when they send bludgers at you hard enough to knock your head off of your shoulders.”
“It’s pretty easy to knock someone’s head off of their shoulders when there isn’t anything in it, Marcus,” Daphne teases, pushing his shoulder lightly.
Adrian pretends to throw up at their behavior, causing Marcus to hit him over the head while Y/N laughs. Adrian ends up hitting Marcus back, and the boys hit at each other for a few moments while Daphne rolls her eyes and Y/N eggs them on.
“The contents of Marcus’s head aside,” Adrian says as he plops down next to Y/N, his breathing heavy from wresting Marcus to the ground. “He’s got a point, Daph. You’ve never actually been the victim of a Weasley prank. So, frankly your opinion doesn’t matter.”
Daphne flips Adrian off and picks her magazine up again. “I’m just saying. There are better things for Y/N to focus her attention on than those stupid Weasleys.”
“Yeah, whatever. I’d like to see you ignore them after they charm your shampoo to turn your hair neon yellow. It didn’t go back to normal for weeks!” Adrian laughs at the memory, and Y/N punches him in the thigh. “Watch yourself, Pucey or I’m gonna put yellow dye in your shampoo.”
“Trying to get in the shower with me, are you?” Adrian teases, throwing his arm over Y/N’s shoulder.
“In your dreams,” Y/N responds, picking up the book she had discarded after a particularly loud shout came from one of the Weasley twins.
She can feel Adrian chuckle as she leans into his side. “I’ll see you there.”
-
Y/N had almost forgotten about the Weasley twins entirely until she feels something hit her in the back of the head during dinner. She picks a piece of mashed potato out of her hair as she turns around, her eyes like daggers as she searches for the culprit. Of course, Fred and George are laughing to themselves, each of them waving at her as they make eye contact.
“Nice to see your hair back to normal, Y/N!” One of them, Fred she thinks, shouts at her.
“Yeah, I reckon if your hair had been yellow any longer you’d have to join Hufflepuff,” the other teases, causing the Gryffindors around them to laugh.
Y/N goes to stand up so she can knock the grins off of their faces, but Adrian puts his hands on her shoulders and forces her to sit back down. “It’s not worth it,” he hisses into her ear. “Not in front of all of the professors. Be smart about your revenge.”
Y/N glares at Adrian, but she relaxes, nonetheless. As much as she hates to admit it, Adrian is right. It’s only the first day back, she doesn’t need to go and get detention and lose Slytherin a bunch of points. Not yet at least.
“Hey Marcus, do me a favor and knock them off their brooms first chance you get.”
-
“You’re awfully cheery this morning,” Y/N comments to Daphne as they head up the stairs towards the Great Hall.
“What isn’t there to be cheery about? It’s the first day of the school year. Our last school year,” Daphne responds dreamily.
Y/N snorts in laughter, rolling her eyes at her best friend. “Ah yes. The hardest year of school yet, that certainly is something to be happy about.”
“Oh NEWTS? Who cares about those,” Daphne says casually as they enter the Great Hall and head towards the Slytherin table. “You don’t need good grades in school to be a good wife and mother.”
Y/N scoffs, choosing not to say anything. Unlike Daphne and most of the other girls in her house, she plans on actually having a career of her own. It is common for pureblood families to marry off their daughters to the sons of other pureblood families and often times the mark of a good pureblood girl wasn’t her brain, but her ability to stay silent, look pretty and boss around a house elf.
Thankfully, Y/N’s parents hadn’t raised her with the same values. They didn’t believe in the same archaic things most pureblood families did, and they had raised Y/N to have loftier ambitions than to be someone’s wife and a mother. Y/N’s father always joked that she had inherited her mother’s smart mouth, so it would be impossible for them to marry her off anyway.
“Just because you don’t care about your grades doesn’t mean the rest of us don’t. Right, guys?” Y/N asks as they sit down, looking for both Marcus and Adrian to back her up.
“Are you guys on this again?” Adrian asks, rolling his eyes. Much like Y/N’s hatred of the Weasley twins, Daphne failing to take school seriously was a frequent topic of conversation in their friend group.
“No need to get your panties in a twist, Pucey,” Y/N teases as she grabs some toast. “Daph is free to sit back and spend her last year of school doing nothing, but I on the other hand plan on actually doing good on my NEWTS. So, feel free to slack off with her, or study with me, I don’t really care.”
Marcus chuckles at Y/N’s attitude. “Damn, Y/N tell us how you really feel.”
Y/N chucks a piece of toast at Marcus’s head before she reaches for her bag. “Oh, I almost forgot, I’ve got all of your schedules.” She reaches into her bag and pulls out a small stack of papers, handing their designated paper to each friend.
“Wow, slacking on your Head Girl duties already and it’s only the first day of term,” Adrian teases with an easy smile.
Y/N flicks his ear. “You’re just jealous that you didn’t make Head Boy.”
Adrian rolls his eyes as he scans over the piece of paper. “Me? An administrative stick in the mud? I don’t think so.”
“Nah mate, you just were looking forward to spending hours alone with Y/N,” Marcus teases, causing both Y/N and Adrian to throw pieces of muffin at him.
“Moving on,” Daphne drawls, clearly tired of their antics. “What’s everyone got first lesson? I’ve got divination.”
When both Marcus and Adrian announce they have Arithmancy, Y/N frowns. “Guess I’ll be heading to Potions alone then.”
-
As Y/N heads down to Potions after breakfast she can feel her mood sinking. Potions is one of her favorite classes, and not just because Snape tends to favor Slytherins. She finds the art of Potions fascinating, and each lesson always tests the bounds of her knowledge. But class is always more enjoyable with her friends around.
Her mood only worsens as the Weasley Twins fall into step beside her, one on each side.
“Well, well, well, what do we have here, Georgie?” the twin on the left, who is obviously Fred, says playfully.
“Looks like little Y/N is heading to potions, Freddie,” George responds, lightly knocking into her shoulder.
Y/N stumbles on the step despite the light touch. Both Fred and George have a good six inches on her, and their time as beaters on the Gryffindor team has obviously left them both toned and muscular.
“And without her little gang of friends, what a shock,” Fred adds with a laugh as Y/N finds her balance.
“Friends? What friends?,” George teases.
When they reach the bottom of the stairs, Y/N glares at each of them. “You two dimwits are in NEWT level potions? Snape must have lowered his standards.”
“Oh Y/N how you wound us,” George gasps, clutching his chest.
Y/N rolls her eyes as they enter the Potions classroom, determined not to let the twins bother her. Daphne did have a point on the train yesterday, there were other things she needed to focus on besides the twins and their stupid games.
She takes her usual seat at the front of the classroom, expecting the twins to slink to the back of the class, far away from Snape’s prying eyes. Her fist automatically clenches when they slide into the seats directly behind her, her nostrils flaring.
This year certainly is going to be the hardest yet, and not just because of the rigorous coursework, Y/N thinks to herself as Snape begins class.
-
“You look, how do I put this nicely.” Marcus pauses. “Flustered.”
Y/N glares at him as she flops down next to Daphne. Potions had been an absolute disaster. She could hardly focus on her Memory Potion, too busy picking out the Jobberknoll Feathers the Weasley Twins kept putting in her hair. She had managed to make something barely acceptable, and Snape’s disappointment was evident.
“Screw off, Marcus. I just spent an hour dealing with Dimwit 1 and Dimwit 2 standing behind me doing everything in their power to piss me off. So, unless you wanna end up with your head in one of those pots and dragon dung fertilizer up to your ears, shut your mouth.”
Daphne laughs at Y/N’s outburst. “I told you just to ignore them, Y/N. Although dragon dung fertilizer up to the ears does sound like the perfect revenge plan. Not that I’m condoning letting someone, or someones, get under your skin so badly that you need revenge,” she pauses, winking at Y/N. “But if I were I think that would be the way to go.”
Before Y/N can get too lost in the thought of burying Fred and George in Dragon Dung Professor Sprout is entering the Greenhouse and starting class. But she definitely pushes the idea to the back of her mind for future consideration.
-
“I’m going to fling myself off the top of the astronomy tower,” Y/N announces as she collapses next to Daphne in the common room. After her short break from the Weasley Twins in Herbology, Y/N had to suffer through a double transfiguration and a charms lesson with them both sitting too close for comfort.
“Could you at least wait until it’s closer to the end of term? We could probably get an extra week off at the Christmas holiday,” Adrian says, not even bothering to look up from the Quidditch playbook in his lap.
Y/N groans, putting her head in her hands. “I need better friends, none of you are sympathetic of my suffering.”
“If you need sympathy go hang out with some Hufflepuffs,” Daphne tells her, throwing her arm around Y/N’s shoulder. “What did the twins do this time?”
Instead of answering Y/N reaches for her bag and pulls out her charms book, handing it over to Daphne. “Go ahead. Try and open it.”
Daphne gives her a look as she cautiously takes it from her hands. She shares a look with Marcus and Adrian, who were finally intrigued enough to pay attention, before she slowly opens it. As soon as it falls open there’s a whizzing noise followed by loud pops as a mini firework show starts to go off. Daphne squeals and quickly shuts the book, her eyes wide.
“What in the hell was that?” she asks, tossing it back to Y/N.
“Whatever it was it was kinda cool. Open it again,” Marcus says with a laugh.
Y/N glares at him and shoves the book back in her bag. “Fred and George did something to it, obviously. It scared the shit out of me when I opened it in class. Flitwick took 30 points! 20 for the interruption it caused and 10 for the curse word I yelled.”
Adrian and Marcus erupt in a fit of hysterics as they imagine the scene it must have caused, and Y/N gets up so she can beat both of them with a pillow. They both pick up their own pillows to retaliate, and the three of them spend the next several minutes hitting each other. It only ends when a spare pillow ends up flying over and smacking Pansy Parkinson in the back of the head, causing all four of them to collapse in fits of laughter.
Y/N is the first to calm down, wiping a few stray tears from her eyes. “Oh, that was absolutely incredible. Just what I needed.” As the rest of her friends pull themselves together Y/N grabs her bag. “Come on, let’s go to dinner. I wanna catch Dimwit 1 and Dimwit 2 so I can make them fix my stupid book.”
-
When the four of them arrive at the Great Hall Daphne, Marcus and Adrian head towards the Slytherin table, while Y/N makes a beeline towards the Gryffindor table. “Oi! Weasley!” When three red heads whip around to look at Y/N she sighs. Only one of the twins is sitting at the table, and it’s a 50/50 chance she gets it right, so she decides to just take a guess at which one it is. “George!”
“To what do I owe this pleasure?” George asks as Y/N reaches the table.
She smiles to herself, proud that she had gotten it right. Y/N had never taken the time to learn the differences between the two, but now that she’s examining George she can tell that his eyes are softer, like there’s some reservation behind them. She takes out her charms textbook and places it on the table in front of him.
“Fix it,” she demands.
“Fix what?” he asks coyly, a mischievous smile on his face.
Y/N clenches her fist and takes a deep breath, trying to keep her composure. “Don’t play stupid, Weasley. Just fix my book.”
George laughs. “Who said I’m playing stupid? You’re the one that called me a dimwit earlier, and you’re right. I am a dimwit.”
Their exchange has caught the attention of the Gryffindors sitting around them, and they’re all watching Y/N intently, smiles playing at the corners of their mouths.
“Look, your stupid little prank has already served its purpose. It scared me and I lost Slytherin some points. Just fix the damn thing, will you?” Y/N is starting to get desperate, but she doesn’t let it show. She keeps her expression blank, not wanting George to know how truly bothered she is.
“I don’t know. Maybe I would be more inclined to fix it if you asked me nicely, Y/N,” his tone is teasing, so much so it almost sounds condescending. The students sitting around them laugh lightly, waiting to see what Y/N does next.
Y/N grits her teeth, weighing her options in her head. She could stand here and nicely ask George to fix her book, or she could walk away and send an owl home to have her parents send her a new one. And even though she is tempted to just take the easy way out, she’ll be damned if she lets a Weasley twin get one over on her.
She takes a deep breath and plasters a sickeningly sweet, fake smile on her face. “George, would you please fix my Charms book?”
A look of surprise quickly crosses George’s face, before he replaces it with an easy smile. “Of course, Y/N. Thank you so much for being a good girl and asking nicely.” The Gryffindor table is basically in full on hysterics by now, and Y/N can feel her cheeks heating up. As soon as George has pressed his wand to her book and muttered the countercharm she snatches it off the table.
“Thanks so much, George,” she forces out, before she turns to head over to the Slytherin table. “Fucking prick.”
She sits down between Adrian and Draco Malfoy with a huff, already trying to figure out what her revenge will be. The conversation she’d had with Marcus and Daphne in Herbology pops back into her head and a wicked smile forms on her face.
-
“Why couldn’t you get Daphne to do this? It’s freezing out here,” Adrian whispers as he shivers.
Y/N rolls her eyes as they tiptoe through the greenhouse. “And you lot call me dramatic.” They both freeze in place when they hear a creek, but when no other noise comes they continue on. “Daphne Greengrass, awake past 10 pm? Ms. Beauty sleep is a nightmare if she doesn’t get a full 8 hours, you know that.”
When they reach the container Professor Sprout keeps the Dragon Dung fertilizer in she turns to Adrian, giving him a mischievous grin. “Besides, you know you’d regret it if you didn’t come with me. Now quick, hand me the bags.”
After they get the required materials from the Greenhouse, she and Adrian quietly sneak back in the castle and head up towards the Owlery. It takes them longer than anticipated, since they have to keep ducking behind statues and into classrooms to avoid Filch and Mrs. Norris, but eventually they make it. They both sigh in relief when they return to the common room 30 minutes later, the final part of Y/N’s plan in place for the morning.
“You kind of amaze me, you know that?” Adrian says with a laugh as they both head towards the staircases that lead to their dorms.
Y/N chuckles and shakes her head. “You’re only nice to me so you don’t end up on the end of one of my revenge plans.”
-
The next morning Y/N is up bright and early, her body practically vibrating with excitement. Despite the fact that the Weasley Twins have been pulling pranks on her since first year, this is the first time she’s decided to retaliate.
She could deal with most of their antics. Locking her in the toilets, charming her shampoo, hitting her with snowballs and every other little trick or joke they pulled, Y/N could just grin and bear it. But having to stand in the middle of the Great Hall and practically beg George to fix her book was her tipping point. She can practically still hear him calling her a good girl and it causes a shiver to run down her spine. After today Fred and George will certain think twice about messing with her.
“Hurry up!” she urges her friends as she races to the top of the stairs. The owl post will be arriving in a few minutes, and there is no way she’s missing the big show. Adrian picks up his pace to meet her, but Daphne and Marcus continue up the stairs slowly, caught up in conversation. “You lot are hopeless.”
Y/N practically skips into the Great Hall and after sitting down where she knows she’ll have the perfect view of what’s about to happen she rubs her hands together. Daphne and Marcus give her a confused look as they sit down across from her and Adrian, who thankfully shares her excitement.
“What has gotten into you, Y/N, you look like you’re about to jump out of your skin,” Daphne comments, sounding slightly concerned that her friend may have gone mad.
As the first few owls start to fly in, Y/N grins and gestures towards the Gryffindor table. “Shush, shush. Just look over there and you’ll find out.”
Y/N holds her breath as two familiar owls fly in, each of them holding a package. They soar towards the Gryffindor table, and instead of gracefully dropping their parcels in front of their recipients they drop them a few moments early. The brown paper bags explode as they hit Fred and George at the same time, Dragon Dung Fertilizer pouring down their heads and onto their shoulders and laps.
The entire Great Hall is silent for a moment, before nearly every student bursts into laughter. The most noise comes from the Slytherin table, and Y/N’s chest swells with pride. Adrian pats her on the back as Daphne and Marcus turn back to congratulate her on a prank well done.
Y/N can’t stop looking at the Twins, and her breath catches in her throat when they return her gaze. She sends them both a wink and a wave, giggles still falling from her lips.
-
“You think you’re hilarious, don’t you?” George asks Y/N as he and his brother slide into the seats behind her and Daphne in Defense Against the Dark Arts that afternoon. She hasn’t seen either of them since they left the Great Hall to get cleaned up, but at lunch Astoria informed her that Ginny Weasley had told her that both boys were quite annoyed.
Y/N laughs but doesn’t turn around to look at either of them. “Nice to see you boys managed to clean up.”
“You’re playing a dangerous game, Y/N,” Fred says, leaning forward in his seat to ensure Y/N hears him.
She rolls her eyes, but still doesn’t look back at them. “What? You can’t take what you dish out? I thought you two were tougher than that.” Daphne nudges Y/N, gesturing to the front of the classroom where Professor Umbridge is now standing, clearly telling her to knock it off with the twins.
“Oh, it’s on. You have no idea what you’ve started,” George whispers at her. She imagines that he’s trying to sound threatening, but she can hear the smile in his voice.
As Professor Umbridge starts rambling on about her expectations, Y/N turns to face the twins. “Bring it on, bitch.”
-
“No magic? No practical lessons? She was joking, right?” Y/N rambles as they head towards the Great Hall for dinner. They’ve all just come from a dreadful Defense Against the Dark Arts class, where Professor Umbridge had made it very clear that they’d be spending the year doing nothing but reading from their textbooks.
Daphne rolls her eyes. “Frankly I don’t see what the big deal is. She’s not wrong, our Defense Against the Dark Arts classes have been all over the place. I think it’s a good thing that we’re finally going to have some structure and unity.”
Y/N groans, looking to Adrian and Marcus for support. She frowns when they both refuse to meet her gaze. “That’s because you don’t care about doing good on your NEWTS. You don’t need an O on your exams to marry Marcus or whoever your parents have picked out for you to be with after graduation,” she spits.
Before Daphne has the chance to pick her jaw up off of the ground and respond, Y/N is turning around and heading away from her friends, needing to be alone.
-
“Are you alright?”
Y/N picks her head up from where she had buried it in her arms, surprised to see Ginny Weasley standing in front of her. She nods as she uncurls her body, stretching it out slightly. She had taken refuge on a random bench in one of the corridors and after sitting on the stone for a few hours her body has begun to ache. She moves down the bench a little and gestures for Ginny to take a seat.
While the Weasley Twins are Y/N’s least favorite people in the world, she actually doesn’t mind their siblings. She had gotten to know Percy quite well, since they had been Prefects together for a year before he had become Head Boy, and he had helped her out on quite a few transfiguration assignments during her OWL year. All she knows about Ron are the things Draco has said, but she doubts that anything that comes from his mouth is true. She’s never had a conversation with Ginny, but Daphne’s younger sister Astoria is quite friendly with her, so if she’s willing to befriend a Slytherin she’s alright in Y/N’s book.
“You seemed pretty angry earlier, before dinner. I just wanted to make sure you were okay.”
Y/N fidgets with her school robes as her cheeks flush, she had been hoping that no one had witnessed her outburst. She had heard too often that Slytherins were mean and evil, so she always did her best to contain her emotions around others, not wanting to perpetuate the stereotype even further.
“You saw that then?” When Ginny nods she sighs. “It’s just been a frustrating few days and I love my friends, but they don’t always get it. That stupid Umbridge is really going to screw me over this year and I can’t fail now. Not when I’ve spent the last seven years working my ass off.”
“I’m really sorry, Y/N that sounds awful. There’s going to be this, thing. A meeting or whatever. Next weekend during the first Hogsmeade trip,” Ginny pauses so she can tuck a piece of parchment into her hand. “Stop by, it might be, uh helpful to you.” With a warm smile and a pat on the shoulder Ginny leaves Y/N alone.
With a heavy sigh Y/N starts to head to the common room. She uncurls the piece of paper Ginny had handed her, fearful that this might be some elaborate set up for one of her brother’s tricks.
Hogshead Inn, 12 pm, is all the paper reads in neat handwriting that Y/N doesn’t recognize. She shoves the piece of parchment into her pocket as she reaches the dungeons, trying to decide whether or not to go.
-
The rest of the week and the next pass by slowly much to Y/N’s dismay. Things between her, Marcus and Adrian returned to somewhat normal, but Daphne is still refusing to speak to her. No matter how many times Y/N apologized Daphne just kept ignoring her. The fact that the Weasley Twins were lurking behind every corner just pushed Y/N closer to the edge, so by the time Saturday arrived Y/N didn’t care if the note Ginny had slipped her the previous week was the bait for an elaborate prank. She just needed some sort of human interaction.
Due to her and Daphne’s still strained relationship and the first Slytherin Quidditch practice of the school year, Y/N is all alone as she heads to Hogsmeade. Normally she’d not even bother going if her friends didn’t accompany her, but her lack of company makes it easier for her to slip down the forgotten path that leads to the Hogshead Inn.
She looks the dim building up and down as she approaches, grimacing at its appearance. Adrian and Marcus had tried to convince her and Daphne to enter the pub with them during one of their first trips to the little village on the outskirts of Hogwarts, but the girls had overpowered them, and dragged them into Honeydukes instead.
She pauses briefly at the entrance, trying to prepare for the things that could be waiting for her on the other side. She enters through the door slowly, her eyes widening in surprise at the scene she’s met with. It certainly is not what she had expected. Harry Potter, Ron Weasley and Hermione Granger are sitting in front of the unlit fireplace, with more than a dozen chairs facing them. Some are empty, while others are taken up by students that Y/N vaguely recognizes. Ginny gives her a wave when they make eye contact, motioning for her to take a seat.
Y/N sits down in a seat towards the back and fidgets with the sleeves of her jumper. She’s relaxed slightly since she entered, this clearly wasn’t some elaborate prank set up by Fred and George, but she’s still unsure of what she just walked in to.
“What are you doing here?” Comes a voice from behind her, causing Y/N’s shoulders to tense up. She turns around only to be met with Fred and George.
“Come to spy on us, Head Girl? Want to get all of our secrets and then run off to the greaseball you call Head of House to tattle on us?” Fred sneers as he and George push past her to take the seats in front of her.
Y/N rolls her eyes and crosses her arms. “Clearly I’m here for the same reasons you are, moron. If I was spying on you why would I just be sitting here out in the open?”
Truly, Y/N has no idea what she’s doing there, Ginny had been extremely vague. All she knows is that this meeting will somehow make dealing with Umbridge better, and after the awful start to term she’s had Y/N is willing to do anything at this point.
Before either Fred or George can respond, Hermione is urging everyone to take a seat so they can begin.
-
45 minutes later Y/N is standing behind Fred and George, waiting her turn to sign the paper that will make her an official member of Dumbledore’s Army. Y/N was skeptical at first about getting involved in whatever Harry and Hermione had cooked up. But as Harry talked more, about needing real, practical knowledge Y/N couldn’t help but agree. She had always been so focused on school and her future career that she never even considered what lay waiting for them outside of Hogwarts’ protective walls.
Y/N hadn’t known Cedric well. A conversation or two during Prefect duties, idle pleasantries in the hall, but that was it. But she had spent much of her summer vacation thinking about him, and about what Dumbledore had said about his death. While her friends and many of her housemates thought Dumbledore was an old crack pot, Y/N trusted and believed him. Her parents did as well, and they had talked about the first wizarding war with her over dinner on several different occasions.
As she listened to Harry talk about what he had seen and what he has already dealt with, Y/N knew that she needed to be a part of whatever he was planning. Being able to get some practice with actual defensive magic would surely help her when it came to end of the year exams, but if they truly were getting ready for another war, it may just help save her life.
As she heads back towards school, she can’t help but think about a conversation she’d had with her father not too long before the school year started again. He had reminded her that she had been placed in Slytherin house because of her ambitions in life, and her willingness to do whatever it takes to get there. Before he had kissed her goodnight he told her that it wasn’t always what you know, but who you know and that the people she surrounded herself with was just as important as focusing on her studies.
At first she had scoffed at his thinly veiled digs at her friends. Y/N has been friends with Marcus, Daphne and Adrian since first year, and she had never felt the need to expand her circle. Her parents were quite familiar with the families her friends came from, and the values they held. She knew that her parents didn’t exactly like her friends but were still supportive of Y/N and the relationship she formed with them.
But now, after seeing how badly the Daily Prophet was slandering both Dumbledore and Harry and hearing directly from Harry what he’d been through, Y/N understands what her father was saying. The Greengrass’ and Flint’s had been suspected Death Eaters all those years ago and its likely members of Adrian’s family had ties to Voldemort as well. Her father had been encouraging her to seek out new friendships to try and protect her from the Dark Arts that seemed very attractive to members of Slytherin house.
She’s so lost in thought that she doesn’t hear the Weasley Twins coming up behind her until they’re knocking into her shoulders as they pass by. She flips them off behind their backs, trying to ignore their chuckling.
“I can’t believe I just signed up to spend even more time with those twats,” she mumbles to herself as the castle comes into view. While she doesn’t mind having Harry, Hermione, Ron and Ginny on her side, she plans on staying as far away from the Weasley Twins as possible.
-
That night at dinner Y/N is listening to Adrian and Marcus bicker over what drills to run during their next practice when her mouth starts to tingle. Her eyes widen when she takes another sip of pumpkin juice and the sensation only gets worse. Adrian and Marcus give her a concerned look as she begins to fidget and from the corner of her eye Y/N can see that Daphne is watching as well.
“What the hell is wrong with you?” Adrian asks as Y/N slaps her hands over her mouth.
Except she can’t respond. Her tongue has started to swell in her mouth so much so that it’s trying to force its way past her lips. It feels like it weighs a ton and as the pain increases she has no choice but to let it slowly seep out of her mouth.
“What’s the matter, Y/N?” she hears George shout from the Gryffindor table, causing groups of students to look over at her. She’s desperately trying to contain her growing tongue as she gets up to head to the Hospital Wing.
“Cat got your tongue?” she can hear Fred call behind her, nearly drowned out by the peeling laughter coming from the Great Hall.
-
When she gets back to the common room that night, Y/N is expecting it to be empty. But when she’s barely closed the door behind her a mess of black curls takes over her vision and arms wrap around her tightly.
“Oh, thank Merlin you’re alright. I thought you would have been back ages ago. What happened?” Daphne asks as she lets go. She leads Y/N over to a set of couches in the corner, where Adrian and Marcus are waiting for them.
Adrian pulls her down next to him and Daphne sits so close to Y/N on the other side that she’s practically in her lap. “Would you all stop fussing? I’m fine, honest,” she says with a reassuring laugh. While Y/N is fine, she can’t help but lean into Adrian’s side, feeling relieved that things are back to normal between the four of them.
“Let me guess, Weasley Twin revenge?” Marcus asks.
Y/N nods, smiling when Daphne curses them under her breath. “A creation they like to call Ton-Tongue Toffees. They must have managed to get it into my goblet or something, so it melted into my pumpkin juice. It took ages to get the swelling to go down but Madam Pomfrey managed it. I’ve just spent the last 45 minutes listening to Snape try and get the maximum punishment for them.”
Y/N knows that not many people like Snape, that it’s really only Slytherins that appreciate him. It’s no secret that he favors his house almost unfairly so, but she doesn’t really mind it when he’s advocating for them. The twins had technically poisoned her, which is something Snape had pointed out when McGonagall suggested only taking points away from the boys for a “harmless” prank. Snape had managed to negotiate on Y/N’s behalf, and the boys will now be serving a week’s detention with Snape.
“So, what are you gonna do to get back at them?” Daphne asks, causing all three of them to give her a look. “What?”
“What happened to all that crap about just ignoring them?” Marcus teases.
Daphne rolls her eyes. “To hell with all that. They want a prank war? Well then let’s show them what being a Slytherin is all about.”
-
By the time Monday morning rolls around Y/N is in such a good mood that she practically skips down the stairs to Potions. The fake Galleon Ginny had slipped her during lunch yesterday had burned red this morning, letting Y/N know that the DA’s first official meeting would be taking place this Thursday. So not only was she going to get some real defensive magic training, but after the Twin’s prank on Saturday evening her and Daphne were able to properly make up and she had her friends back.
She bites her lip as the twins fall in step beside her once again, determined not to let their presence ruin her mood.
“How’s your tongue feeling this morning?” Fred asks from her right side.
“Any bloating? Tingling? Lasting side effects?” George teases from her left side.
Y/N shakes her head and chuckles. “It’s okay boys, go ahead and make your jokes. I want you to remember how good you feel now, because once I’ve gotten you back you’ll wish you’d never messed with me.”
She can hear them both laugh as they enter the Potions class and take their respective seats. “Really? Already planning your next late-night trip into the greenhouses?” George muses.
Y/N turns in her seat so she can look each of them in the eyes. “Oh, you poor, sweet, boys,” she mocks. “When I’m done with you the dragon dung fertilizer you took to the head will seem like a shower of rose petals.” She gives them a sly wink, and turns back around, their shocked expressions still dancing around in her brain.
-
“So, you figured out what you’re going to do them, then?” Daphne asks excitedly after Y/N has finished recounting her conversation with Fred and George to her and Marcus in Herbology. Professor Sprout has tasked them with dissecting Shrivelfigs, so the three of them can talk freely. Even though her and her friends had spent most of Sunday trying to concoct the perfect revenge plan they had come up with nothing that was quite right.
“I guess you could say that.” When Marcus and Daphne give her questioning looks she giggles. “I’m not going to actually do anything to them.” When they both still look confused she rolls her eyes. “I’m just going to let them think that something big is coming. That way they’re always on edge when I’m around, always looking over their shoulders, waiting for some huge prank to befall them. It’ll drive them bonkers trying to figure out when and where it’s gonna happen.”
Marcus gives Y/N a look of appreciation. “Damn, that’s pretty brilliant, Y/N.”
Y/N bows at his praise, causing Daphne to chuckle. “What they got this morning is just a taste of what I have planned for tonight.”
-
Y/N sneaks out of the common room that night, not too long after dinner. She knows that Fred and George will be serving detention with Snape and that it’s the perfect opportunity to mess with them.
When she reaches the Potions classroom she pauses just outside the door to ensure that Snape isn’t actually still in the room with the boys. When all she can hear is the clatter of cauldrons and Fred and George’s soft voices, she decides to go for it.
“Excuse me, Professor?” Y/N asks innocently as she enters the classroom. “Oh, boys! What a treat, seeing you down in our ends this late at night.” Y/N walks further into the classroom and she can’t help but smile as the twins start to fidget.
“What are you doing here, Y/N?” Fred asks, eyeing her warily.
She puts the most innocent look on her face as she can, blinking up at the two of them. “I’m looking for Professor Snape. Is he around?”
“No, he left us alone quite a bit ago,” George responds. Y/N can tell he’s trying to hide how nervous he sounds. Fred seems like the one to never back down, so Y/N switches her tactic slightly. She starts to walk closer to George and she has to bite her lip to keep the smile off her face as he tries to subtly move away from her.
“That’s a shame. I have a question I need to ask him.” Y/N leans against the table, moving that much closer to George. “Did he say when he was going to be back?”
“He didn’t,” Fred answers, making direct eye contact with Y/N. She returns his gaze, not backing down until he looks away from her.
Feeling accomplished Y/N smacks the table with her palm and stands back up. “Well I guess I’ll leave you boys to it.” She heads towards the door. “Have fun.” With one final wink she’s out the door, laughing to herself as she goes.
-
Before Y/N knows it, Thursday has already arrived. She tries her best to contain her excitement, but as the first DA meeting approaches it’s getting harder and harder. She feels bad for not telling her friends about what she’s involved in, but she knows it’s for the better. They certainly wouldn’t approve of the unofficial club, and she doesn’t want to chance that they’ll blow the whole operation in to Umbridge.
“I’ll see you guys later,” Y/N says with a wave as she heads to leave the common room. She told the others she had some Head Girl duties to take care of so they wouldn’t try and come with her when she left.
As she heads towards the room of requirement Y/N takes the time to glance over her shoulder every once in a while to make sure no one is following her. She had been the only Slytherin in attendance at the Hogshead Inn, and she doesn’t need to be trusted even less by bringing unwanted guests with her.
When she finally enters the room of requirement it’s a bit crowded, but she can tell that not everyone has arrived yet. Ginny waves at Y/N, motioning for her to come and join her and Hermione. She’s silently thankful for her invitation so she doesn’t have to stand there by herself and goes to join the two girls.
“Hey, Ginny. Granger,” she greets them both with an awkward wave. She doesn’t know much about Hermione, again, having only heard about her from Draco. She’s had to interact with her a few times due to Hermione being a prefect, but for some odd reason she trusts Ginny, so she figures that Hermione is alright to hang out with.
“Y/N I’m really glad you decided to join. Not only is it probably helpful to have the Head Girl on our side, it’s also really nice to have some house diversity,” Hermione says with a genuine smile.
Y/N can feel her cheeks start to heat up, so she clears her throat, giving her a moment to regain her composure. “Thanks, Hermione. I never really understood it, all of the house rivalry mumbo jumbo. I’m just supposed to automatically hate you because some hat put you in one house over another? Seems silly to me.”
She hears someone scoff behind her, and she turns to see George standing behind her, his arms crossed over his chest. “What? Got a problem, Weasley?”
“That’s real big talk considering the fact that you’ve had some grudge against me and Fred since first year, Y/N,” he says, looking at her curiously.
“I don’t hate you and Fred because you’re Gryffindors,” she explains with an eye roll. “I hate you because you’re ungodly annoying.” She bites her lip, allowing herself to look him up and down. His sleeves are rolled up to his elbows, and Y/N can’t deny that his arms look downright filthy. She had never truly looked at George, he was quieter than Fred, so he didn’t quite capture her attention like his brother had. But now that he’s standing over her, she can’t deny that he’s attractive. He is most certainly her mortal enemy, but he’s an attractive enemy at least.
“If anything, you and Fred are the ones who started our rivalry,” she continues a moment later when her eyes meet his again. “You locked me in the girl’s bathroom with Moaning Myrtle for three hours on the second day of school, remember?”
“Oh yeah,” George says with a laugh. “Forgot about that.”
Y/N rolls her eyes, turning her attention to Harry as he starts the meeting. He decides to start with something basic but effective, disarming. Y/N could disarm any witch or wizard in her sleep, but not everyone there is at the same skill level, so she’s willing to get some practice in.
They start to break up into pairs and Y/N looks around, trying to find someone, anyone to work with. Of course, George is with Fred, Ginny is already working with a Ravenclaw Y/N thinks is named Luna, and Hermione is with Ron. She ends up locking eyes with Neville Longbottom and she motions for him to come join her.
“I’ll work with you Neville.”
He gives her an appreciative smile, and as he crosses the room George nudges him. “Watch out for her Neville. You never know what she might be up to, this could all be a big ploy to take out the entire Gryffindor house.”
Y/N flips him off, giving Neville a warm smile. “Just ignore him, he’s an idiot.” They both take their stance, wands at the ready. She has heard Draco and his cronies make fun of Neville for hours on end, so she’s not really expecting much to happen.
When Neville waves his wand and shouts Expelliarmus, his own wand flies out of his hand and clatters to the floor at Y/N’s feet. His cheeks turn a bright red, and Y/N can practically feel how embarrassed he is. He looks at her expectantly, like he’s waiting for her to laugh and say something rude.
She sends him a smile and grabs his wand. “That was a really good try, Neville. The first time I tried to disarm someone I nearly blinded Professor Quirrell when my wand shot out of my hand and flew across the room,” she reassures him with a laugh. When Neville laughs too she hands him his wand back. “Here, try moving your wand like this.” She shows him the proper wand movement before she takes her place again. “Ready?”
Two hours later when Y/N is heading back towards the Slytherin common room, she feels accomplished. Neville had managed to get her wand to wiggle in her grip by the end of it, and she could tell he was proud of himself.
Y/N is thinking about all the homework she has to do tonight when someone falls into step beside her. “Alright, give it up, what’s your deal?”
She looks up at George before she examines the rest of the hallway. “Where’s your brother? I thought you two did everything together.”
“He’s down in the kitchens getting food, not that it’s any of your business,” he adds quickly. “And stop dodging the question. What’s your deal?���
She rolls her eyes and stops walking. “I don’t have any idea what you’re talking about.” George turns to face her, crossing his arms over his chest. She mirrors his stance, looking up at him.
“Don’t play stupid. You know what I’m talking about.”
Y/N sighs, rolling her eyes again. “So, what because I’m a Slytherin I can’t participate in clandestine clubs? Your sister is the one who invited me to that meeting, so go and ask her why she did it. All I did was show up. I liked what Harry said and since Umbridge isn’t doing anything to help us with NEWTS I signed up. That’s it.”
George doesn’t respond immediately, instead he studies Y/N’s face, trying to see if she’s lying. He goes to say something when someone interrupts them.
“Mr. Weasley! Ms. Y/L/N!” They both jump as Professor McGonagall comes down the hall towards them. “What are you two doing out past curfew?” Y/N and George look to each other with a worried glance, not entirely sure what to say. “Never mind the reason, you shouldn’t be out of your common rooms at this hour. I’ll have 15 points from each of your houses and I’ll see you both in detention tomorrow evening!”
Y/N gives George one last glare before she stalks all the way back to her common room.
-
“What exactly were you doing standing in a hallway with George Weasley past curfew anyway?” Daphne asks Y/N the next day at lunch.
Daphne had just finished explaining the evening she had planned out for them when Y/N informed her that she’d be stuck in detention with George for the beginning portion of their girl’s night.
Y/N shrugs, trying to act casual. “I finished up my Head Girl stuff and was going back to the common room when I saw him sneaking around. I followed him, figuring I could catch him doing something. I confronted him and McGonagall saw us and gave us detention.”
“Maybe that was his plan all along, maybe he was trying to get you in trouble,” Daphne suggests.
“Yeah but he got in trouble too, Daph,” Y/N reminds her with a laugh.
The other girl shrugs, taking a bite of her Yorkshire pudding. “I didn’t say it was a smart plan.” Marcus and Adrian arrive then, taking their respective seats next to the girls.
“Who didn’t have a smart plan?” Marcus asks as he starts to pile food on his plate.
“George Weasley,” Y/N answers, batting away Adrian’s hand as he tries to steal her roll. “I caught him sneaking around one of the hallways after curfew and McGonagall rolled up on us and gave us detention.”
“Detention? On a Friday night? What about our hot date?” Adrian teases, making another attempt at stealing her roll.
Y/N flips him off and lets him have it. “The only hot date you’re going to have tonight is your right hand.”
-
Y/N groans as she picks up another teapot to clean. Her and George have been serving their detention in complete silence for twenty minutes and her brain feels like it’s going to mush. “Is detention always this boring?” she asks, not really expecting George to respond.
“No. But mostly because I’m usually with Fred, not you,” George replies dully.
“Oh, how you wound me, George,” she responds, mocking the tone he had used with her on the first day of term.
They work together in silence for a few minutes before George puts down the teapot he had been scrubbing and tosses his rag to the side. “So, I asked Ginny,” he says, turning to look at Y/N.
Y/N gives him a look as she turns to face him as well, discarding what she had been doing. “Asked Ginny what?”
George rolls his eyes at her, clearly annoyed that Y/N had forgotten the conversation they had in the hall the previous night. “Why she told you about the meeting at the Hogshead, about Dumbledore’s Army.”
“Oh,” she responds softly. When she had said that to George last night she hadn’t expected him to actually ask, she was just trying to get him to leave her alone. “And what did she say?” George gives her a look, causing Y/N to roll her eyes. “Fine, don’t tell me. You’re the one that brought it up.”
George chuckles at her frustration. “Aw come on, I’m just kidding.” He pauses. “She said that Astoria Greengrass talks about you a ton, about how you’re different than other Slytherins. She said something about how you got into a fight with your friends, and she decided that if she talked to you and you were cool enough, she would invite you.”
“So, I’ve got the Ginny Weasley stamp of approval? I’m honored,” she says with a laugh, her surprise evident in her tone. “Does that make me alright then? Since I’m different than other Slytherins? Whatever that means.”
George shrugs his shoulders. “I think I know what she means.” When Y/N raises an eyebrow at him he continues. “Oh, come on don’t act like you don’t know it. You’re nice.”
Y/N scoffs, lightly shoving his arm. “Slytherins being mean is just a stereotype, George. Tons of the people in my house are nice. Daphne is nice, and so are Marcus and Adrian.”
“Cut the crap, Y/N,” he chides. “Daphne, Marcus and Adrian are nice to you and the other members of your house because you all share that in common. But you’re nice to, well most people honestly. Everyone even, except maybe me and Fred. But we aren’t nice to you either, so I understand it.”
Y/N opens her mouth to respond, but George puts his hand up to stop her. “Take yesterday, for example. I saw you, with Neville. The way you made him feel better about his failure, how you encouraged him and helped him improve. Daphne or Marcus or any other Slytherin wouldn’t have done that. They’d have laughed in his face and you know it.”
“I guess you’re right,” she admits softly, a slight blush on her cheeks from George’s kind words.
“So, you’re so worried about your NEWTs that you’re willing to spend hours practicing a spell you mastered in 2nd year? Thought you were top of our class?” he teases.
Y/N plays with her fingers and fidgets in her seat. She knows the question is innocent, but it feels like George can see right into her soul. That’s he looking at all her worst fears. “I am, yeah. I need at least an Exceeds Expectations on my defense against the dark arts NEWT to be a Healer and I’ve already worked so hard, I can’t screw it up now, not when I’m this close.”
George is silent for a moment and he turns in his chair so he’s fully facing Y/N. When she does the same he speaks. “I didn’t know you want to be a healer.”
Y/N rolls her eyes, but she’s smiling. “There’s a lot you don’t know about me, Weasley. What is it you said? I’m not nice to you and you’re not nice to me. It’s always been that way.”
“Yeah I guess so,” he admits. “I never imagined you as a Healer, if I’m honest. But I think you’ll be amazing at it.”
Y/N blushes and looks down. “Thanks, I appreciate it. That’s all I’ve ever wanted to be, since I was a little kid. I used to pretend to Heal my dolls all the time. My parents even gave me a muggle doctors coat for Christmas once, I wore it like, every day,” she reminisces with a laugh.
George laughs along with her. “I fear that I may have seriously misjudged you, Y/N.”
“What do you mean?” she asks, lightly shoving his shoulder.
George blushes and Y/N finds it endearing. “I figured you and your family were like the other pureblood Slytherin dynasties. That you cared about your grades to make you a more appealing bride or something.”
Y/N nods in understanding. “Yeah I don’t blame you on that one. That’s what most people think. My parents were raised like that and they hated it. All the stupid rules, the lack of freedom. They’re lucky, they were able to find genuine love with each other. And they’re still so in love, it’s actually pretty sickening,” she says with a laugh. “But they agreed that when they had kids they wouldn’t raise them like that. That they’d let them think for themselves, find their own way in life. It’s been so hard, not to send an owl to my dad and tell him all about Dumbledore’s Army.”
“Really? He’d approve of it?” he asks, unable to help how surprised he sounds.
“Oh yeah,” she confirms with a laugh. “He was so angry all summer, with what the Daily Prophet is saying about Harry and Dumbledore. He even not so subtly suggested that I expand my horizons, make some friendships and connections with people from other houses. I think he’d be really excited about what Harry’s doing.”
“That’s actually really cool. I guess I definitely misjudged you then.”
They both get back to work then, but Y/N doesn’t feel as awkward anymore. She’s never bothered to have an actual conversation with either of the Weasley Twins, and she is quite surprised to find that she actually really enjoyed it.
-
When Y/N and George leave the transfiguration classroom a few hours later she’s exhausted and silently thanks Merlin that she is a Witch, because cleaning the muggle way is dreadful. Despite the late hour Y/N is surprised to see that the hallway isn’t empty. Adrian and Fred are leaning up against the wall across from the transfiguration classroom a few feet apart, glaring at each other.
“What are you doing here?” Y/N asks with a soft laugh, altering both boys of their arrival.
“I wanted to make sure George was alright. You’ve been spouting about your grand revenge plan all week, I wanted to make sure you didn’t try and pull anything while you two were alone,” Fred answers, finally looking away from Adrian so he can glare at Y/N.
Y/N rolls her eyes. “I wasn’t talking to you, Weasley. I don’t care why you’re here.” When Fred flips her off she returns the gesture.
“To answer your question,” Adrian starts as he walks towards her. “I came to accompany you back to the common room. A gentleman never lets a lady walk alone at night.”
“Well then where’s this gentleman?” she teases, looking around the hallway.
Before Adrian can respond Fred laughs. “Yeah, I don’t see a lady either.” George’s laughter joins his brothers and Y/N flips them off again.
When Adrian starts to move closer to Fred, Y/N grabs his arm and pulls him into her chest. “Not here, Adrian,” she whispers. “McGonagall is right in there,” she reminds him, gesturing towards the open classroom door with her head.
“You are so lucky, weasel,” Adrian practically growls at him. Y/N wraps her arms around Adrian’s waist and starts to pull him down the hall away from Fred and George. Adrian glares at them one last time before he turns forward and wraps his arm around her shoulder. “You should have let me hit him. One good hit would have been worth a month’s detention.”
“Not this close to quidditch season it’s not. Smack a few good bludgers at him instead,” Y/N pauses and she looks up at Adrian with her best puppy dog eyes. “Piggyback ride? Please?”
Adrian sighs heavily but crouches down in front of Y/N, nonetheless. She squeals in delight, climbing onto her friend’s back. Adrian grips her thighs tightly as he stands. “Ready?” Once he feels Y/N nod he sets off towards the common room. “You’re lucky I love you, brat.”
-
When Fred and George slide into their seats behind Y/N in Potions on Monday morning they don’t say a word. When she saw them enter the room she had tensed up, just waiting for whatever snarky comment they were bound to make. So, when they take their seats without a word, Y/N can’t help but turn around to look at them.
“What’s wrong with you two?” When neither of them responds, Y/N waves her hand in front of their faces. “Hello? Earth to Nitwit 1 and Nitwit 2.” She expected her insult to get them to at least look at her, but both of their focus is on the blackboard in the front of the room. She huffs in annoyance. “Whatever be pricks. I don’t care.” She turns back around and crosses her arms, trying to convince herself that she in fact doesn’t care that they’re ignoring her.
-
“Will you stop staring at them? It’s weird,” Marcus scolds Y/N that night at dinner, kicking her shin under the table to get her attention.
Y/N kicks him back, finally tearing her attention away from Fred and George. “They’re planning something,” she insists.
Daphne rolls her eyes and throws a carrot at Y/N. “First you complain that they’re always loud and bothering you and now you’re complaining that they aren’t bothering you. Will you just give it a rest? Be thankful that they’ve finally decided to leave you alone.”
Y/N sticks her tongue out at Daphne before she takes a bite out of the carrot she had thrown at her. She knows Daphne is right, but she can’t help but be bothered that Fred and George aren’t even trying to annoy her. As much as she hates to admit it, she misses their antics. Y/N had really enjoyed George’s company during their detention and part of her had hoped that maybe their newfound acquaintanceship would have carried over once they were no longer the only people in the room.
So, she had found herself quite disappointed that he hadn’t said a word to her all day. He hadn’t even looked at her. Y/N thought she had felt his gaze on her during Charms, but when she turned around to check he was focused on Flitwick.
“Daph is right,” Adrian whispers in her ear, bringing her thoughts back to the present. “They’re finally leaving you alone, you should be happy.”
Y/N shrugs her shoulders, her gaze falling upon Fred and George once again. “I am happy,” she lies. “I just know them too well. They’re planning something big. They’re trying to throw me off.” She flips her friends off when they all groan.
“What makes you think they’re planning something?” Marcus asks. “Did something happen between you and George during detention? You didn’t say too much about it.”
Y/N bites her lip. She hadn’t said much to her friends about her detention when her and Adrian arrived back in the common room that night, just that it was mind numbingly boring. She didn’t want them to know that she had not only had a conversation with George Weasley, but she had actually enjoyed it.
“No, nothing happened. We sat there cleaning teapots for hours, McGonagall came back and she let us go,” she says with a shrug, trying to seem casual. “He didn’t even say two words to me.”
“Exactly, so chill out. Enjoy the peace,” Daphne says.
When Y/N finally collapses in her bed that night she can’t seem to fall asleep despite how tired she is. She tosses and turns, her mind wandering to George and why she’s so bothered by the sudden lack of attention she’s getting from him. Her stomach lurches, realization hitting her like a ton of bricks.
I have a crush on George Weasley.
-
Y/N spends the rest of the week avoiding both Weasley Twins. She sits as far away from them as possible, refuses to look at them and even goes as far as to hide in an empty classroom when she sees them heading towards her one afternoon. Y/N is determined to extinguish whatever positive feelings she has towards George. She’s spent the past seven years hating his guts, and she is not about to let herself reverse all of that over some stupid crush. Unfortunately for Y/N, on Saturday morning her fake Galleon burns red, letting her know that there will be another DA meeting that night.
Which is why she’s currently heading towards the Room of Requirement, her stomach a pit of dread and despair. “Get it together, Y/N,” she mutters to herself. Y/N is standing just outside the room of requirement and she takes a deep breath to calm herself down.
Y/N pulls the door open and goes to head in, but she runs smack into the chest of someone trying to leave. An involuntary squeal leaves her lips as her body tenses up, preparing itself to hit the ground. Except she doesn’t even fall. A pair of strong arms wrap around her waist and she’s pulled into the other person’s chest.
“Woah there. Watch where you’re going.”
Y/N doesn’t have to look up to know that George Weasley is holding her in his arms. She can feel her cheeks heat up and she pushes away from him, needing to get away from him as fast as possible. “I could say the same to you, Weasley,” she sneers.
Even though her tone is crude Y/N can feel her heart fluttering in her chest and her skin is tingling from his touch. She looks up at his face, letting her eyes linger on his lips for just a second. She tries not to think about what it would feel like for him to grip her waist as they kissed.
“No need to be so feisty, Y/N,” George teases, snapping Y/N out of her thoughts.
She rolls her eyes and steps aside so George can leave, Fred following close behind him. “Maybe if you weren’t trying to mow me down I wouldn’t need to be,” she responds, watching as Fred flips her off behind his back.
She watches them walk away for a moment before heading into the room of requirement. Her palms are sweaty even from that small interaction with George and Y/N tries to subtly wipe them off on her skirt as she joins Ginny, Hermione and Ron in the back of the room.
“Where are they off to?” she asks after they’ve been talking for a few minutes, not wanting to seem too interested in George’s movements.
“Filch has been sniffing around for Umbridge, she knows Harry is up to something. So, Fred and George are going to slip him something that’ll put him out of commission for few hours,” Hermione explains.
Y/N nods. Hermione had made a few complaints to both Y/N and Miles, a Ravenclaw in her year that was Head Boy, that Fred and George had been spending their free time making an array of joke products and then testing them out on first years. “Despite the fact that I have been the victim of a Weasley product, I can’t say I feel bad for Filch.”
Once Fred and George slip back into the room of requirement and give Harry a thumbs up, he starts the meeting. They’re going to continue working on disarming, and Y/N immediately searches for Neville in the crowd. Neville certainly isn’t the most talented wizard, but Y/N can tell that he’s full of determination and she likes working with him. When Harry sets them off to work Neville joins her.
“You better watch out, Y/N, I’ve been practicing,” Neville says with a laugh as they take their stances.
“Alright then, Longbottom, let’s see what you’ve got.”
-
When Y/N leaves the Room of Requirement later that night, she can still hear Neville chattering to his friends happily as they head back to Gryffindor tower. It had taken him most of the meeting, but Neville had finally managed to get her wand to fly out of her hand. She was extremely happy for him as the other members of the DA came around to congratulate him, and not just because George had pressed up against her back as he patted Neville on the shoulder.
“Sneaking away without saying Goodbye, Y/N? I’m hurt,” George scolds teasingly as he comes up behind her.
She rolls her eyes, trying to contain her excitement. “Oh, so you’re speaking to me again?” she says as he falls into step next to her. He’s standing so close that their arms almost brush, and Y/N swallows down the butterflies that come up her throat.
“Aw, did little Y/N miss me?” George teases, shoving her shoulder.
“No,” Y/N responds far too quickly, trying not to get flustered from the contact. “Just surprised that you managed to go a whole week without annoying me that’s all.”
“Uh huh. Sure, whatever you say.”
She bites her lip, trying to contain her glee. Cut it out, she scolds herself. George Weasley is nothing more than an annoying git, you do not like him.
“Why are you following me, anyway? Last I checked Gryffindor’s common room is in the other direction,” she questions as they head down towards the Great Hall.
Y/N watches George shrug out of the corner of her eye. His face is blank, but Y/N can tell that he’s nervous. “Making sure you’re not getting up to anything is all.”
“Or you’re distracting me while your brother sets up some kind of trap,” she responds.
Suddenly she feels George’s hand wrap around her wrist and he’s pulling her into a nearby broom closet. As he slams the door shut behind them Y/N can’t help but notice just how close they are. Her back is pressed up against the wall and George is standing only a few inches away, his hands on either side of her head.
“What the hell is wrong with you?” Y/N demands, hoping that her voice doesn’t shake. George is towering over her, and Y/N can see the muscles on his forearms bulging in her peripheral vision. It is taking every ounce of willpower in her body to stay still.
George leans down as he chuckles and his warm breath tickles Y/N’s cheeks, causing a shiver to run down her spine. “I think what you mean to say is thank you because I just saved your ass from serving another detention with McGonagall.”
Her eyebrows knit together in confusion. “McGonagall? I didn’t see-.“ Y/N’s sentence is cut short as George places his hand over her mouth to silence her. Her breathing involuntarily speeds up and she hopes that George can’t feel the blush on her cheeks. Y/N can hear footsteps approaching the broom closet and she closes her eyes in fear of being caught in such a compromising position with George.
Thankfully the footsteps disappear just as quicky as they had come and Y/N sighs in relief when George takes his hand away. “Thank you,” she mutters. Y/N can still feel the imprint of his hand on her mouth and it makes her stomach feel queasy.
“You’re welcome,” George says, sounding pleased with himself. “We should probably stay here for a moment or two longer, just to make sure she’s gone.”
Y/N nods, her head tilting back so she can look at George’s face. She examines his features closely, trying to commit them to memory. After her realization earlier in the week she had spent every moment trying not to think about George, but now that they’re standing there so close he’s the only thing she can think about.
George clears his throat suddenly, breaking Y/N from her thoughts. “We’re uh, we’re probably good to go.”
“Yeah,” she agrees softly, trying not to let the disappointment she feels seep into her voice.
George lingers a moment longer, before he pulls away and slowly opens the door to their hiding spot. Y/N watches as he checks the hallway and follows him out when the coast is clear.
“Well um. Thanks for that,” she stutters, rubbing the back of her neck. “I’ll see you around, I guess.” Y/N starts to walk away, but she pauses when George follows behind her. She turns to look at him. “What are you doing?”
“You might still be up to something. I should follow you, just to make sure,” he responds confidently.
Y/N rolls her eyes but doesn’t say anymore, not wanting her giddiness to become noticeable. They walk side by side silently with Y/N glancing at George every few steps. As they reach the landing Y/N goes to turn down the corridor that will lead her down into the dungeons when she runs smack into someone for the second time that night. Except this time, it’s much less enjoyable.
“Professor Umbridge! I am so sorry,” Y/N apologizes as she fixes her balance. She may hate the woman, but she’ll be nice to her if it’ll get her out of a detention.
“Oh Ms. Y/L/N it is quite alright,” she practically squeaks while smiling at Y/N. Y/N imagines it’s meant to seem sweet, but it looks more like an evil grin. Umbridge’s eyes suddenly narrow as she looks past Y/N at George. “Mr. Weasley! Out in the corridors past curfew again I see. That’ll be detention with me, Monday and Tuesday evening.”
Y/N can hear George sputter behind her, and she turns around, cringing at the angry look on his face. “What about Y/N?” he asks angrily. “She’s out past curfew as well!”
Umbridge tuts, moving past Y/N as she heads back towards her office. “Yes, but Ms. Y/L/N is Head Girl I’m sure she has a good reason for being out in the halls.” Umbridge puts her hand up to stop George from responding. “Now that is enough out of you, Mr. Weasley. I suggest you head back to your common room before I make your detention a whole week.”
They both watch as Umbridge walks away and when Y/N turns to look at George, he’s already watching her. “I’m really sorry about that, George,” she says quietly.
George scoffs. “Yeah whatever.” He stalks off then, and it takes everything in Y/N to not follow behind him.
-
As Y/N enters the common room her plan is to stalk off to her dorm and get in bed as quick as possible. She’s gone through a whirlwind of emotions over the past few hours and all she wants to do is fall asleep, so she doesn’t have to feel any of them. All of that changes however, since when Y/N finally steps into the common room there is music blaring and people are everywhere.
Y/N makes eye contact with Adrian across the crowd and he clumsily waves her over. She slowly makes her way through the crowd. The air is heavy and hot from all of the people and it smells of firewhiskey. When she finally reaches Adrian, he stumbles over his own feet as he pulls her closer and she notices Marcus is seated on the couch with Daphne sprawled out across his lap; all of her friends are clearly very, very drunk.
“Y/N! You made it!” Daphne yells happily when she notices Y/N’s arrival. She wobbles as she gets out of Marcus’ lap and practically falls into Y/N, giving her a tight hug.
“Someone’s having a good time,” Y/N says with a laugh. Drunk Daphne is one of Y/N’s favorite things, and it’s rare that she gets to see it. Daphne is always prim and proper. She never has a hair out of place and she rarely lets herself goof off with her friends; she’s always their voice of reason. So, when she lets loose, she really goes for it, and it always leaves Y/N in hysterics.
“Where’ve you been? Party started ages ago,” Marcus says slowly, his words slurring together. He grabs Daphne’s hands and tries to pull her into his lap, but they’re both so drunk that they end up falling over, and Daphne somehow ends up on the ground with Marcus on top of her.
Y/N and Adrian burst out in laughter, with Adrian leaning on Y/N for support. His drink sloshes in his hand, and Y/N takes it from him to avoid it spilling everywhere. She eyes his glass warily, trying to decide if she wants to join her friends in drunk land. Her plan had been to sleep away her emotions but drinking them away will work just as well.
“I guess I have some catching up to do then.” Y/N downs the entire glass in one go, her warm bed long forgotten.
A few hours and far too many glasses of Firewhiskey later the party has died down and Y/N is slumped over in the corner of the common room, cradled in a large pile of pillows that Adrian had assembled for her. Daphne and Marcus had disappeared several minutes ago, probably to make out somewhere and once they had Adrian moved from the nearby couch to join Y/N. He’s laying on his back, head in Y/N’s lap as he listens to her complain about George Weasley.
“He’s just so annoying,” she drawls, her words coming out fairly jumbled. Y/N has said the same sentence at least five times in the past 10 minutes, but she’s too drunk to remember or care. She’s been rambling on about George and every mildly annoying this he’s done since the moment they’ve met and she’s having a hard time remembering what she’s already mentioned. “And his face, don’t even get me started on his face.”
When Adrian groans she smacks him on the forehead. “Can’t you talk about something else,” he murmurs. “Anything else, please.”
Y/N smacks him on the forehead again before starting to run her fingers through his hair. It’s his only weakness and she’s hoping it’ll keep him quiet. “There is nothing else to talk about,” she says, her tone condescending. “It’s empty up here, no thoughts,” she giggles, hitting herself lightly in the head with her free hand. “No thoughts, just George Weasley and his face. His pretty, pretty face. And oh god his lips. They look so damn soft. D’you think their soft?”
Adrian hums, not really paying attention to the words coming out of Y/N’s mouth. She’d started to lightly scratch his scalp as she talked, and any ability he had to comprehend the English language disappeared. “Yeah sure, whatever.”
Y/N sighs dreamily, thinking about what it would be like to kiss George. “Bet he’s really good at it,” she muses. “And his hands,” she adds a moment later, practically moaning. “They’re so big and strong. He’s got good fingers too. Bet he knows how to use them.” Y/N rubs her thighs together involuntarily as she feels herself starting to get turned on. Y/N’s eyes start to close as the copious amount of alcohol she drank starts to catch up with her. “You wanna know something funny? I don’t hate George Weasley anymore.”
“Is that so?” Adrian mumbles, starting to drift off as well.
“Mhm,” she hums. “I’m pretty sure I’m in love with him.”
-
The next morning Y/N is awake far earlier than she’d like to be. Adrian’s elbow was digging into her back, and she tried to ignore it for as long as possible, but eventually she just gave up and pulled herself off of the floor.
Her head is pounding, she feels groggy and she desperately wants to crawl into her bed. But her stomach grumbles loudly and so instead of dragging her body down the staircase that would lead to her dorm, she drags herself towards the portrait hole, still in the clothes she had on yesterday.
When Y/N finally makes it to the Great Hall she practically crawls over to the Slytherin table and plops down in the first open seat. Thankfully it’s still early, so not many people are around and it’s fairly quiet. She starts to grab random food, not really caring what it is. She’s cursing herself for challenging Adrian to a drinking contest as she goes to grab the pitcher of orange juice, but a large hand beats her to it.
“George?” she asks in surprise when she looks up.
He doesn’t say anything as he fills her goblet up for her. He takes a seat across from her and fills his own goblet before he starts to pile eggs on his plate. “Yes?” he answers casually, as if he eats breakfast with Y/N every morning.
“What are you doing here?” Y/N watches George as he begins to eat, her eyes searching his face for some kind of hint of what he’s up to. George shrugs as a light laugh tumbles from his mouth.
“Eating breakfast?” he asks, gesturing to his plate like it’s obvious. “What does it look like I’m doing?”
Y/N rolls her eyes playfully, watching as he grabs an apple. She watches as his fingers wrap around it and she practically drools. A tingle runs down her spine as she imagines his fingers wrapping around something else.
“Obviously I can see that you’re eating,” she says a moment later when her thoughts become PG. “I meant what are you doing sitting here. With me. At the Slytherin table.”
George smirks at her. “Why? Do I make you nervous?” His lips wrap around the apple as he takes a bite, and Y/N has to take a bite of her muffin to stop herself from moaning right there in the middle of the Great Hall.
George’s hair is ruffled from sleep, and he looks cozy in the homemade jumper he’s wearing. His eyes are soft, and his lips look even softer. Y/N is dreaming about what it would feel like to lean across the table and kiss him, when she realizes that he asked her a question.
“Not at all,” she says, her voice shaking. “It just isn’t like you, that’s all. Besides last night when you left it seemed like you were angry at me,” she trails off, her voice soft. She looks down at her plate to avoid his gaze.
“I’m sorry about that, Y/N,” George admits sheepishly. Y/N’s skin tingles when he nudges her leg with his foot under the table. She looks up to meet his gaze, instantly returning his warm smile. “It’s not your fault Umbridge is a toad.”
Y/N laughs, completely entranced by George. “I should have said something. Made up an excuse for you.” She worries her bottom lip between her teeth for a moment. “I’m sorry.”
“Don’t worry about it,” he says, waving away her apology. They both just look at each other, the food on their plates long forgotten. Y/N lets her gaze wander to George’s lips again as she thinks about kissing him. She starts to involuntarily inch closer and to her surprise, George starts doing the same thing.
“Uh, Y/N?”
Y/N and George jump apart, startled by the sudden intrusion. Y/N looks over to see Astoria standing next to her, clearly surprised by what she had just witnessed. Y/N feels her cheeks heating up, and she fidgets in her seat.
“Hey, Astoria. What’s up?” Y/N asks, trying to sound casual, like her best friend’s little sister didn’t just catch her about to kiss George in the middle of the Great Hall.
“Daphne is asking for you. She’s throwing up in the dorm bathroom.”
Y/N rolls her eyes with a huff. “Of course, she is, poor girl can’t handle her alcohol.” She stands suddenly, nodding awkwardly at George. “Weasley,” she says curtly. She gives a wayward glance to Astoria before she heads for the exit, trying to walk as quickly as possible without looking like she’s running away.
-
“And you don’t remember anything?” Y/N questions Adrian as they head up to breakfast on Monday morning. After she fled the Great Hall yesterday morning she’d spent the rest of the day with Daphne going between the bathroom in their dorm and her bed, with Astoria sneaking in food for them. As she sat holding Daphne’s hair back Y/N had a chance to replay the events of Saturday night, and all of the things she had said to Adrian about George became clear to her. She was panicking all night, hoping that he didn’t remember any of what she had said.
Adrian nods. “Not a thing. Last thing I remember is you challenging me to a drinking contest. Everything after that is completely blank. Probably due to the 10 shots we took,” he says with a laugh. “I was so confused when I woke up in the common room.”
Y/N breathes a sigh of relief. She’s barely come to terms with the fact that George Weasley is no longer her mortal enemy, but someone she truly cares deeply for, so she is definitely not ready to share that with her friends.
“Why do you care so much? You confess your love for me or something?” Adrian asks as they enter the Great Hall.
Y/N lets her eyes scan the Gryffindor table, a pink blush forming on her cheeks when she spots George. He looks prim and proper in his school robes and his hair is neat. She bites her lip, imagining what it would be like to fuss up his hair with her hands with their bodies pressed together so tightly that their uniforms wrinkled. When George suddenly makes eye contact with her she looks away, bringing her attention back to Adrian.
“Nothing like that,” she insists, shoving him playfully. “I was just rambling on and on. I sounded like an idiot, most of it didn’t even make sense.”
“What didn’t make sense?” Daphne asks as Y/N and Adrian sit across from her and Marcus.
“The things I rambled on about in Adrian’s ear on Saturday after you two disappeared,” Y/N says with a laugh. She reaches for the orange juice, a small smile appearing on her lips as it reminds her of George.
“Aw you were rambley drunk? How cute. I’m sad I missed it,” Marcus teases.
Y/N throws a grape at him. “If you weren’t so busy sucking face with Daphne, you could have witnessed it.” Marcus and Daphne both blush at that, causing Adrian and Y/N to laugh. “I don’t know why you’re laughing, Pucey. You were cuddly drunk. I ran my hand through your hair, and you were practically mewling.”
Adrian blushes and bats at Y/N’s hand as she pinches his cheek. “Thank god I don’t remember that then.”
-
Unlike last week, Y/N spends most of her time on Monday and Tuesday trying to get close to George. She heads to meals a tad earlier than her friends, hoping that he’ll join her briefly. She gets to class early, hoping that he may arrive on his own and they can talk. But every time she tries she either doesn’t happen to run into him or he’s too busy messing around with Fred to notice her presence.
“Oof. Sorry,” Y/N grunts as she runs into someone. One of the Ravenclaw Prefects is sick, so Y/N volunteered to spend most of her Tuesday night patrolling the halls of the castle. Patrolling was one of her favorite duties as a Prefect, since it gave her time to just be by herself and think. She had let her mind wander to George, and she was in the middle of quite the raunchy daydream.
“What are you doing? Trying to mow me down?” the person asks with a chuckle.
“George, hey,” she greets airily. Y/N takes a step back so she can look up at him, a dopey smile on her face. “What are you doing out here? Kinda late, innit?”
“Maybe I’m here to see you,” he responds, causing Y/N to look away and blush. “I was serving my detention with Umbridge,” he reminds her, gesturing towards the corridor he had just come down.
She glances at her watch before looking back to him. “And she just let you out now? What did she have you do, polish all those weird cat plates?”
George chuckles. “Writing lines, actually.”
“Must have been enough to fill a book with how late it is,” she jokes as they start to walk together. George fidgets beside her, and she gives him a look. “You alright?”
George hums and absentmindedly brings a hand up to run through his hair. Y/N’s eyes widen when she notices the back of his hand is bleeding, and she grabs it before he has a chance to hide it. “It’s not as bad as it looks,” he mumbles, trying to pull his hand away.
Y/N tightens her grip, too focused on his injury to think about how perfect his hand feels in hers. “What is this, George? How did this happen?”
George sighs. “Umbridge had me use her special quill to write my lines.”
Y/N ghosts her finger over the wound, giving George an apologetic look when he winces. As she examines the wound she can make out what is it, the wound in his hand spells out ‘I must not break the rules’ in his messy handwriting. A sudden wave of rage washes over Y/N and she releases George’s hand so she can stomp towards Umbridge’s office.
“Y/N what are you doing?” George asks as he follows, though he’s pretty sure he knows that answer.
“I’m going to go give that toad a piece of my mind. That’s how she punishes people. Torture? That’s mental.”
George catches up to her quickly, and he wraps his fingers around her wrist, pulling her into his chest. He wraps his arms around her shoulders, holding her tightly against him. She breathes in his scent, wanting to just melt into his embrace. But she resists the urge and struggles against it, desperately trying to get out.
“Let me go, George,” she grumbles, wiggling in his grip.
“Absolutely not, Y/N. What good is yelling at her going to do? All that’s going to do is get you in detention as well and I’m not going to let you do that to yourself.”
Y/N wiggles against his grip for a few more moments before she gives up, her anger deflating. She relaxes in George’s arms and buries her face in his chest. She feels lightheaded as she takes slow, deep breaths, enjoying being this close to George. They stand like that for a few minutes, just enjoying being in each other’s presence, only breaking apart when they hear the door to Umbridge’s office open.
“Shit,” George whispers. He releases Y/N from his grip so he can grab her hand, intertwining their fingers. “Quick, follow me.” George leads them down the hallway and through a few different corridors before he stops in front of a tapestry.
“What are you doing?” she asks as the sound of footsteps echoes through the empty space.
George shushes her, and Y/N watches in amazement as he taps his wand to the tapestry, and it swings to the side, revealing a hole in the wall.
“Woah, this is so cool,” she comments as George pulls her in behind him. The tapestry immediately closes behind them, and George waves his wand so the torches that line the walls light up. “How do you know about this place?”
George shrugs, leaning up against the wall. “Fred and I have explored the entire castle. There isn’t a secret passageway or hidden corridor that we haven’t found.”
They stand there in silence while Y/N looks around the small passageway. She can feel George’s eyes on her and she’s doing everything she can to not return his gaze. Her body feels like it’s on fire, the feeling of George’s grip on her shoulders still fresh in her mind.
“You know if you want to spend time alone with me all you have to do is ask,” she teases a moment later, finally looking at George. She’s leaning on the wall opposite him, her bottom lip caught between her teeth. She starts to fiddle with a stray string on the bottom hem of her skirt, needing to keep her hands busy to avoid wrapping them around George’s tie to pull him close. “You don’t have to keep pulling me into dark rooms.”
George looks Y/N up and down, a smirk forming on his face. “Is that so? After you practically ran away from me at breakfast on Sunday I didn’t think you’d want to be alone with me.” He sounds confident, but Y/N can tell that there’s an underlying tinge of insecurity in his voice.
Y/N frowns and pushes away from the wall so she can take a small step towards him. “I tried to catch you alone all day yesterday and today,” she says softly. “But every time I tried you were with your stupid brother.”
“Well every time I tried to catch you alone you were with your stupid friends,” he says with a chuckle, copying her frustrated tone. George takes a small step towards her, so there’s only a few feet between them.
“I’m sorry, by the way. For running away from you the other day. Astoria startled me and I panicked,” she pauses, taking another small step forward. They’re standing so close that Y/N can smell him, and her brain goes fuzzy. “I should have stayed,” she admits quietly.
George licks his lips as he takes a final small step forward. They’re now only a few centimeters apart, and he grips Y/N’s hip softly. “What would have happened?” His eyes flick down to Y/N’s lips before meeting hers again. “If you had stayed, what would have happened?”
Y/N can feel her heart pounding in her chest, and her face is warm. “I. I would have.”
But she doesn’t get to finish her sentence. George leans down and presses their lips together, kissing her sweetly as his other hand comes up to rest on her neck. Y/N feels lightheaded as her lips start to move with George’s, her arms winding around his neck. George backs them up as he deepens the kiss, pressing Y/N up against the wall. She moans as her back hits the hard stone, allowing George to lick into her mouth.
“I would have done that,” she finishes once George pulls away, her breathing heavy.
George chuckles before kissing her again briefly. “You sound so fucking hot when you moan,” he teases, kissing her again as her cheeks flush pink.
Y/N returns his kiss eagerly, letting her fingers tangle in the hair at the base of his neck as both his hands come to rest on her hips. Her brain is in overdrive, trying to process everything that’s happening. She wants to commit it all to memory, in case this is the only time it happens. She’s thinking about how good of a kisser he is, and how perfectly their mouths fit together when George pulls away.
“Bet you would sound even hotter moaning my name,” he whispers in her ear, before he starts to trail kisses down Y/N’s neck.
A soft whine leaves Y/N’s lips as she tilts her head back, giving George more room to kiss. She tugs his hair and the groan he lets out against her neck goes right to her core and arousal starts to blossom in her stomach. His grip on her hips tightens as he begins to suck a mark into her neck. “George,” she moans, her eyes fluttering closed.
Y/N can feel George smirk into her neck before he pulls away and reconnects their lips. He pushes their bodies together tighter, shoving her legs apart with one of his own. She instinctively grinds down against it to get relief from her aching pussy, causing both of them to moan lowly.
“Holy fuck, Y/N,” George growls as he breaks their kiss. He looks over her as she continues to grind against his thigh, in awe of how beautiful she is. Her face is flushed red, her lips are swollen from his kisses and breathy moans are falling from her mouth as her hips move back and forth.
Y/N tugs her bottom lip between her teeth to try and contain the noises that are creeping up her throat as she works towards her climax. Her hips move sloppily, giving her clit the perfect amount of friction against George’s muscular thigh. “Fuck,” she breathes and opens her eyes so she can gaze into his, a moan falling from her lips when she sees how dark his eyes are.
George kisses her for a brief moment, his cock starting to harden in his trousers. He craves the feeling of her lips, but the noises coming from her mouth are too intoxicating to cut off. “You look so pretty, darling, getting yourself off on my thigh.”
George’s words only turn Y/N on more and she starts to move her hips faster, desperate for her release. “George,” she moans, tugging on his hair again. “Please, please, George,” she begs.
George presses kisses to Y/N’s jaw as his grip on her hips tightens. He pulls her down harder against his thigh and smirks when she whines loudly. “What do you want darling? Hm?”
“I’m so close,” she gasps. “Please, George. Can I,” her words turn into a moan as George forces her down harder against this thigh again. Y/N can feel her climax approaching and her body feels like it’s on fire. “Please, let me come, George. Please,” she begs breathily.
George’s cock twitches in his trousers and he groans as he realizes what Y/N is begging him for. Permission. “Go on darling, come for me.”
George’s voice is husky, and as soon as the words leave his mouth Y/N’s hips stutter as she reaches her climax, George’s name falling from her mouth. She tugs his hair lightly as she comes, pleasure washing over her like a wave. George rubs her hips and presses open mouthed kisses to her jaw and neck as her hips start to slow down.
“Oh my god,” Y/N pants, resting her forehead against George’s shoulder. Her legs feel like jelly and a moan falls from her mouth when she shifts on George’s thigh and her sensitive clit rubs against her panties.
George laughs lightly and brings a hand up to stroke Y/N’s hair. “That was so fucking hot,” he murmurs, pressing a kiss to her temple. He removes his leg from between hers but keeps a tight grip on her hip to make sure she’s steady. “Like really fucking hot, Y/N. Holy shit.”
Y/N buries her face in George’s neck, pressing a few light kisses to his skin. “No, it was embarrassing,” she mumbles. She’d never felt the need to ask for permission to come with any of the other people she’d been intimate with, but there was something about George. Y/N felt comfortable with him, she felt safe enough to let her walls down; to be completely vulnerable to him.
“Hey, look at me,” he says softly. George waits for Y/N to pick her head up and look up at him before he continues. “You will never have anything to be embarrassed about with me. Ever.”
Instead of responding, Y/N kisses him desperately and reaches down to palm his hardening erection through his trousers. George groans into the kiss, his hips automatically rolling to meet her movements. Her lips start to kiss across his jaw and down George’s neck, nibbling lightly.
Y/N pauses her kissing so she can lean up and whisper into George’s ear. “Your turn,” she teases. George curses softly as she removes her hand from his crotch, and she places a quick kiss on his lips before she pushes him away slightly. Y/N slowly sinks down to her knees and starts to work at the button of George’s trousers.
“God you are gorgeous,” he says dreamily as he tangles his fingers in her hair.
Y/N can feel the blush creeping up her face as she undoes George’s trousers. She looks up at him as she pulls his trousers and boxers down together just enough to free his cock. Y/N slowly wraps her hand around the base of his cock, a smirk forming on her face when he groans.
George’s grip on her hair tightens as Y/N begins to slowly stroke him. “Merlin that feels good,” George moans, causing Y/N to increase her pace.
She leans forward and takes him into her mouth, her hand continuing to stroke what she can’t fit in her mouth. George is quite well endowed, and Y/N rubs her thighs together as she starts to bob her head, imaging what he’d feel like inside her.
“Such a good girl. Sucking my cock so well,” George praises. His breathing starts to get heavier as Y/N’s tongue starts to swirl around his sensitive head and when she looks up at him he has to look away to avoid coming right then and there. Y/N looks absolutely sinful with her lips wrapped around his cock, and George is sure that image will be imprinted in his brain forever.
George’s grunts echo throughout the passageway as Y/N starts to move faster, wanting George to fill her mouth with his release. She takes him down even further, gagging slightly when the tip of his cock hits the back of her throat. George uses the grip he has on Y/N’s hair to help guide her head, his hips starting to slowly meet her movement.
Y/N hums in approval and pulls her head off of his cock for a moment to catch her breath. She strokes him with her hand for a moment, her thumb circling his sensitive head. “Fuck my mouth George, please,” she begs, before swallowing him down again.
“Such a dirty girl aren’t you Y/N?” he teases as he wraps his hand in her hair, gripping it tightly. “Such a slut for my cock already, hm?” He lets out a groan as he starts to move her head on his cock, his hips meeting each stroke. “Fuck, darling. Your mouth feels amazing,” he moans, starting to fuck her mouth faster. “Good girl,” he praises as she gags around him.
Y/N can’t help but slip her hand under her skirt and into her panties, letting her index and middle finger toy with her clit. George’s cock is heavy against her tongue and his dirty words are sending shivers down her spine and into her core. She’s still sensitive from her previous orgasm, and she moans around George’s cock as drool drips down her chin. She starts to work her clit faster, her second orgasm quickly approaching.
“Getting close, darling,” he grunts. “Gonna shoot my load right into your pretty little mouth.” George watches as Y/N squirms, a wicked grin forming on his mouth. “Are you touching yourself darling?” A shiver runs down his spine and he slams his cock into the back of her throat harder when she hums around him. “Such a dirty little girl you are, Y/N.” His tone is patronizing, and it only turns Y/N on more. “Love having my cock in your mouth that much, hm?”
Y/N whines around his cock, her hips moving in time with her finger’s movements on her clit. She brings her free hand up under her shirt and bra so she can massage her breast, her fingers pinching her nipple. Her climax is building rapidly, and Y/N looks up at George her eyes full of arousal and desperation.
George bites his lip as he looks down at Y/N, knowing exactly what she needs. His strokes become shallow as his own orgasm approaches, a low moan falling from his lips. “Go on, darling. Be a good girl and come for me.”
Y/N’s whole-body shakes as she comes, her second orgasm even stronger than the first. Her lips clamp down around George’ cock even tighter, bringing him to his climax as well. He pulls her hair as he empties himself into Y/N’s mouth, her name spilling from his mouth in hard pants. She continues to toy with her clit lightly as aftershocks of pleasure continue to roll through her body.
George loosens his grip on her hair as he slowly pulls out, his mouth running dry as saliva and some of his cum dribble down Y/N’s chin. He watches as she swallows his release, his cock twitching at the sight. He tucks his cock back into his trousers, wincing as the head brushes up against the fabric. Y/N looks up at him as she wipes the drool from her chin, looking far too innocent after what just happened. Her lips are red and swollen, almost begging for him to kiss her.
He releases her hair and helps Y/N to her feet. His arms wrap around her waist and he brings their lips together. They kiss slowly and messily, both of them too tired to care. George licks into her mouth, not caring that he can taste himself on her tongue. They stand there kissing for a few minutes, only breaking apart when the need for air becomes too much.
“You think the coast is clear?” Y/N asks with a giggle, her voice hoarse.
George chuckles and presses a kiss to her forehead. “I certainly hope so, because I’m absolutely knackered and if I have to spend another minute in here with you after what just happened I’m not going to be able to control myself.”
-
Wednesday morning arrives far too quickly for Y/N’s liking. She had fallen asleep as soon as her head hit the pillow, but when Daphne starts to shake her awake it feels like she hadn’t even slept at all.
“Five more minutes, mum, “ she groans. Her throat feels raw and Y/N can’t help but blush as the memories of last night run through her mind. She had wanted to confess everything to George as they snuck out of the passageway, but she couldn’t bring herself to do it. As they stepped out into the empty hallway the haze of sexual tension around them broke, and when George headed off back to his dorm with nothing more than a wink and a kiss on the cheek Y/N’s stomach sank.
Y/N had felt nothing but pure joy after her and George’s activities and her heart felt as if it would beat out of her chest. She knew that she was in love with him, and after he had been so tender with her she was sure that he returned her feelings. But after he left her behind so quickly, she couldn’t help but think it had all been in her head.
“Five more minutes will turn to 10, which will turn into you missing breakfast. And you know how you get when you’re hungry, so get your ass out of bed,” Daphne scolds lightly.
Y/N groans but rolls out of bed, her heart heavy and her knees aching.
“What do you think they’re talking about?” Daphne whispers to Y/N as they enter the Great Hall, gesturing towards Fred and George.
Y/N allows herself to look quickly, her heart rate increasing as her eyes pass over George. Memories of last night swim to the surface, and she swallows hard, willing them away. The twins have their heads together and they’re talking feverishly, clearly up to something. “Dunno really,” she answers, tearing her gaze away. “Probably planning their next prank or something.” Y/N and Daphne sit down with Adrian and Marcus and she grabs some toast, not really feeling up to eating.
“So, what are you gonna do?” Daphne asks as they start to eat.
Y/N gives her a look. “What am I gonna do about what?”
Daphne rolls her eyes. “Come one, it’s been what, two weeks since the twins have done something to you? They’ve gotta be over there cooking up some grand scheme against you.”
Y/N goes to respond, but she suddenly feels sick as George’s actions over the past few days start to make sense. He wasn’t in love with her, he was trying to embarrass her? Use her? Get information on her for him and Fred to use against her? She wasn’t exactly sure, but her heart sinks into her stomach. Whatever it was it couldn’t be good.
“I think I’m gonna head to Potions early,” she says suddenly, standing up. Adrian, Marcus and Daphne give her a look.
“You haven’t even eaten anything,” Adrian says, trying to pull her back down.
She bats his hand away and gathers her bag. “I’m not really that hungry. I’ll see you guys later.”
Without another word she’s heading out of the Great Hall, her friends and George all casting her back worried glances.
-
Y/N spends all day ignoring George despite his efforts to get her to pay attention to him. He spends all of Potions throwing rolled up pieces of parchment at her back, he tries to pull faces at her all during lunch and he spends most of charms slipping her notes. It had taken all of her willpower not to let him break her down. She’s so desperately in love with him that she’s almost willing to let him break her heart just so she can be close to him again.
“Finally, I’ve been looking for you all evening.”
Y/N doesn’t look up from her Herbology assignment as George takes a seat across from her. Her friends had been giving her worried glances all day, so after a quick dinner she tucked herself away in a corner of the library to avoid the confrontation she’s sure she’d get in the common room. She had figured she’d be safe from George as well, since Y/N is sure she’s never seen him, or Fred enter the library in the seven years they’ve been at school.
“What’s going on with you?” George asks softly when she doesn’t say anything. He’d been looking forward to seeing Y/N in the morning, and after her weird behavior at breakfast he had tried everything to get her attention.
Y/N glances at George quickly before she turns back to her assignment. “I could say the same to you,” she says coldly. When George doesn’t say anything Y/N sighs and puts her quill down, finally looking at George fully. “What were you and Fred talking about this morning? During breakfast.”
George taps his fingers against the table, his eyes starting deeply into Y/N’s. “He was asking me why I got back from my detention so late last night.” His cheeks are flushed pink and Y/N bites her lip to keep from smiling.
“What did you tell him? Did you tell him how easy I was? How desperate I was for you? How I touched myself? That I asked you for permission to finish?” she sneers, suddenly filled with rage.
George’s jaw practically drops to the table, his eyes widening in shock. “What? Why would I say any of that to him?” George asks, watching as Y/N starts to gather up her things.
“Because last night was just some big joke to you, wasn’t it?” she asks, as if the answer is obvious. “You don’t have feelings for me, you were just trying to get me into bed so you could have blackmail material or something. And I fell for it. Because I’m a big dumb idiot who is too in love to realize when she’s being played.”
Before George can even process what Y/N has just said she’s gone, tears streaming down her face and her heart broken in her chest.
-
“What’s wrong Y/N?” Daphne asks, taking a seat on the edge of her bed.
She isn’t completely surprised that Daphne had come to find her. When Y/N returned from the library, she was full on crying. She had ignored her friend’s attempts to talk to her and stormed right to her dorm room so she could crawl into her bed and sob. Daphne starts to stroke her hair, and Y/N wipes away some of her tears.
“I’m in love with George Weasley,” Y/N mumbles into her pillow.
Daphne’s hand pauses. “Come again?”
“I’m in love with George Weasley,” Y/N huffs, turning over so she’s facing Daphne. Her whole-body tenses, waiting for Daphne to laugh or make some kind of snide comment. But it doesn’t happen. Instead Daphne starts to stroke her hair again as she wipes away some of her tears.
“Honestly that’d make me cry as well,” she says with a laugh, trying to get Y/N to smile. When it works and Y/N cracks a small smile Daphne continues. “So, what happened? Did he say something rude? Because if he did I swear to you I’ll have Adrian and Marcus break into Gryffindor tower and beat him up.”
Y/N can’t help but let out a quiet laugh. She sits up in bed, wiping away the last few tears. “I ran into him last night when I was doing my rounds. And Umbridge almost caught us so we ran and hid in this weird secret passageway and um,” she pauses, swallowing thickly. “We kissed. And fooled around a little. Or a lot.”
“And that’s why you’re crying? Was it bad? Did you fake your orgasm?” Daphne teases.
Y/N rolls her eyes as a blush starts to form on her cheeks. “No, that’s not it. It was quite enjoyable I’ll have you know,” she says playfully, shoving Daphne’s shoulder lightly. “It was what happened afterward.”
“He said something stupid, didn’t he? My offer still stands, I will have Adrian and Marcus go beat him up,” Daphne says her tone serious.
“He didn’t really say anything,” Y/N explains, choosing to ignore Daphne’s threats for now. “But you said it yourself this morning at breakfast. He was talking with Fred, probably planning some prank on me.” Y/N pauses to swallow the lump in her throat and blink away the tears that threaten to spill down her cheeks. “It was all probably just some prank or set up or blackmail or something. I mean why would he wanna be with me,” she says lamely, looking down at her hands.
Daphne scoffs and puts her finger under Y/N’s chin, forcing her to return her gaze. “If George Weasley doesn’t want to be with you then he is a big fat idiot. Y/N you are amazing. And beautiful and smart and way too nice for your own good. You may have questionable taste in men, but I’ve been snogging Marcus since third year so I’m not really one to judge.”
Y/N laughs and pulls Daphne into a hug. Her heart still aches for George, but she feels a tiny bit better knowing that she has Daphne on her side.
-
Despite the fact that Y/N has been ignoring George all day, she finds herself heading to the Room of Requirement on Wednesday evening for a DA meeting. There are nervous butterflies in her stomach as she approaches but she doesn’t turn back. The DA is one of the only good things she’s had going on this year, and she’ll be damned if she lets George Weasley ruin that for her. Y/N had felt his eyes on her all day, and she hates to admit that it made her feel lightheaded.
She stops outside of the room of requirement to collect herself. Y/N takes a few deep breaths, trying to clear the thoughts of George from her mind. She’s semi-successful and she holds her head high as she throws the door open and steps inside.
“What the fuck?” she says, her eyes wandering around the room as the door shuts behind her. Y/N had certainly not been expecting the scene around her when she walked in. The room is dimly lit, with most of the lighting coming from candles that are floating around the room. There’s no furniture or practice dummies in sight, and the only other person in the room is George. He’s standing smack in the middle of the room watching her, a small smile on his face.
“I couldn’t think of any other way to get you alone,” he says after a moment, reaching a hand out towards Y/N. “So, I had Hermione send an alert out to your Galleon and hoped that you would show up.”
Y/N walks further into the room cautiously, still unsure as to what exactly is going on. She stands a few feet away from George, resisting the urge to take his hand and fall into his chest. “Okay but why?.” She pauses, her eyes scanning the room again. “If this is some kind of elaborate set up and Fred is about to jump out of somewhere I swear to Merlin George I will kill you.”
George chuckles and shakes his head, taking a step towards Y/N. When she doesn’t flinch, he takes another one. “I promise you; Y/N. Fred is nowhere near here.” He bites his lip, looking at Y/N closely. “This is just me, desperately trying to fix whatever mess I got us into.” When she doesn’t say anything George continues, needing to fill the awkward silence of the room. “Tuesday night was incredible. Best night of my life, hands down. I thought, I thought things would be different with us, afterwards. But then you didn’t even look at me all day yesterday and last night in the library that stuff you said,” he cuts himself off, running a hand through his hair in frustration. “I clearly did something wrong, but I’ve spent the past 24 hours thinking about everything I did, and I can’t seem to figure it out.”
“You didn’t say anything,” she says quietly after she lets George’s words soak in. When George raises his eyebrow in confusion she sighs. “On Tuesday, after everything that happened,” she clears her throat, trying to will the blush on her cheeks away. “When we were leaving you didn’t say anything. You just kind of left. I thought that it was just a one-time thing, that it didn’t mean the same to you as it did to me,” she admits quietly.
Y/N lets her eyes wander around the room, needing to look anywhere except for George’s face. Y/N likes to keep walls up around herself. She makes exceptions for her friends and her parents, the people she loves, but she keeps them up around others. She doesn’t like to show weakness, she doesn’t want to give people the opportunity to hurt her. On Tuesday Y/N had let all of those walls crumble to the ground the second George had kissed her and it felt incredible. She felt like she could truly be herself around him, and as much as she wishes she could build those walls up around her again it’s too late. Y/N has no choice but to stand here in this room and let George in.
“And then I just got all in my head,” she continues a moment later, finally letting herself look at George. Her heart is fluttering, and she can’t help but notice how good he looks. “When I went to breakfast that morning and you were whispering with Fred it looked like you guys were plotting something, like a prank or something. And it made me think that Tuesday was just some stupid prank. That you were gonna use the things I said against me, to embarrass me or something,” she mutters.
“Darling,” George starts, taking the last few steps to close the distance between them. He cups her cheek with one hand while the other reaches for one of hers. Y/N lets him grab her hand, and he intertwines their fingers. “I should have said something that night. There was so many things I wanted to say. But I didn’t want to overwhelm you. After that night we spent in detention I started to feel differently towards you. I knew you felt something too, but I wasn’t sure if you had realized it yet or not. So, when we left the passageway that night I wanted to give you time, to process everything.”
“I feel like such an idiot,” Y/N admits with a small smile. “I should have just said something instead of letting myself overthink it. I don’t like letting people in. But for some reason when I’m around you I can’t help but let you in. That night in detention I told you things not even Daphne knows. And then Tuesday, some of the things I said, I did,” she cuts herself off, a shiver running down her spine. “I’ve never let anyone see that side of me before and yet a few kisses from you had me blubbering like an idiot.”
“Blubbering like a wicked sexy idiot, darling,” George teases with a chuckle. He leans down and kisses her briefly. “I’m sorry, for not being clearer with my intentions.”
Y/N rolls her eyes, but there’s a warm smile on her face. “And what are those intentions?”
Her eyes flutter closed as George kisses her deeply, both of his hands landing on her bum, giving it a tight squeeze. She moans into the kiss and lets George’s tongue in to explore her mouth. She wraps her arms around George’s neck and pulls him flush to her body. George pulls away suddenly, with Y/N trying to chase his mouth.
George chuckles when she pouts at him. “To answer your question, darling. First, I’m going to fuck you into the mattress over there like the dirty little girl you are.” George pauses, pressing a kiss to Y/N’s lips as a shiver runs down her spine. “And then I’m going to hold you close and whisper how much I love you into your ear.”
Y/N pulls George’s face down and presses their lips together hotly, kissing him desperately. She jumps up, her legs wrapping around his waist and his hands gripping her bum tightly. George carries her over to the bed that had appeared at some point in the past few minutes and throws her down on it. He loosens his tie and throws it off over his head and starts to work on the buttons of his shirt. Y/N watches his fingers move, practically drooling as his pale chest becomes more and more exposed to her.
“What are you waiting for? Permission,” George teases, his voice gravelly and his eyes dark. “Get naked,” he demands a moment later when she still doesn’t move. “Let me see all of you.”
George’s voice causes goosebumps to appear all over Y/N’s body and her core starts to ache. She can already feel herself getting wet, and the way George is looking at her as she rids herself of her clothes is only making it worse.
In a matter of moments, they’re both naked, and Y/N can feel her skin flushing under George’s gaze. He’s standing by the edge of the bed, slowly stroking himself as his eyes run over her naked body. Her body is aching for his touch, and she squirms under his intense gaze. “Please, George,” she moans, one of her hands coming up to toy with her breasts.
In an instant George is on top of her, kissing her messily as his hands touch every inch of skin they can. He bats away the hand that’s palming her breast so he can take over, his fingers starting to toy with her sensitive nipple. Y/N moans into George’s mouth, arching her back to press herself up into him harder. George practically growls at her actions and his other hand grabs her left thigh, forcing her legs apart.
“What do you want, darling?” he asks hotly, his lips trailing kisses down her neck. “My fingers?” He releases her thigh and starts to ghost his fingers up her it towards her folds. “My mouth?” He latches onto her neck and starts to lightly suck, causing a sinful whine to leave her lips.
Y/N tangles her fingers in George’s hair, tugging lightly as she squirms under his touch. “Both, please,” she begs, her breath coming out in hard pants. George’s fingers have finally reached her core, and his index finger has started to slowly circle her clit.
“Both, hm? What a needy little girl you’re being, Y/N,” he chides, his mouth continuing to trail kisses down her neck and over her chest. “But how can I say no? Not when you’re being such a good girl and asking so nicely.”
Y/N moans. George’s thumb has started to rub soft circles on her clit while his mouth wraps around her breast, sucking her nipple lightly. When George had called her a good girl at the beginning of term it had filled her with rage, but now as he slowly pushes his index finger inside of her tight walls she thinks she could come just from him calling her that alone.
“Fuck, George,” she whines, clenching around his finger as he curls it inside of her. She can feel his smirk as he kisses down her stomach. Her hips start to move off of the bed as he starts to slowly fuck her with his finger. His free hand flies to her hip and pins it down against the bed.
“Don’t be so impatient, darling. I’m going to take my time with you,” he scolds. He pulls his finger out slowly, and when he pushes it back in another has joined it, causing Y/N to gasp. “You sound so pretty, darling. Such pretty noises,” he praises.
George moves down the bed as his lips ghost over her hip so he can position himself better for what’s about to happen. He stops his movements on her pussy suddenly, causing Y/N to whine at the loss. He grabs her thighs and pushes them farther apart, so she’s spread open for him. “Such a pretty pussy you have, darling,” he groans, his eyes gazing over her dripping folds. Y/N tries to shut her legs, but George’s grip tightens on her thighs, keeping them open. “Don’t be shy, darling,” he teases.
Y/N is writhing in George’s grasp, one hand is toying with her nipples while the other grips the bed sheets. “George, please,” she begs again, needing him to touch her. George chuckles and suddenly his mouth is on her, lightly sucking on her clit. “Oh fuck,” she shouts, her hand leaving her breast to tangle in George’s hair.
George’s tongue starts to tease Y/N’s clit, wrapping around the bud slowly before pulling away and coming to lightly flick at it. He wraps his arm around her left thigh as she begins to move her hips, forcing her back down against the bed. “Gonna need to get some rope to tie you up, keep you nice and open for me,” he murmurs before putting his mouth back on her aching core.
“Holy fuck, George,” Y/N moans as he suddenly plunges two fingers into her heat. She can’t help the sounds that are coming out of her mouth as George pleasures her, images of George tying her up floating in her mind. George hums in laughter as his fingers curl and brush up against Y/N’s sweet spot, causing her to moan again.
Y/N can feel her orgasm approaching, can feel the arousal building in her stomach. She wiggles her hips, trying to move away from George, and a squeal falls from her mouth when he pulls her even closer to his face. She grips his hair tightly and her toes curl as her orgasm approaches. Y/N yanks the sheets hard, her mouth opening and shutting unable to form a coherent thought due to George’s relentless pleasure.
“George please,” she sobs, her eyes screwing shut from the sheer amount of pleasure coursing through her body. Her legs are shaking as George licks at her core, his fingers hitting the spot inside her that drives her crazy with every thrust. “I need you. I need you to, George, please,” she begs. She’s teetering on the edge of her release, just needing that one final push that only George can provide.
“Need me to what, darling?” he asks coyly as he pulls his face away from her pussy. His thumb takes over the assault on her clit his tongue had been doing before, starting to rub it in hard circles.
“Please,” she begs again, tears starting to leak out the side of her eyes. Y/N has never been this turned on in her life. Her body is trembling, her need for release overwhelming every part of her.
George presses a few kisses to the hot skin on the inside of her thigh to hide his smile. Y/N looks absolutely ethereal as she wriggles in his grasp, begging him to let her come. Her hair is splayed out on the pillow behind her, and her neck looks like it’s begging to be bit. Her whole body is flushed, and a sheen of sweat has appeared over her skin.
“You are absolutely gorgeous, Y/N,” he compliments as he situates himself on top of her again. He leans on his forearm and presses their lips together briefly. “Such a good girl, darling. Go on be a good girl, come for me.”
George kisses her again as she comes, groaning as her walls tighten around his fingers. Y/N’s whole-body shakes as she comes, and George continues to slowly rub her clit as she comes down from her high. With one final curl of his fingers he removes them from her heat.
“You are a goddess,” he murmurs against her lips before he pulls away.
Y/N opens her eyes, smiling up at George. “And you’re a bloody fucking tease.”
George laughs and rolls onto his back, his arm winding around Y/N’s waist to pull her on top of him. Y/N giggles in delight, pressing their lips together in a heated kiss. She lets her hand trail along his chest as they kiss, pausing as she reaches his groin. “Now see if I really was a good girl,” she mocks her fingertips dancing on the skin just above the base of his cock. “I’d touch you but.” She sighs and brings her hand back up to rest on George’s chest. “I’m feeling kinda naughty.”
“Bold tactic for a girl who was just begging me to let her come a few seconds ago,” George responds playfully, leaning up to press their lips together again. Y/N squeals when George pulls her fully on top of him so she’s straddling his waist. “I know I said I was gonna fuck you into the mattress but,” he says with a sigh when he breaks their kiss. “I don’t know if naughty girls deserve my cock.”
Despite the fact that she had just come a few seconds ago, Y/N’s pussy is aching again. She pouts down at George, rolling her hips. A satisfied smirk appears on her face when he groans. “What if I promise to be a good girl?”
George rolls them over so she’s underneath him. “I think I can make an exception.” Y/N laughs as George kisses her and winds her legs around his waist. George lines himself up with her entrance, breaking their kiss so he can look at her. “Ready?” When Y/N nods George pushes his hips forward and slowly enters Y/N.
“Oh my god, George,” she gasps as her hands come up to grip his shoulders. George doesn’t stop until his hips are flush against Y/N’s bum.
“Fucking hell you’re tight, Y/N,” he groans, burying his face in her neck. He lets out another groan as Y/N’s walls clench around him.
“Fuck me George, please,” she demands, squeezing his shoulders.
George chuckles into her neck and pulls out of her halfway before he slams back in, starting to slowly fuck her. “Since you asked so nicely,” he teases, pressing an open mouth kiss to her jaw.
For a few minutes all the noise that can be heard is Y/N and George’s combined moans as well as skin slapping on skin. George grabs Y/N’s leg and throws it over his shoulder so he can fuck into her deeper and the head of his cock is now rubbing her sweet spot with every thrust.
“Oh fuck,” Y/N moans, scratching her nails down George’s back. “Feels so good, George. ‘M already close.”
“Fuck me too,” he growls, leaning down to whisper in her ear. “You feel so fucking good, darling.” He presses a few kisses into the skin below her ear. “Go on, darling. Come for me when you’re ready. Didn’t even need to touch your little clit, did I? Such a good girl, coming from just my cock.”
George’s words tip Y/N over the edge and she throws her head back, George’s name falling from her mouth. Her walls tighten and twitch around George, causing him to reach his climax as well. He empties himself inside of Y/N, his hips slowly rolling into her to help them both come down from their highs.
Once George’s cock has stopped twitching and Y/N’s breathing starts to slow down, George carefully pulls out of her and collapses on the bed next to her. George opens up his arm and Y/N rolls into his side, burying her face in the crook of his neck. She peppers soft kisses to the sweaty skin as George starts to rub her back.
“It’s not fair, you know,” George says as Y/N trails a few kisses up his neck and across his jaw.
Y/N pecks his lips softly. “What’s not fair?” she asks with a chuckle.
George pouts at her and she kisses him briefly again. “Every time we get intimate you get to come twice, and I only get to come once. That’s totally not fair.”
Y/N laughs and buries her face in George’s neck again. “Well maybe if you were a good boy I’d let you come more than once,” she teases.
George’s fingers dig into Y/N’s side as he holds her in place, tickling her mercilessly. Y/N shrieks with laughter, desperately trying to wiggle away from George’s grasp. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” she laughs, pressing a kiss to his shoulder. George tickles her for another moment before he stops, one of his hands resting on the small of Y/N’s back and the other grabs hers.
“I love you,” he whispers, pressing a kiss to the top of her head.
Y/N looks up at him and presses a kiss to the underside of his jaw. “I love you too.”
-
The next morning as Y/N drags George over to the Slytherin table for breakfast she can hear Ginny shouting at Ron.
“I told you, you absolute numpty! You owe me a Galleon!”
#George weasley#george weasley smut#George Weasley imagine#George Weasley fic#george weasley x reader#harry potter#harry potter fanfiction#george weasley x y/n#george weasley fanfic#George Weasley fanfiction#gw#golden
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(un)loving miya atsumu
fourteen.
loving miya atsumu
Dear Atsumu,
I hate how much your face is the first thing that comes to mind when I think about the word - ‘happiness’ and ‘love’. Happiness, because it radiates off your bones, no matter the situation, in court when up against strong opponents, thwarting plays with a setter dump or when you’re up serving, or when pulling off nasty quicks with your brother or any other player, off court when you fight with Osamu over the last ice cream at the convenience store, when you share a stupid joke with your dad, or even when you’re with the people you care about. Love, because you do everything with just the right to too much amount of love, pouring your everything in it, pouring your heart in the things that make you happy may it be volleyball, Osamu, your family, Mika- not a single wasted opportunity to convey your love and happiness. Nobody compares the way you do.
You’ve set a standard for almost everything, which is why you expect nothing for the best to be at the receiving end of both happiness and love.
I hope you know that to me; you are the embodiment of both happiness and love. Because I really hate how you remain the embodiment of these two words I have difficulty expressing.
Your name literally translates to 'to devour' and in a sense, you are someone who happily, readily accepts love and happiness on a daily basis, allowing it to fill you up to the core and share it with everyone.
You are everything that is everything – the sun after a stormy day, the sunshine in my veins, the kiss of the wind against my skin, the light to my darkness, my sunflower. You are everything to me, and to you, I offer, my whole heart, which you don’t have to worry returning, because it’s yours. Always has been.
- (Y/N)’s letter, 1 out of 13
"MIKA!" launching yourself at your big sister, engulfing in a hug, the two of you laughed. Breaking away, you held your older sister an arm's length, taking her in. "You're home! You're here!" The excitement was evident in your tone, a bit of confusion as well, at the joyful arrival of your big sister.
"Just thought I'd surprise you!"
Frowning slightly, you ask again. "But how about school?"
"I'm on break!"
"Alexander and Pien?"
"The family's currently on vacation in Spain," sensing another question coming, she furthers. "the parents were the ones who arranged this trip, because they know it would mean the world to me and I would never want to miss my little sister's big day."
The grin on your face softened, engulfing your sister into a hug again. "I'm just so happy you're here,"
"Me, too."
Despite everything that went down, before anything else in the world, this was your sister – your best friend by design. After months apart, talking to her virtually for a year, having her in person was such a delight. Seeing her home was probably the best graduation gift you could ask more.
Swaying into your hug, relishing in the feeling of her touch, Mika slowly opens her eyes, seeing the twins, finally remembering that they weren't alone.
"Oh, no! I'm so sorry!" dropping the hug, she turns to the twins. "Atsumu, Osamu, hello!"
"Welcome back, Mika-nee," says Osamu.
"H-Hey Mika-nee," Atsumu stutters.
Something unsettled in your belly, coming at a screeching halt at the reunion. You could feel Osamu's eyes on you. Balling your hands into fists, you swallowed that ugly feeling, wearing a smile on.
"Shall we head inside?" Nobody seemed to notice the slight crack in your voice, which you were thankful for. Lowering your head, your eyes easily found your graduation pin, a reminder.
Atsumu, however, seemed out of it. Even in the presence of his first love, he didn't seem the least happy to see her. In fact, he almost looked, dare you say, troubled.
While the three of you were taking off your shoes, the house filled with joyous noises from both families, you turned to the blond-dyed teen worriedly.
"Atsumu, are you alright?"
Is he alright? How was he supposed to feel? Mika was right there! Mika, the person he's been in love with since he was 9. Love, right? She's always been his standard, the perfect girl for some just as perfect as him. Boyfriend be damned. Mika was there. Mika was here. Shouldn't he be happy?
"Atsumu?" At the sound of your voice, he worked on a feeble smile, worrying you even more.
Snapping out of it, he quirks his lips up. Before you can say another word, his grandparents come barrelling down the hall to greet you three.
Atsumu's smile was worrying.
"How I've missed Japanese food!" Mika gushes at the table, eyes bright at the food on display – especially at the seafood, care of your uncle (of course).
Laughing, the twins' father turns to her. "What's wrong with Dutch food, Mika-chan?"
Aside from sushi, there was an assortment of dishes like tempura, sauteed vegetables, salad, grilled meat, roast beef and chicken, and two cakes. With a feast like this, calling for the occasion, it was enough to water anyone’s mouth.
"It's alright, but kinda bland." they laugh at that.
You sat next to your sister, Kaoru on your other side. Across you sat the twins, Atsumu directly in front of you. Catching his eye, he quirked his lips up – smile seeming forced.
Your mom was all smiles, lifting her glass up. “Well now, let’s make a toast to our graduates!”
"To our bright and wonderful children!” your uncle seconds, joyfully, loudly. “To Atsumu, Osamu, and (Y/N)! Cheers!"
"Cheers!" Everyone was clinking their glasses against each other before digging in.
The adults were usually doing the talking, exchanging pleasantries about this and that, while the youngins were on a world of their own. It only made sense why the (extended) table was divided into two – young and old.
Lifting his gaze, Atsumu could see you chatting up with his grandparents, a pleasing and polite smile on your face. As his grandma was sharing about her newest hobby, you were wiping Kaoru’s face clean, much to the younger boy’s displeasure.
“Atsumu, I hear you’ve been scouted by a pro-league?”
Suddenly called by Mika, he was suddenly on the spot. Normally, he would preen, just to keep those bright (e/c) eyes on him. When in truth, he wants another pair of eyes on him.
“Oh, uh…yeah, that’s right.”
“Pfft, what kinda energy is that?” booms his dad’s voice, ringing throughout the room. “Give it more life, Atsumu!” Beside him, his mom pats her husband’s arm, smiling per usual, but had a loving look in her eyes.
“What team are you joining?”
“MSBY Black Jackals,” he replies, staring at his plate. “they’re based in Osaka.”
Atsumu still remembers the day you approached him, shared with him how a scout agent had approached you first, then asked for Atsumu’s contact information. He was so over the moon after you told him that.
“Oh! So it’s close by!”
“Yeah.”
“That’s nice, you don’t have to worry about university and just continue doing what you do best. I’m jealous.”
Atsumu works on a faint smile, happy to hear it.
You watched the whole exchange from the corner of your eye, taking a bite of sushi before washing it down with soda, swallowing down the lump in your throat as well.
“Nee-san,” something pat at the corners of your mouth, Kaoru grinning. “your mouth was messy!”
Smiling, you could only pat his head in gratitude. “Thank you, Kaoru.”
“And how about (Y/N)-chan?” the Miya’s grandmother asked you suddenly, bringing the attention to you.
Now at the center of attention, you set down your plate. “Um…I’ll be studying at Hiroshima University.”
“Hiroshima! That’s four hours away from here?” whines the twins’ mom, to which your uncle and mom shrugs easily.
“Well, it was her decision.”
“Waseda was also in her list, but she opted for Hiroshima University.”
Nearly choking on his drink, the twins’ father turns to you. “Wa-Waseda!?”
“Dad, calm down!” Atsumu berates, embarrassed. Beside him, Osamu just helps himself to another serving, handing his grandfather another, too.
“Don’t underestimate Waseda, Atsumu! That’s one of the most prestigious schools in Japan!”
Atsumu knows that very well, because you told them about it. Just that…
“Well, she didn’t pass.” Huffs your uncle, but goes on to explain rather excitedly. “So she went for the next big thing – Hiroshima University!”
“Dad, didn’t we already tell you this?” Osamu frowns, rice sticking to his cheek. “We also told you she passed the exams.”
Their dad deflated at that, scratching at his cheek. “A-Ah, eh…you know your old man, he’s getting old and his memory’s failing him.” Everyone in the table laughs, even young Kaoru!
“Still, Hiroshima’s a long way from here, (Y/N)-chan,” their grandfather turns to you. “Why not join Osamu at Kobe University? Or Atsumu in Osaka at Kansai University?”
Shrugging, you reached over to refill his glass. “I wanted a change of pace, I guess. Also,” sitting back, you brushed strands of hair behind your ear, exposing your conch piercing. “I had a bit of epiphany when we had our class excursion there.”
The adults smile at your words, Mika, most especially.
“Well, I know you’ll do well there which is why we want you to have this,” from his pocket, the twins’ grandfather produced three envelopes – for you, Osamu, and Atsumu. To say that the three of you were shocked would be an understatement. “Here,”
Ever so carefully, the three of you took the envelope with both hands.
“Go on, open it!” says their mom excitedly, recording with their phone.
“OH MY GOD MOM, YOU’RE EMBARRASSING US!”
“Open, open!” their grandmother clapped her hands excitedly, sharing the same sweet smile as her husband.
Glancing at each other, the three of you seemed to share the same idea.
“On three?”
Nod.
“One,”
“Two,”
“Three!”
Outside the window, the wind blew, sending a draft it in (L/N) household. One glance and you were greeted by a world painted in pink hues, blushes of nature come in falling petals – spring has come alright.
In your subdivision, there was only one cherry blossom tree that was planted in the playground just behind your house. At the epicentre of your neighbourhood, like a heartbeat that connected each household to its beating. When spring comes, it blooms, shedding off its petals, scattering against the wind everywhere – for everyone to see.
A chance to bring spring into their homes, to enjoy moments like these without having to worry about leaving. Like a hanami at home.
“Ohhh.”
“…we got money.”
“Granny, Gramps, thank you so much!”
“Use the money wisely now!”
“I’m jealous,” Mika tells you, watching the twins. “you three got to share moments like these, have been for years. But now,” her smile falters a bit. “you’re off on your separate ways. Will you be okay?”
Your big sister will always be your best friend, one deigned to you since you were born and because of blood. But having friends of your own was another story, especially worth noting just how quiet you can be, which is why when they moved to Hyogo and were introduced to the twins, it made her feel settled. The three of you were inseparable, always together, a bond she envied.
At this point in your life, there was no denying the consequences of growing up.
“We all have our own different dreams and ambitions, so it’s only normal that we chase after it.” Taking a sip of your drink, your eyes catch on Osamu. “Osamu’s not as ambitious as his brother, but he’s just as competitive – especially when it comes to his future and happiness.”
“True, but a shame that he’s not going pro like his brother, they would be such a team!”
It would, years of watching them grow together was enough of a testament. The most powerful twins in volleyball.
“They’ll always have volleyball and each other. But when it comes to happiness, that’s another story.” Recalling Osamu’s soft gaze on the finished onigiri he made, the tale he shared afterwards. “Osamu’s happiness in with cooking and food.”
Humming, Mika takes her own drink, sipping in.
“And the thing with Atsumu is that’s he’s always looking forward, never once settling on the past knowing that it will hold him back. In fact, he’s always looking ahead that he tends to forget what he’s doing in present time.”
“It sounds like he’s taken to heart your club motto, huh? ‘We don’t need memories’.”
It was such a powerful motto – moving and inspiring all at once. From the moment your eyes saw Inarizaki’s banner when you were young to the moment you became manager, that motto has stuck with you the most. You love that motto, love its implication and even took it by heart.
“We can’t always be ruled by our past after all.” You set your drink down. “How else are we going to move forward?”
Atsumu stared at the ceiling before him, having given up tossing and turning for the past few hours. After the third hour, he threw in the towel – he was restless, unable to fall asleep from everything that’s happened today. It’s as though he found himself at an impasse – unsure of what he’s been holding on to, unable to comprehend how he should feel with everything going on.
Mika was home. Feelings he’s had for her…surfaced. He thinks. Atsumu broke into a sigh, sitting up, he was a mess.
Suddenly, he heard rummaging from below him, muted light glowing from below.
“’Samu?” he called out.
“Ah, shit.” Osamu craned his head, meeting his eyes. “Sorry, ‘Tsumu. Did I wake you?”
Shaking his head, Atsumu noted that Osamu was dressed up. “Where’re you headed?”
“Out.” He pockets his phone and wallet away.
“By yourself?” When his brother shakes his head, Atsumu shifts from his spot, asking again. “With whom?”
“…with (Y/N).”
Atsumu was silent for a while, coming to realization how Osamu sneaks out a lot in the past. It shouldn’t be a question and should be easy to tell who he usually hung out with late at night.
“Can I come?”
Osamu’s blinked at that. Atsumu waits, hopes. He watches as his brother looks at his phone, then back to his brother. Eventually, he exhales through his nose, wearing a half-smile as he nods slowly.
“Yeah, come on.”
Smiling, Atsumu feels excited as he gets down from his bunk and quickly changes. Following his brother's lead, ever so quietly the twins trudge out of the house, careful not to make any loud noises (which honestly, they shouldn't even bother for everyone in their family were heavy sleepers), door closing shut behind him. It amazed Atsumu how his brother does it all with practiced eased.
Spring evening was chilly, biting at his skin, nipping his nose. Good thing he thought of putting on his hoodie.
Together, the twins head out their house, bypassing their gate and turn, towards the (L/N) house next door where a figure waited.
Dressed in an oversized hoodie that stopped by your mid thighs, gazing up at the night sky in thought, in waiting.
"Yo, (Y/N)."
Lowering your head, (e/c) eyes widened slightly once realizing your best friend didn't come alone. At this, Atsumu raised a hand in greeting.
"Hey, (Y/N). Mind if I tag along?"
You shrug easily, standing to your full height. "Sure, why not."
Spring night was cool and crisp, biting almost – remnants from winter’s past.
Three teens walk along their quiet neighbourhood, cruising along houses for some few blocks until reaching a brightly lit establishment just next to the main road.
Upon entering the store, the cashier – a smiling, tired-looking woman, nods at Osamu and you, eyes shining in familiarity. A recurrence, it seems. Despite the wee hours of the night, the stillness of the silence, bright lights flooded the establishment with a multitude of goods lined up, budget meals prepped and ready, everything seemed liked a sight for any customer.
Following after Osamu, the two cruised through the aisles, his brother grabbing some chips and a seasonal onigiri, the twins nearly towering over. Reaching the end, he felt a chill, realizing he was by the frozen section, with you eyeing the selection with pursed lips.
"Aren't you full from all the food we ate earlier?" Atsumu laughs, standing next to you.
"Lest you forget, Osamu has a black hole for a stomach. I'm on my period, so I have cravings." Saying this, you stare at the selection of ice cream.
"How about curfew?" You were such a stickler for rules, this was so new to him.
Shrugging, you picked up strawberry and chocolate brownie. "Osamu and I sometimes pass off as adults. Plus, this neighborhood tends to be complacent when it comes to curfew."
He smirks. "So you're using that to your advantage, huh? Smart girl."
Your only reply was bumping your shoulder against his, putting the strawberry ice cream in his hands. Which he decidedly takes.
Over your meals, the three of you share laugh, meals, and talks. Unable to help himself, and taking a page from his mother, Atsumu takes a selfie to commemorate the moment, uploading instantly to his social media.
To any other bystander – or whoever sees Atsumu’s selfie, it was nothing more than a teenage hang out with your childhood friend and brother. Rather picturesque of perfect innocence, measured smiles, occasional banter highlighted only by the lights of the sleepy convenience store, saturated by the spring evening.
A moment that sent a lurch down each of your hearts at the knowledge that moments like these were numbered. Caught up in the moment, Atsumu desperately wished for time to freeze, wishing his life was always like this.
Nostalgia filled the night, between childhood friends – like that year of silence meant nothing. It was enough to choke Atsumu, bring him to tears with how much he's missed this. Memories from his past painted into his present with bright hues and ink, he wanted them to stay, etched on his skin - unready to have them washed away when the morning comings.
Late-night snacks ended up with the twins sneaking their game console to the (L/N)'s household, talks continue even as you three were playing video games until the wee hours of the morrow, filled with more talks that piled conversation over conversation, talking as though they had a clue – leaving you all breaking into fits of silly laughter.
Just as you landed second in Mario Kart, Osamu conked out first.
"I swear, he sleeps like a fucking log," Atsumu says, watching you carefully set Osamu's head on your lap, patting his head gently.
Smiling softly, you carefully take the blanket you snuck and tucked him in, and yourself, too. Atsumu stood to turn off the console and the TV, filling the room in darkness. However, the glow from the moon outside was enough to illuminate the living room.
"You'll be heading off to Hiroshima, right?" he whispers, reaffirming the question thrown to you earlier that day, you nod. "Wow,” sitting next to you, on the edge of the sofa, he settles in. “big step."
"I figured that I'd like to open my horizon, have a new pace."
Atsumu remembered the peaceful look on your face when they had their class excursion there, smiling at the memory and a bit on the history of the city.
"Like a fresh new beginning, huh?"
Nodding, eyes beginning to droop, Atsumu carefully brings your head to his chest, falling back. "Like you...you'll be off to Osaka...for MSBY Black Jack'ls" you slur. "Osamu's staying here..."
Humming, he brushes away hair from your face, listening to your voice against Osamu's snores.
"You seem t'be doin' fine," he almost laughs at how thick your Kansai was when you were on the brink of sleep. "'ve always been." Taking an inhale, through your exhale you say, "you don't need me, Atsumu, you never have." and then you slipped off to sleep.
How he envied the friendship you had with Osamu, the one thing that connected you both in the first place. Taking your left hand in his, fingers slotting together, scarred fingers touching against each other, he noses at your forehead, lips a hairsbreadth away from your skin.
“Oh, you have no idea just how wrong you are, (Y/N).” lips pressed the lightest kiss, the moon and the stars as his witness. “I’ll always need you.”
You must've heard him in your sleep, because you were smiling, adorably. It was the last sight he saw before Atsumu slipped off, as well.
Dawn broke out slowly, as it always did in Hyogo, light streaming, searching almost for signs of life in the living room. With the sun slowly making its way up, light follows upwards, eventually finding three bodies knocked out in the living room - sleeping rather awkwardly with two boys sandwiching a girl, peaceful, lost in silence. Somewhat, it was a familiar sight.
Waking up to the smell of breakfast, Atsumu woke with a start, blinking wearily as he took in his surroundings. Right, he snuck out with Osamu and stayed over at the (L/N)’s.
Lifting his head, a ghost of a smile found its way on his face when a mop of (h/c) came to view, your hand still in his. Strands of hair littered your face, which he quickly swept away, causing you to stir.
"Good morning, sleepyheads!" a cheery voice greeted from the kitchen. "Hope you like pancakes!"
Fresh out of bed, with her hair in a messy bun with an apron on was Mika, she looked pretty, adorable even. Atsumu should've been happy by the sight of this, captivated even. But he felt nothing.
At the mention of pancakes, Osamu sleepily lifts his head, in alert, eyes still pinched close. Slowly, you rose from Atsumu’s chest, having used it as a pillow last night, rubbing at your eyes.
“Mornin’ (Y/N),” he laughs.
Blinking your eyes open, with the sight of Atsumu in front of you, between his legs, realizing your sleeping position from last night, instantly your face heated, darkened. “A-Atsumu! A-Ah…Um…G-Good morning…” folding his legs back, he did a stretch, Osamu slowly coming to beside you. “Did you sleep well? Does your neck hurt? Your back?”
Your concern was honestly adorable – like your morning self, it made his heart warm.
“No worries, I slept great!”
True to his word, the rest of the morning went swimmingly over heaps of pancake and another selfie.
“I fear you’ll be taking after your mother in that aspect.”
“Wow, selfie whore.”
“SHUT IT, ‘SAMU!”
After breakfast, the twins had to head back home, to greet their grandparents while you started packing. When lunch came, the twins were back – freshly changed and all. At the sight of them, your mom couldn’t help gushing that ‘it takes me back!’ to which your uncle laughed at heartily, welcoming the boys in before they both left for work.
“Oi, Kaoru what’re you doing?” Osamu asked, watching how as your brother stood on a dining chair he grabbed, pushed it against the wall as he reached up, tying something by the window.
Squinting, you asked. “Is…that a teru teru bozu?”
“Yep!” he smiled, letting the doll face outside, getting another balled-up doll from his pocket. “Nee-san’s birthday’s in a few days, don’t want it to rain then!”
“Kaoru, aren’t you a little too old for superstitions?”
“I’m only 13!”
“Yes, but there’s no scientific proof that they prevent rain from coming. Plus, it’s spring, it’s not so hot of a season for rain to fall.”
Miffed by your explanation, he turned, nearly toppling over had he not righted himself quickly. “You don’t know that, nee-san!” Kaoru hopped off the chair, pouting at you.
“Yeah, what the brother boy said!” Atsumu seconded.
“Better safe than sorry!”
You could only sip on your drink in reply, hiding the smile. Osamu gave you a funny look, amused.
“Plus, it has to be sunny on nee-san’s birthday! We’re going to-“ before Kaoru could finish, Mika appeared, slapping a hand on his mouth.
“Hey, how about I make us pasta for lunch?”
Instantly, Kaoru’s face brightened. “Yay, pasta!”
“By the way, (Y/N),” she calls to you. “Reiki’s coming over with the pizza you like that his friend makes, the spinach one and garlic shrimp?”
At the mention of the aforementioned pizzas, your lips quickly quirk up. It was so hard to find those specific flavors around Kobe, the last time you had them was probably before Mika left. Thankfully, Reiki, being the social butterfly that he was, knew a lot of people.
“Your boyfriend has my many thanks,”
Mika laughs, making you realize a little too late on the words that left your mouth. Sliding your eyes to Atsumu, you were surprised to find that he seemed relatively fine, cordial even.
When Reiki came with the pizzas later, pasta ready and waiting, you all feasted, but not before Atsumu insisted on a selfie with everyone.
“I swear, you’re turning to Ma and it’s scaring me,” Osamu tells his brother with a disgusted frown.
“Watch your mouth, ‘Samu that’s still our Ma!” Atsumu angrily bites off his pizza. “Is it so wrong to capture moments frozen in time!?”
“Wow, that was a rather poetic way of saying it,” you noted, nodding your thanks at Reiki would gave you two slices each of the pizzas.
“Come on now, let’s not fight!” Reiki says calmly, undeterred by the twins. “Let’s just eat, yeah?”
A long-distance relationship seemed to work fine for your sister and Reiki. Clearly, distance makes the heart fonder with how lovey-dovey they seemed. A peek over at Atsumu, and you’d half-expect him to go batshit crazy. But no. If anything, he seemed perfectly fine.
“Atsumu, do you have a minute?”
As Atsumu walked off with your sister, you could only watch, lips quirking into a smile. For some reason, you felt fine with that, too.
It was probably when they first moved to Hyogo that Atsumu’s eyes fell to Mika, the ever-smiling, ever-kind oldest daughter. There were plenty of reasons to like her: she was pleasant, polite, pretty, smart, athletic, and kind. For years, Atsumu has always set her as his standard for his ideal woman, even assured himself that he was at her level (which shouldn’t be so hard, thanks to his genetics).
For the first time in the forever, he thought of finally confessing to her his feelings, that chance that he’s waiting for so long.
And yet, as the two enter the backyard, the door sliding shut behind him, Atsumu turns to Mika, with a question that’s been burning on to the back of his head for a while now.
"Why did you do it?"
"Huh?" Mika looks up in surprise, letting go of the door handle.
"Why'd you to talk to him?" Atsumu felt his patience running thin, anger building.
Mika's perfect face falls into confusion, exposing the cracks underneath. This was clearly not what she intended to talk about, but Atsumu didn’t care, he was leading this conversation now. Honestly, it feels like he’s finally seeing her for who she really is – for the first time, the rosy lenses he had of her were torn away.
Him, being their dad.
Pressing her lips together, a fist to her mouth, contemplating on her response. "...I just...I wanted..."
"A connection?" he finishes for her, an educated guess.
Mika nodded. "He's still my dad, you know? I just thought...I could get to know him..."
"And that hurt (Y/N) in the process," Atsumu threw out, rather impatiently, almost accusingly. "did you know that?"
Pain crosses over her face, bleeding through from her eyes down to the upturn of her lips, hands fisting on her chest.
"Maybe you wanted a relationship with him,” shaking his head, he thinks of you “but not (Y/N)." Of all his memories with you, one where he's caught your eyes on their dad, feeling his stomach twist at the longing in your eyes, hurt him the most. You may have had your uncle, but having your own father was a different thing. You told him that Mika was studying psychology, he couldn’t help but think how ironic that was.
"I'm not perfect, Atsumu."
Atsumu scoffed. "Don't I know that?"
He was an older sibling himself. Older by five minutes, he was still regarded as the oldest, has as much responsibility despite that minute difference.
"Older siblings aren't perfect," Mika says. "We make mistakes, we hurt people, even our siblings." She very clearly wanted to discuss something else, something that clearly wasn’t this. But now that Atsumu’s taken control, she felt herself lose rights.
"Did you tell him about our graduation?"
Mika fell silent, mouth pulled into a line.
That was enough of an answer.
Atsumu tried to imagine how the young you must have felt, the horrors you had to face, to witness, how your young, impressionable mind just paused and came to a screeching halt, to a horrible realization of how fucked up everything was now - he could only feel immeasurable pain, choking him. When that happened, did it also take away the life and spark in your eyes? The joy of life?
He loved his dad very much, his dad was one of the best men in his life who always encouraged him and Osamu to pursue their dreams, always at the frontline for them, and loved his whole family. Had he done what your dad did, he would also feel just as crushed. What he did was inexcusable – to you, to Mika, to your brother, to your mom. Scums like him didn't deserve a second chance.
"I can't believe you did that."
Without waiting for her to reply, Atsumu walked back inside the house, back to where his brother and you were.
Late at night, you stare up at the ceiling, hugging ‘Inari’ – the fox plushie given to you by the trouble children – close to your chest. Mind filled with thoughts, just swimming over you.
Earlier, Atsumu had walked back in the house, the same worrying smile from a few days ago, eyes losing its usual luster. Yet, he assured you that it was nothing, ruffling your hair affectionately.
Mika then walked back in the house, all smiles – but even she had a weary looking smile. Before you could approach her, Reiki rushed to her side and the two scurried to the kitchen. Thankfully, Kaoru, hadn’t picked up on this, busy trying to beat his two nii-sans in Smash.
Shifting your head to the side, to where Mika’s bed was, your sister was dead to the world, deep in her slumber – peaceful and calm. Lifting yourself from your bed, covers dropping, ever so carefully you dropped your feet to the cold floor. Still hugging Inari, you walked away from your bed and to one of the boxes, staring at the contents – some books, stationary.
Bending down, you dig through, careful not to make a sound. From the box, you pulled out a wooden picture frame, hand painted blue, with sunflowers sticking on the top left, a few petals on the upper and lower. And in frame was the photo of the Inarizaki Volleyball Club. It was taken the moment everyone returned from Tokyo. Smiling fondly, fingers smoothed over the sunflowers, taking in everyone’s smiles.
At the center of the photo was you, sandwiched between Atsumu and Osamu, wearing wide grins. When your juniors handed you the frame, you were so sure you’d break out then and there. But it didn’t end there, because Coach Kurosu – tears spilling down his face, gave you his gift, too. Gently setting Inari down, frame sitting next to him, you plucked a small, thick, black cloth.
Sitting crossed legged, you opened it up, smiling at the familiar kanji of the club’s motto.
‘We Don’t Need Memories’
“Such a powerful statement,” you whisper into the silence.
Kita once shared that he wasn’t a fan of the motto – being a man brought by the small things, on how doing the minimum on a daily basis is already enough of an assurance for any needless worries. Yet, it fires him up when he’s up with his team mates.
Coach Kurosu also mentioned, overly fond of the motto, that nothing should ever hold you back from the challenges that life will hurl at you.
Smoothing over the smooth kanji characters, a wave of memories rushed over you – first stepping into the gym, applying as manager the same time the twins had their try-outs, introducing yourself as manager before the twins engulfed you into a hug, seeing Aran again, meeting Kita and the rest of your seniors, meeting Suna, Ginjima, and the rest of the team, being there when the twins got their jerseys, their first official match, making your way to nationals, the twins debuting their dyed hairs, the incident, Kita’s captaincy, him berating you for resigning and convincing you to stay, the painful and cold second year, walking out during preliminaries, breaking down in the club room, having to tell Atsumu he was chosen for the Youth Camp, meeting Sho-chan at nationals, resigning only to be brought back, arcades with the trouble children, sunflowers given by the juniors on your birthday, training in Asano and Yoshimichi, training the new recruits, warmer days in the club, nationals with with Sho-chan, smacking Atsumu in the face, the retirement and turning over, graduation – so many great memories, good and bad. They were definitely the time of your life, if not, the greatest. A chapter that’s come to a close, but filled with so many turning points.
Patting the banner affectionately, a single tear slips down your face, landing on the banner, what a deep tangent you’ve found yourself in.
March 23, your birthday.
It fell on a Sunday, on a perfect sun shiny day, just as your family had expected.
On your birthday, it was decided that it would be spent at Sunflower Hill Park at Ono. Seeing as it was a special day, everyone had to dress their best – you included, being the birthday girl. Mika immediately busied herself prettying you up, even getting you to finally wear the dress that Kita had gifted you sometime back. It’s been gathering dust in the closet since he gave it, unsure on when to wear it.
“It’s just my birthday,” you grumbled, Mika immediately shushing you busily brushing your hair aside to work on your eyes, her face pinched into concentration.
“It’s not ‘just your birthday’, (Y/N).” she says, lighting brushing over your eyes. Setting down her eyeshadow palette, she picks up a blush set, instructing you to smile, exposing your dimples.
“19,” you say aloud, announcing to the world freely. “I’m at the peak of my adulthood.”
“You know, you’ve always been an adult all your life.” Mika teases, brush circling your dimples. “But that doesn’t mean you should be down on your birthday.”
“Studies show that it’s only natural to have birthday disappointments the older you get.” You rebuke, watching her frown cutely, setting her blush down, brandishing a mascara in her hand.
“And studies also show that you don’t always have to have that kind of mindset,” she rebukes back, twirling her mascara madly before taking out the wand. “Open your eyes and look up.”
Gulping, you do as she says, feeling the wand passing down your lashes.
“Birthday disappointments can also be stemmed from high expectations – either from childhood or from adolescence. And here’s the hard truth: you actually want to celebrate your birthday, but you just don’t know how to tell people.”
Capping her mascara, she instructs you to close your eyes, which you do, before you’re assaulted with a mist-like spray all over your face. When she tells you to open, you find yourself staring at yourself in the mirror – struck at the person staring back at you. Mika did a great job, highlighting your features, brightening your whole face, it was easy to see now the resemblance between you two.
“We’re not mind readers, (Y/N), we’re your family. And because we love you, we want to celebrate the day you came to bless our lives,” Mika smiles, smoothing your hair.
Helping you put on your dress, even lending you her sandals, she added some finishing touches like earrings and a sun brim hat.
“I look like those stereotypical animes shown in the summer.” You comment about your reflection in the mirror, to which Mika rolls her eyes at.
“Would you stop, you look beautiful!”
Taking her words with a grain of salt – seeing how pretty she was in her own dress, you smiled and the two of you walk out the room.
“Are you two done, now- Ah, how pretty!” coos your mother, pressing her hands to her mouth, eyes watering.
“Mom, you’re being dramatic-“
“My girls are so pretty! Especially the birthday girl!”
Beside you, Mika looks pleased with herself, especially at her work.
“Happy birthday, sweetie,” says your mom, taking your face in her hands, pressing a kiss on your forehead.
Swallowing down hard, fighting off tears that have strangely formed, you smile at her. “Thanks mom.”
“Alright, let’s go down now! Everyone’s waiting for us!”
Anxiety rose up, heart in your chest as you three descended the stairs, where you could hear people chatting about in the living room. Everyone was there – your uncle, Kaoru, Reiki, the Miyas, even the twins. It was Atsumu who saw you first, doing a double take, taking you in.
And then his mom squealed at the sight of you. “Ah!!!!! (Y/N)-chan, you look so pretty!” everyone turns to you, much to your horror. “Happy birthday, sweet girl!” she says.
“…thank you, Auntie.” Your voice was quiet, raspy.
Being the center of attention, everyone’s smiles on you was unnerving.
Self-consciously, you duck under their gazes, face burning.
To your surprise, your family had long planned this together with the Miyas. What made it extra special was the fact that it was just days after the three of you graduated and of Mika’s return. An outing of two families, in a field of little suns spread across the field.
At the sight of tall, bright yellow and brown flowers, your eyes sparkled in child-like wonder. Sensing your excitement, Mika, with her uncle’s camera slung around her neck, hooked her arm around yours, giggling and pulling you further in the park, leaving Atsumu and the rest to follow after.
The adults were discussing amongst themselves, discussing where they should set up, Reiki happily stuck around them, ever ready to help around, while Kaoru was running off to join his sisters. Alone with his brother, Osamu elbows him.
"Is something wrong with you and Mika-nee?" Osamu asks him, feeling the breeze against his skin.
On the way to Ono, with the twins, you, Mika, and Reiki, in Reiki’s car, there was a noticeable avoidance between Atsumu and Mika. However, the two easily played it off. Mika was busy chatting up with her boyfriend, Atsumu looked over your shoulder, as you answered birthday greetings.
Even way before that, the two of them were masterful in their way of seeming fine, but when they interacted, it felt rather stiff.
Sighing, Atsumu’s eyes found Kaoru, who was giggling as Mika was getting you to pose in front of flowers, you, clearly embarrassed, tried to talk your way out of it.
"I confronted her about their dad," Atsumu grumbles, hands in his pocket. Eventually, you caved in your sister’s whims, posing demurely, before Kaoru cheered you to try other poses.
Osamu's eyes widened. "Are you an idiot!? Why would you-"
"Did you know that she also told him about our graduation?"
Osamu stopped at that, at its implication, their eyes going to the older (L/N) sister, showing the photos to you.
"Damn."
"I know. Pretty shitty of her."
"Wow, 'Tsumu badmouthing Mika-nee, that's new."
Scoffing, he lifted his head to meet his brother’s. "What the fuck does that mean?"
Shrugging easily, Osamu explains, as their parents walk southward into the park, where an open area for picnic was. "Almost a year ago, you were nothing but praises for her, wouldn’t shut up about her on and on and on.” Breathing out a laugh, he shakes his head when he adds. “Heck, even if she farted you'd think it was cute."
Atsumu's face wrinkles, cringes. "That was before."
“Still,” walking ahead, he stares his brother down, feeling a chill run down his spine. “you never let us forget. Never let (Y/N) forget that.”
Up ahead, the (L/N) siblings were soon joined by Reiki, who took the camera from Mika, opting to take photos of the siblings. (Y/N), who was sandwiched between her older and younger sibling, all smiles for the camera.
“A year ago, it was as though your mission was to make (Y/N) feel so shitty about yourself, all because of your stupid little crush. It took her finally deciding to leave for you to snap out of it.”
Swallowing thickly, Atsumu vaguely remembered that moment of panic, like something had clawed into his chest. Immediately, he feels a sense of shame – for everything he had done to you.
"'Tsumu, you realize that you never said you're sorry to (Y/N), right?"
The hardest pill to swallow was realizing that despite the year he’s had, devoted to making up to you, it just wasn’t enough. Actions may speak louder than words, but just saying those words were just as important. Especially because it was worth noting that, sometimes, Atsumu’s actions can be contradicting to his words and may confuse you. You, who’s suffered quietly all this time, who forced themselves to power through, who unselfishly put others before yourself.
“I’m way past that now,” determination was thick in his tone, strong in his words.
Osamu felt proud to see it, loved to see it. They were nearing their parents – who finally found a nice picnic spot, just right next to the playground hustle.
"Didn't you say that Mika-nee was your one true love?" he couldn’t help but say, egging on his brother, never letting him down on his fuck up.
Osamu nearly fell back as Atsumu tackled him, slapping a hand to his mouth, lest anyone heard it. "KEEP YOUR MOUTH SHUT, SHITTY 'SAMU!"
"Wasn't she though!?"
"I was a kid!" he reasoned out. "I didn't know shit!"
"Clearly still don't now!" Osamu yelled slapping his brother's hand away from his face.
"FUCK YOU!"
"Now, now, Atsumu, Osamu, no fighting on (Y/N)'s special day!" calls their dad, hands on his hips. Beside him was their mom, smiling as she took photos of the sunflowers all around them.
"Oh, oh, oh, sweetie, let's take a photo with the birthday girl!" hooking her arm around her husband's she didn't give him time to back out before dragging him with her, smiling sweetly at her sons. "And no fighting, Atsumu, Osamu, it's a special day!"
Speaking of special day, Atsumu’s eyes turned to the fields, where you were – feeling his heart settle at your familiar frame, your gentle expression as you gazed at the vibrant yellow sunflowers. He remembered that field trip when they were younger, remembered where your eyes were staring, dug through the display when no one was looking and snuck it in his bag, feeling giddy all over, remembered the smile that came to your face.
It was brighter than any of the sunflowers.
Under the clear blue skies, the sun was shining bright, smiling down on everyone – especially a particular group down at Ono Sunflower Hill Park, circling a girl dressed in white, balloons in hands, all wearing smiles as they sang to greet her.
Their singing echoed out in the field, the wind carrying on their love for the girl in the middle, the girl whose heart was just filled with love with everyone around her.
A simple white cake, decorated in the same flowers that surrounded them was presented to her, and a single candle stood alit, waiting.
When the singing dwindled down, the girl stared at her cake, closed her eyes, and then blew.
She was now 19.
What a lovely day to be loved, feel loved, and be celebrated by love.
Emboldened by his talk with Osamu, brought also by epiphany, Atsumu finds himself carefully approaching Mika.
“Mika-nee, can we talk?”
Reiki, having sensed the mood, excused himself, but not before kissing his girlfriend on the forehead and taking Kaoru with him away from the playground.
Squirming under his gaze, remembering his blow-up on her days before, she fixes him a pleading look. "Atsumu, look, I don't want to fight with you-"
"I'm not sorry for blowing up on you like that, Mika-nee.” He starts, meaning every word. “But I am sorry for intruding into your family business. I just care for (Y/N), she's..." he swallows thickly. "she's been through so much."
Mika’s expression softens, eyes shining. "You really care a great deal about (Y/N), huh?"
“Always have, always will.”
“I’m glad.”
Mika smiles sweetly at him, fiddling with her hands. “It’s just…he’s still my dad, what he did was unforgivable, but the idea of reconnecting with him,” she sniffles, wiping a tear. “how could I not? And then I thought, that maybe (Y/N) would be on board with the idea…” she shakes her head, laughing incredulously. “Clearly, I forgot that I can’t force it on her, can’t fix the trauma he did.” Her face pinches, pained and regret.
The old Atsumu would have rushed and comforted her, assured her that she did great. Emphasis on the old, the Atsumu now just stared, letting her wallow on her mistake.
Covering her face, she groaned into it, before fixing herself up, slapping her cheeks together. “Wooh! How embarrassing of me! Looks like I’ve got a long way to go!�� she laughs. Atsumu can’t help but laugh with her.
Even now, her ability to smile through the pain, shoulder her burdens, amazes him. There was a reason he admired this young woman before him, but seeing her open up to her flaws made him admire her even more.
And then he felt it, the urge, something clawing at his chest, words that needed to be said.
“Mika-nee, actually,” the older girl looks up at him, waits patiently. “I…I like you.” Back when he was younger, he had envisioned the perfect confession – something almost like this, with the sun setting behind them, painting them in the afterglow. That was one of his two options for confessing, the other being in the letter he poured his heart in, with your help. “I liked you, Mika-nee.”
It feels freeing to finally say that, to let the person know how much they meant to them. Even if it were no longer the case.
She smiles, sweetly again. “I know.”
Atsumu looks up at her, surprised. Mika’s smile remains.
“E-Eh?”
“I received your letter,” his eyes widen, confusion crawling over. “(Y/N) snuck it into my things before I left for the Netherlands.”
You did that for him? You.
Looking back, his eyes could only widen, realizing that it had been during the incident. Atsumu is assaulted with guilt all over again, brought by your unselfishness, just unsure with what he could say.
“I always thought that it would be the two of you, you know? You three were thick as thieves, enough to rival the three musketeers. But you and (Y/N)? I always felt like there was a great bond between you two.”
“N-Nee-san…actually…I-“ Everything he did to you in the year following the incident came to mind, his self-hate rising, Mika deserved to know.
Instead, she gently shakes her head. “It’s not me you should be telling that to, Atsumu. It’s (Y/N).” taking his arm in her hand, she cups his chin, (e/c) eyes meeting his honey browns, smiling and squeezing on to him arm encouragingly. “Go.”
Coming to, he nods and quickly starts running. Before fully leaving the playground, Mika calls him. “Oh, and Atsumu? Thank you so much for your feelings!”
“Osamu,”
“Hm?”
“Remember when you told me about your first love?”
“…yeah.” He sighs, heavily. “The umeboshi to my onigiri.”
“That’s a funny analogy,” with your arm over his, you leaned against his shoulder as the two of you walked along the pat. “but very fitting for someone you love.”
“Yeah, yeah, laugh it off. What’s yours?”
“Isn’t it obvious?” you look to the field.
“Ah, yes.” Osamu nods, following your gaze. “Sunflowers.”
Leaning against his arm, you murmur. “…he’s my sunflower, Osamu.”
Osamu doesn’t say anything for a while, watching how Kaoru and Reiki raced beside them. Two people missing from their group. “I know he is.”
“And you’re my chicken noodle soup.”
He snorts, looking down at you. “Why?”
“It’s my comfort food, remember? Also, you’re my best friend. You should feel honored.”
“Strange analogy you got there.” He waves at his grandparents, enjoying themselves watch the children play in the fountains.
“Not as strange as your umeboshi and onigiri,” you remind him, teasingly.
Rolling his eyes at that, he can’t deny the gentleness of your voice, its weight and wistfulness.
“Thanks for being my best friend, Osamu.”
Patting his hand over yours, he replies. “Always.”
Breaking away, you smile gratefully at him. He lets you walk off from him, taking a new path.
“Stop sounding like you’re about to die, (Y/N). S’not funny.”
Laughing, you could only tuck your hands behind you. “I’m just feeling nostalgic!”
“Where’re you going?”
“For a walk!”
“Geez, aren’t you tired of walking?”
“Nope,” and you walk further in the new path, Osamu watches you go, but doesn’t follow.
With all his heart, he wishes, for your birthday, all the best for you. Keeping his eyes on white, it slowly shrinks as you walk further and further, away and away, until you were out of sight.
Huffing and puffing, he looked around wildly, searching for (h/c) in a white dress. Atsumu almost cursed at how big of an area the park was, felt pathetic that he was winded out after some runs – he was a fucking athlete, god damn it! About to join a pro-fucking-league-
"Are you looking for someone?" a voice asked him, turning, Atsumu nearly sagged in relief when he found who he was looking for.
You.
"You," he says breathlessly, lips stretched into a wide smile.
Your face scrunched into a light frown, wondering, before producing a handkerchief in your hands, patting his sweaty face. “Have you been running around the park?”
“Nah, just now.” Your frown softens a bit. “Like I said, I was looking for you.”
Tilting your head to the side, confused, you asked. “Why?”
Atsumu opened his mouth, only to stop, realization getting the best of him. Shiiiiiiit.
Suddenly shy, he laughed it off, nervously, uncaring that people were looking at him funny. Concerned washed over your features, which warmed him from the inside, especially with you looking at him all pretty like that. But heck, even without the makeup, you were something else.
“Come on,” you opened a hand to him, an invitation.
Atsumu stared at it, at the scar on your middle finger. Placing his in yours, his larger hand over yours, the two of you began to walk hand-in-hand. You took him by the fields, deep in, as though to hide you amongst the flowers, to be one with them, to a secret place for you both.
For all his life, he couldn’t imagine having to miss out on the feeling, like everything he’s known his whole life is nothing compared to the bright, vibrant yellows and browns around him, in the girl dressed in white, leading him through. And he let you.
How is it that he’s never noticed? Why had he never thought of seeing you? It feels as though he’s led a life blind.
With a tug, the two of you exit the field and into a clearing, all Atsumu can focus on was your smile.
“I’ve always wanted to do that,” you laugh, walking a few steps to the path. “walking across a sunflower field, I mean.”
Atsumu can’t keep his eyes off your smile, even as the both of you sit on the grass, facing the famed 'Sunflower Tower' made of Mikage granite.
The two of you found yourselves in your little hideaway, with nothing but the sky, the sun, the flowers, and the tower, and of course, each other.
“Sounds like something fresh outta a fairy tale,”
Nodding, you fold your legs, drawing your knees near. “Sunflowers are quite tall, after all. Tall and tough flowers.”
“Like me?”
Laughing, your turn to him, staring at him for a while. “Maybe. Especially with your blond dye.”
At the mention of his hair, he runs a hand through it. “…I’m, uh, thinking of keeping it.”
“You should,” your eyes follow his hands carding through his hair, dark roots slowly showing through. “it’ll be your signature look.”
Running a hand through the back of his hair, he fists them there, unable to look away from you.
You.
Amazing, smart, patient, kind, selfless, beautiful you.
“(Y/N)…” your name came easy through his mouth.
Tilting your head, letting strands of hair slip off your shoulders, you parrot back, “Atsumu…”
Just when did everything seem to feel different between you two? And just how long had he missed the way you look bathed in the sunlight?
Fidgeting a little, Atsumu could feel his strength leave him, being at the receiving end of your gaze. However, looking up, he also draws strength from them.
“I, uh, I kept them,” at your frowned confusion, he shyly – oh so quietly, adds, “your letters.”
Immediately, your face burns, feeling goosebumps run all over your spine. “Ugh,” slapping your hands over your eyes, you wish you could also slap the cringe away. “why.”
Atsumu smiles, despite your apparent horror, shrugging easily.
“It’s a reminder, I guess. A reminder that someone actually liked me. Genuinely and truly. Thought of me. Appreciated me. Written and practically poured her heart out in paper, when it’s the fucking twenty first century. Living proof that someone did that for me, but I was the asshole who humiliated her for something so genuine and heartfelt.”
You would’ve argued then and there, having seen the many love letters he and his brother received from his fan club over the years. And yet, the only one he recognizes are yours.
“Atsumu,” words were failing you, so you just sighed. “that’s behind us now.”
But the look on his face wouldn’t go away, eyes darkening – a dangerous storm brewing, festering.
"You can't return my feelings,” you say kindly. “that's not your fault neither is it your problem."
"Y-Yeah, but I could at least try to-"
"Atsumu, stop. Just, stop.” Turning to him, you take his hand in yours – the one with a scar, fingers rubbing comfortingly. “Please.” You’ve thought about it for a while, a long while, it needed to be said. “I'm not going to force you to like me back, it's not right and it's just wrong. Just because I liked you doesn't mean you're obligated to return my feelings when you clearly don't like me like that. That's that."
"B-But-"
"Besides, I've already accepted it – that my feelings can't reach you." swallowing down it all - the heartache and pain, you lifted your gaze and offered a smile. "If all you're worried about is me forgiving you, rest assured that I have."
"But I don't deserve your forgiveness!" he all but screams, shocking you, his eyes were wet and filled with so much remorse, pain, helplessness, and regret. "I've been an ass to you, (Y/N)! I hurt you while you were already hurting," he remembered having to listen to your cries, muffled behind your hands, the forced smiles, the pained look in your eyes, your back turned to him, his panic of not being able to find you during practice. The realization of the distance between both of you because of him. "I walked around you even though you were breaking from the inside. I might as well be worse than your deadbeat, asshole of a father because I wasn't there for you. I hurt you just as he did! I failed you! I-I-"
A gentle hand touched his elbow, shaking him, he looks up, meeting your kind (e/c) gaze. And that smile, that same kind smile that stretched to your eyes, reflecting an oh so loving gaze he knew he didn't deserve. Even without saying a word, you understood everything he wanted to say, all the sorries that's been resting on his tongue, heavy with the weight of his sins, of the burdens of hurting you, of the love he's had and continue to have for you.
He didn't deserve you.
You didn't deserve him.
But you both loved each other just as much.
"(Y-Y/N)," his voice was barely a whisper, wet and croaking. "I'm so sorry...!"
Enveloping you into a hug, he cries into your shoulder, repeatedly saying “I’m sorry” over and over again.
And you just hold him, caressing his head with your other hand.
“I’ll always love you, Atsumu,” your confession just tore at him, tears leaking more. “you will always be my first love, and that will never change.”
Atsumu hugs you tighter, cries harder. “I love you, too.”
When you let go, there was a smile on your face – a radiant, bright, reflected in your eyes that it brightened up your whole face. Like a sunflower greeting the sun, Atsumu found himself smiling, too. Released from the embrace, in his eyes, he feels his heart fill with a bittersweet sense of warmth and twinge.
Despite it all, it still felt good. It felt really good. Talking to you, settling things with you, loving you – it felt right.
Certain people come into our lives whether we like it or not, and you were no exception.
Sadly, just because you came into their life doesn’t automatically guarantee that they’ll stay with you forever. You can only have them for a time.
One of them may end up as your first love, but it's not guaranteed that they will be your last. They'll be just that - your first love, the first person you offered your heart to, but not the person who gets to keep it.
You were his forever person, the first love he realized too late.
end.
#(un)loving miya atsumu#miya atsumu x reader#miya atsumu#miya atsumu fic#miya atsumu angst#miya atsumu angst fic#atsumu x reader#haikyuu!!#haikyuu!! x reader#haikyuu!! fic#haikyuu!! angst#haikyuu!! angst fic#hq#hq x reader#hq angst#hq fic#hq angst fic#inarizaki#angst#angst fic#angst fanfiction
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hey honey! how are you doing?
i was wondering if you could write something where the reader is either tom or harrison’s sister, around 19-20 years old, and she hears her brother talking bad about her behind her back and she gets distant towards them and her brother realizes how much he’s missing out on (her first boyfriend and stuff like that)
sorry if it’s long or if you don’t wanna write it lol it was just an idea!!
don’t be sorry! i loved this! also doing pretty good :-)
i didn’t really understand what was in the ending parentheticals so i hope this is what you wanted!
wc: 1.7k
—
Being the established girl in a group of four boys meant a lot of things. Often, you were confused as a girlfriend to whichever boy you were accompanying, aside from your brother, of course. There was a lot of territory that came with being close family-friends with the Holland family. Especially since your brother used to be Tom’s assistant. It was expected, though, because they had been close friends growing up, especially since being in the same grade.
You were younger, which meant you were in between ages for the twins and Paddy. You didn’t consider yourself too young for them, though, and found yourself in the presence of the boys for most of your time.
Today, however, you were with your friend Aisha, walking around the shops. She had to leave unexpectedly early, so you parted ways. You came into the house quietly, setting a few things as you silently made your way into the kitchen. It wasn’t actually your house, but you practically spent all of your time there anyways. You heard voices coming from the den. Though you knew it was wrong, you halted in announcing your arrival, choosing to listen in on what they seemed to be joking around about.
“Finally got ‘er off your back, huh mate?” You heard Tom’s voice, followed with joined laughter from everyone else. Your mind wandered, thinking maybe Harrison had a girl he was interested in, though he never brought that up, so you stayed quiet to hear more.
“Yeah. Out with Aisha or whatever.”
Your eyes widened as the realization dawned on you. You purse your lips and think not to assume anything just yet.
“That her only her friend?”
“Honestly,” Harrison laughs in agreement. “Mum said to be a good older brother but I’m tired of playing babysitter.” They all laugh again and you will yourself not to burst into anger — or worse: cry. “She’s gotta grow up or something.”
“Mate.” Tom snickers. “She needs a life. The boys are a tight circle; can’t let no baby sister in on that.”
“Yeah,” Harry’s voice pops in. “Who else would we spill disgusting secrets to?” They laugh seemingly in universal knowledge.
“Anyways,” Tom settles down. “Good thing we finally got the superior Osterfield alone, for once.”
You abandon your station near the kitchen door and speed walk out the other swing door. You pick your bags up quietly, making for a quick escape as your tears attempt the same. You’re almost done putting your shoes on when Sam comes down the stairs, brows furrowed while he wipes his damp hands on the front of the shirt. You curse in realizing he was probably in the bathroom.
“Y/N? Everything okay?”
“Uh…” You glance to the hallway that leads to the kitchen, wearily hoping nobody comes out. “Yeah, just uh… forgot I had to do something. I’ll see you later.”
You quickly make your way out of the house, shoving everything into your car while you can, starting the engine with great speed. Sam was in the middle of saying something else to you on your wait out, but he never got around to finishing because you were already out of the door.
He didn’t mention anything to the boys, trusting that you were okay and that you did actually have something to do.
That night, you tried not to cry yourself to sleep in your small apartment, one you shared with Aisha. When you woke the next morning, she wanted to go to the skating rink for some fun, so you agreed, eating breakfast before showering. You spent the entire day there, really, and let your phone in a rented locker, ignoring the texts from a few of the boys asking if you wanted to come over for a movie and some pizza.
When you did have the chance to reply — over five hours later — you gave them scarce replies in the main group chat, apologizing without much sorrow. From their end, they shook it off, knowing you probably just had other plans that specific day. The five of you were planning on going to the golfing course tomorrow, so you’d get time together then.
But they were wrong, because you cancelled on them, simply stating that “golf isn’t your mood, today.” They’d accepted that, but Harry knew that was bullshit, because half of the fun of golfing was competing with you.
They tried not to think much of your absence while they were on the field, but it was weird and awfully quiet without you. They’d figured it might be different throughout the week, but they were still wrong. You were with other people throughout the week while you could be, and it only made it worse for the boys because you were posting it all over your social media. Not in a flaunting manner, but just for the aesthetics. They didn’t find it very pleasing, though.
Harrison knew something was off, knew you didn’t normally just start ghosting people unless you had a real reason. He intended on figuring out what that reason was, and Tom was hell bent on learning it too. They drew up a plan to get you to come over, telling you they had a few of your missing things. You complied, figuring you’d have to face them at some point.
Strolling up to the house for the first time in ten days, you opened the door as casually as you could, only to be met with four pairs of eyes staring in your directions from seats in the open living room.
“Uhm,” You cleared your throat. “Where’s my stuff?” Tom wordlessly points to a bag on the head of the couch, and you pick it up wearily, sifting through it while you hummed. “Thanks, I’ll just take this and get out of your hair.”
“Well, wait-” Tom stands abruptly. “Why… why don’t you hang out for a bit?”
“I mean… do you want to?” The tone in which you speak catches him off guard for all of ten seconds before each of the boys are nodding their heads.
“Of course we do.” Harrison smiles and you nod wearily.
“Okay.”
However, you don’t make any move in settling down for the long run, and Tom huffs. “What’s going on here?”
“What do you mean?”
“You’re avoiding us!” Harry concludes. “Why?”
You clear your throat, looking at your feet while your tongue clicks. “I, uhm, I heard you guys talking the other day.”
Harrison raises his eyebrows as a silent message for you to elaborate a little.
“You said you were tired of babysitting me, so I gave you guys some space.” They all physically defeat and you begin to defend yourself. “I just thought it’s what you wanted! You don’t have to explain.” You’re unknowingly beginning to tear up, and they all know it before you do.
“I think we should talk.”
“No, I- uhm…” You glance out the window to your car. “I should really get going.”
“No!” Harry pleads with you. “We just… we miss you.”
You stop short in your tracks, turning around slowly. “Well I don’t really think you get to. Not after what I heard.”
“That’s not fair, Y/N/N, and you know it.” Harrison’s stern with you, and you can feel the tension beginning to set nicely like a creamer.
“None of this is really fair for me, so why should it be fair for you?” You point a finger up in their direction while you shrug offendedly. “I mean, if you’re gonna say one thing don’t act like you don’t mean it.”
“But we didn’t,” Harrison says.
“Really, we didn’t. It was a stupid thing to say.” Tom adds on.
“Yeah, we’d never say it knowing you were there.”
“Oh, but you’d say it if I wasn’t around?” You’re making this more difficult, you realize, but you don’t much care, because when feelings get hurt, things get difficult, and you’ve come to terms with that.
“That’s not what I meant.” Harrison crosses his arm.
“No, but that’s what you implied.” You jab him back with your next words.
“Stop making this hard.” He’s reminding you of what things were like when you were young and arguments were regular.
“I’m not the one that started this.” You huff angrily, hand finally gripping the handle of the front door, swinging it open and slamming it harshly with an “I’ll see you all around.”
Tom blinks, glancing to Harrison in question on what to do next. Harrison sighs and so does Harry.
“I saw her leaving that day she heard you guys.” Sam speaks calmly, almost nervously. “She was- uh… she was crying.”
“Oh jesus.” Tom groans, hands running through his curls. “We made her cry, Haz.”
“I know, I know.” He speaks hastily. “C’mon, I know what to do.” He picks his coat up, opening the front door as the rest of the boys follow him out.
You’re coming home that night after spending the rest of your day at the country club with some friends. You’re alone, of course, expecting to eat dinner with Aisha, though the two of you normally dine separately because you’re always with the boys and she’s always with her girlfriend. Things are different now, though.
As you open the door to your flat, you expect to find it dark and empty, but you’re met with your favorite take out meal and four very sorry boys, a large teddy bear sitting on the couch for you. You drop your bags and glance at each of them.
“What’s all this?”
“We’re really, really, really sorry.” Harrison steps forward with an apologetic smile and three DVD disks in his hands, all of your favorite movies. “But me especially. I love having you around… even if you are my baby sister.” You slap his arm playfully and he laughs. You let a smile creep onto your face at his demeanor. “We really missed you this past week.”
You nodded, fiddling with your fingers. “It just… hurt. You broke the one rule I thought…. The rule I thought we all swore to keep.”
“I know.” He sighs, looking at the boys as everyone says it simultaneously. “The circle before yourself.”
You’d seemingly all established it during your first all-nighter as a group of five. You vowed to put them before your own silly ego or public facade. Obviously, some things are harder for others.
“Can you ever forgive me?”
“Can you ever forgive us?” Tom speaks up, eyes deep.
You smile softly, voice laced with feelings. “Of course I can.” You don’t miss the smiles that break out onto their faces, and when everyone comes in for a group hug, they know things are going to be okay.
read the spinoff! - circles before yourselves - rule #2
#harrison osterfield x reader#tom holland x reader#tom holland fic#harrison osterfield fic#harrison osterfield fanfic#tom holland fanfic#tom holland angst#harrison osterfield angst#peter parker#harry holland#osterfield!reader#tom holland x osterfield!reader#reader fic#reader
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Something in the Way (Fred Weasley)
Fred Weasley x Reader
The trope of everyone else knowing two people are in love before the two have figured it out is just so adorable to me, I love reading it so thought I’d try my hand at writing it...
Fem!Reader, no house mentioned, no specific physical features
Warnings: None I don’t think
Word Count: 1.6k
Although I am using the Harry Potter universe as a basis for this story I do not support JK Rowling or her views.
Fred and Y/N’s relationship was special, everyone knew that. What they shared was unlike anything anyone had ever seen. Fred and Y/N’s relationship was loving and tender, both always willing to put the other first whatever the cost. Fred and Y/N’s relationship was lasting, for the last three years they had been looking at each other like they were the sole reason for the stars in the sky, the mists on the mountains and the full, glowing moon.
Except Fred and Y/N’s relationship didn’t exist. The two had been dancing around each other all this time, never quite getting close enough to call it love.
This was why their family and friends were on high alert, overanalyzing every look, comment, or touch exchanged by the pair. Sometimes it was the glance thrown by Ginny to George as Fred adjusted Y/N’s scarf to keep her warmer. Sometimes it was Mr and Mrs Weasley whispering conspiracies about how they couldn’t pinpoint the look in Fred’s eyes when he stared at Y/N intently at dinner earlier. Sometimes it was the abrupt and secretive silence that engulfed Harry, Hermione and Ron when Y/N appeared in front of them, bringing an end to their discussion about how oblivious the two were.
Just the other day at the Burrow the twins had been helping to decorate the tree when Molly had piped up
“Will Y/N be visiting this Christmas?” Fred’s head whipped round to frown at his mother as he finished adjusting some of the shiny muggle ‘tinsel’ Arthur Weasley had gleefully presented to his family,
“Why would Y/N be visiting?” he had questioned, shaking his head slightly and looking towards George, who averted his eyes towards a particulary intriguing bewitched bauble.
“Oh no reason,” Molly’s face fell “I just wanted to make sure she had some plans is all, dear...”
“Yeah, she does. She’s away until the new year actually” Fred had huffed, confused as to why his mother seemed more keen to spend time with his best friend than with him.
It was a frosty Saturday in January that Y/N had sent an owl saying she was popping in that afternoon to check out the stock for the new year. The air was clean and crisp yet cold enough that not many shoppers were braving the chill to visit Diagon Alley. The boys leant against the counter, George fumbling with some packaging distractedly. Ron was also working that day, taking his sweet time stacking some Blaze Boxes in the corner. Fred’s eyes kept darting to the clock,
“When did she say she’d stop by again?” he asked nonchalantly, causing George to look up
“Eh, just said afternoon I think mate, don’t worry though I’m sure we won’t be too busy to have her in” he gestured to the empty shop.
Fred stayed silent. In the corner a loud bang erupted as Ron dropped one of the boxes. Bright sparks whizzed round the room, popping and fizzing as Ron stood swearing at the front of the shop. George began to laugh but was interrupted by his twin, fist was clenched and brow furrowed -
“Bloody hell Ron, save some stock for us to actually sell, would you?”
Fred’s tone was snarky and a comment that biting sounded so strange leaving his mouth that it took all three boys aback for a moment.
“I’m not sure who spiked your cereal this morning but you can lose that tone with me... maybe when Y/N gets here you’ll be a bit nicer!” Ron pouted.
“Y/N’s clearly forgotten about her plans for this afternoon, or she’d be here by now.” Fred muttered, pushing past George on his way to the stock room.
George and Ron exchanged familiar confused looks, over the three years Y/N had been in Fred’s life an entirely new language of bewildered or disbelieving stares had formed amongst the Weasleys. Fred didn’t emerge until the bell above the door rang and Y/N’s soft voice greeted them all joyfully. As if a weight had been lifted off his chest he bounded past the till and embraced her tightly.
“I missed you, loser.”
Only a week later, the twins were sitting opposite each other, both focusing on checking the shop’s accounts (or so Fred thought) George had been turning the last interaction between his brother and Y/N over and over in his mind, wondering how on earth Fred hadn’t connected his bad mood to the absence of his dearest ‘friend’. He coughed and sat up, straightening his back, but failed to make eye contact with his brother who was still hunched over the large leather-bound book.
“Why do you think Y/N is single?” he pondered aloud, noting the way Fred’s head flicked up at the mention of her name alone.
“That’s obvious - nobody we know is good enough for her.” Fred stated, as if George was silly for not considering such a simple explanation.
“Ah yeah... obviously,” George coughed, attempting to hide his laugh. He made eye contact with his twin “are you sure we don’t know anyone?” he asked slowly, hoping Fred might finally catch on.
“Listen, I don’t know what this is all about but if you’re thinking of trying anything I would advise you to check the mirror to confirm that you closely resemble a mountain troll.. and I know it’s been 2 days since you last showered, therefore Y/N would never even consider it, okay?” Fred snapped
George spluttered with laughter before managing to stammer out
“First off, we’re identical you absolute savage.”
Fred just shook his head, “Anyone with taste knows I’m the better looking twin.”
Fred wasn’t just fiercely protective of Y/N but he would also go to the ends of the earth for her, this much was clear to everyone...except her. It started with one, two, three butterbeers on him and developed into Y/N being able to attend plans with the twins without her purse. It was established that Fred would not allow her to part with as much as a knut whilst in his company. Nor would he allow her to spend it on his company, any product she showed interest in (or looked at for more than five seconds) was hastily put aside for her, sometimes with a shimmering ribbon clumsily knotted round it.
“As a gift, on the house, absolutely no need for your money darling” he would assure her every single time.
In fact, the only payment he would accept was if she came to work for Weasley’s Wizard Wheezes - “you’d be amazing, Y/N you’re so good with kids, and I know you can really push sales - who could say no to you?” he had pleaded, whilst she flushed red and chuckled... “funnily enough Freddie, pretty much everyone apart from you can say no to me, you poor sod!”
This hypothesis was correct, and had been proven time and time again. When everyone gathered for dinner at Harry and Ginny’s house instead of apparating in Fred, Y/N and George had stood shivering on the doorstep, waiting for the door to be answered. When Ginny pulled it open all three of them bundled in to the warm hallway, slipping off coats and hats.
“Why didn’t you guys apparate? It’s bloody freezing out there tonight!” she had remarked, noting that all three had cheeks flushed with cold and pink shading the tips of their noses. George tutted and glared at Fred, speaking lowly so only Ginny could hear
“Because, my dear sister, Y/N doesn’t really like apparating so obviously Fred wouldn’t allow it!” At the same time Y/N piped up, not having heard his comment,
“We all fancied a walk I think didn’t we Freddie?... George?”
George rolled his eyes but nodded enthusiastically and Y/N beamed as Ginny led them through to the dining room as the feeling in their fingertips began to return.
The spread that had been prepared looked divine, the smell travelled through the whole house and made Fred’s mouth water.
Food was shared around and wine poured, everyone caught up on the excitement of Christmas and the New Year, and congratulated the twins on the soaring sales of the new launch. George took the chance to mention his new girlfriend, Guenevere, to the group - causing Ginny and Hermione to squeal with delight and Ron to lean over and smack him on the back in congratulations. Harry nodded along with the conversation, focused on the plate infront of him. That is, until he looked at Fred quizically
“When do you think you’ll meet someone, Fred?” he asked gently, with not a hint of malice in his voice, if anything he was trying to nudge Fred’s thoughts of the future towards Y/N, who sat on his left.
The atmosphere in the room felt a little like a joke that everyone except Fred and Y/N were in on, everyone waited with baited breath for Fred to talk. They gasped slightly when he turned to face Y/N... then George...
“Um, I don’t know, really, at the moment I’m alright just hanging out with George and Y/N, they’re all I really need just now... and you guys, of course, and the shop. But that all goes without saying”
The entire table let out a frustrated sigh, they had been so close but were once again disappointed with his answer, Fred was none the wiser.
‘Goes without saying my arse’ George (and the others) thought grumpily. All they wanted was Fred to say it, to say anything, to call it what it was.
The two had been dancing around each other almost four years, still never getting close enough to call it love.
A/N: Thought I’d give another bit of Fred writing a go, as my George one has been so much more popular than my last Fred one, give the boy a chance! Also this kind of invites a part two, so if anyone has any suggestions of scenarios in which these two finally get together, send em my way. Much love.
#fred weasley x reader#fred weasley imagine#fred weasley one shot#fred weasley fic#harry potter imagines#harry potter one shots#harry potter fic#fred weasley fluff#hp fic#hp imagine#hp one shot#fred weasley
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Party
Day 31 for @huffletrax YuleTube prompt list! I had a lot of fun writing these stories, honestly. A few of them even let me expand the Chaos is Normal universe a little bit, which was really fun.
This story does include some mildly suggestive content (roughly to the extent that “Dark” had, so it isn’t anything major, but I thought it would be a good idea to give a heads-up).
Party
Roman was excited for the New Year’s Eve party he and Remus had pulled together. They had finished decorating the smaller ballroom in the central castle in the Imagination. It had been determined that this would happen even before Janus had revealed his name, but it was even bigger now that his joining the main group was being celebrated, as well.
Roman straightened out his ascot and secured it with the tie pin that featured his logo. He knew Remus would be in a similar outfit tonight; they’d planned that out, after all. The Prince pulled on his vest and buttoned it up, before sitting on the bench at the end of his bed and pulling on his tall boots, lacing them up and tying them. He tucked the ends of the laces into the boots, and stood once more, adjusting his hair in the mirror before straightening up, smiling a bit to himself. His boots were black, as he usually wore. His pants were white, and fit close to his frame. Roman had on a red dress shirt, with a white ascot, and over that he had a white vest with gold roses embroidered in. Over everything, he pulled on a red tailcoat. He rarely wore this suit, finding it far too formal for most events, and especially before Remus was accepted, he hated wearing it, as it made him stand out a bit much even for his own liking. But, Remus would be in a similar suit, which comforted him.
Roman came into the ballroom to find the castle staff setting out different food and drink options, and Remus setting up a few smaller things off to the side. Remus was in a similar outfit to Roman, though his clothes were black where Roman’s were white, green where Roman’s were red, and instead of gold roses, Remus’ vest had silver thorns embroidered in. Remus’ mustache was trimmed and neat, and his hair, though fluffy, was actually combed, and the white streak was freshly touched up, going by just how brightly it stood out from the rest of his hair.
“Looking good, Re,” Roman praised with a smile. It wasn’t often Remus would clean up like this, so it was quite a sight.
“Right back at ya, Romano,” Remus smiled. “Matthew keeps trying to get me to put on my damn crown.”
“I almost forgot about the crowns,” Roman mused. “Would you wear it if I wore mine?”
“They’re still dumb.”
“We’ll look dumb together, then.”
“Fine.”
Almost immediately, a pair of castle staff approached the pair, one carrying a gold crown with red jewels set into it, and the other carrying a silver crown with green jewels set into it. The crowns were set on each twins’ head, and the two staff bowed and took off to assist with final preparations. It didn’t take long for things to be completely ready, just in time for the other residents of the Mindscape to enter.
Logan was first, unsurprisingly. They were dressed in a fairly simple suit, with black shoes, dark blue slacks and matching jacket, black shirt, and a two-toned blue tie consisting of a dark blue base color, and lighter blue circuit-board patterning. Their hair was combed back neatly away from their face, and they actually looked a bit intimidating.
Entering next was Janus. He was in a set of black shoes and black slacks, a yellow dress shirt, black bowtie, and a black suit jacket with an intricate snake embroidered into the left side with metallic gold thread. As usual, he had his yellow gloves, bowler hat, and capelet on, as well. As always, he looked put together.
Patton and Emile entered together. Patton wore the grey suit he’d worn in the courtroom before Lee and Mary-Lee’s wedding, though his jacket had hearts and swirls embroidered into it in light blue, and he had a small frog pin on his lapel. Meanwhile, Emile wore a tan two-piece suit, white shirt, and a light blue tie with a light pink paisley pattern on it. It was a new tie Patton had just given him for Christmas, and Emile seemed to love it.
Virgil came in next, dressed in black skinny jeans, black heeled boots, a purple dress shirt, black tie with shimmery purple spiderwebs patterned on it, and a black vest with his usual purple and black patches and white stitches. His eyeshadow was more glittery than usual, and had a purple tint to it, and he was wearing proper eyeliner, as well.
Remy and Dice came in last, entering together. Remy had on his dark sunglasses, like he always did, along with a set of black shoes, black skinny jeans, a white dress shirt with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows, a tie the color of coffee with a bit of cream added with a pattern of white Zzz’s all over it, and matching suspenders. Dice, meanwhile, was wearing black shoes, black slacks, a dark grey turtleneck, a dark plum suit jacket, and a scarf made to look like a strip of film. To say they both looked good would be an understatement.
With everyone now in the ballroom, the party was able to properly begin. Everyone seemed to be having a good time, chatting, eating, drinking, and getting up to various sorts of shenanigans. Remus pulled Logan aside to dance, Remy was seemingly playing a game with himself to see just how bright he could get Patton and Emile to blush -which at some point the other two seemed to join in on and retaliate, trying to make Remy blush as bright as they could get him to-, Janus was chatting with Dice about various movies, and Virgil and Roman were joking and chatting.
By the time midnight was approaching, just about everyone had shed at least one layer of their clothes. Remus and Roman had both ditched their tailcoats, many of the others had shed their jackets, Dice had also taken off his scarf, Janus had taken off his capelet, hat, and jacket, and untied his bowtie, Remy’s suspenders were no longer on his shoulders, but rather hanging from where they were secured to his pants, Virgil was walking around without his shoes on, and even Logan had taken off their jacket and loosened their tie.
Patton, Emile, and Remy were growing fairly handsy with one another, and Remus and Janus were in a similar state. Virgil half-joked that it wouldn’t be surprising if people had various bruises in the morning. Roman had simply swept him into another dance in response.
Time practically flew until they were approaching the final countdown to the new year. Roman attempted to get everyone’s attention, though over the noise his words were lost, until Remus got up on a table, cupped his hands around his mouth, and shouted.
“Hey, horny bastards, listen up!” Remus called out over the group, catching everyone’s attention and directing their eyes to him as he cackled.
“To be fair, you’re a horny bastard, yourself,” Logan stated, pushing their glasses up the bridge of their nose.
“Yeah, but that’s my natural state of being,” Remus shrugged.
“Put a pin in that, for now,” Roman stated. “I just wanna say, before we ring in the new year, that this year was quite a ride. We’ve helped Thomas, helped each other. Hell, there’s no more Dark Side to the Mindscape! We’re all together, now. Thomas met a cute guy, we accepted Remus,” he paused and looked at his twin, smiling a bit as Remus looked back up at him with a smile of his own. “Logan came out of the closet, and we finally learned Janus’ name. Sure, Thomas skipped out on a massive call-back, and went to a wedding where he felt like he was just another face in the crowd, and, he burnt himself out… But, we’ve all learned from all that. This coming year will be better, I know it,” he finished, as the others murmured their agreements.
Soon, the group had all pulled themselves together enough to head out onto the balcony and join the final countdown to the new year. Roman had Virgil held close, an arm around his shoulders. Remy had Patton and Emile held close to him, and Remus held Janus and Logan around the shoulders. Dice was leaning against the wall near everybody else, seemingly unbothered by the fact he wasn’t being held close by someone else.
Finally, the countdown began.
“Ten… Nine… Eight… Seven… Six… Five… Four… Three… Two… One… Happy New Year!��
The Sides all joined in, cheering as fireworks began to go off overhead. There were kisses exchanged, laughter, and just a wave of joy coming over everyone. It was enough excitement to turn Virgil’s eyeshadow a bright, glittery purple as Roman pulled him into a kiss.
It was another hour or two until everyone finally started to head to their own rooms. Roman and Remus simply snapped away the mess left behind, before leaving with their partners to go back into the main Mindscape. It had been quite the party to welcome the new year, and everyone was hoping that things would look up in the coming year. In the morning, they would all be talking about the previous night, once they started to recover from the late night and drinks. For now, though, everyone was off to likely either fool around, or simply rest, crashing half-dressed on their beds.
#Holidays2020#Day31#Sanders Sides Fanfic#Sanders Sides#Roman Sanders#Remus Sanders#Janus Sanders#Logan Sanders#Patton Sanders#Virgil Sanders#Dr. Emile Picani#Dice Sanders#Remy Sanders#Creativitwins#Brotherly Creativitwins#Prinxiety#Patton x Remy x Emile#Intruloceit#Sympathetic Janus#Sympathetic Remus#Sympathetic Dark Sides#New Year's Eve#New Year's Eve Party#Semi-Formal Wear#Kissing#Remus Being Remus#Implied Smut#Loosely Implied but Still#New Year's Speech#Fireworks
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maybe in another universe | h. holland
this is supposed to be pt. two to the sweater, but you don’t need to read that before reading this!
warnings: alcohol consumption but everyone is of legal drinking age, a little bit of angst(?)
harry holland was still on your mind five months after your break up. he was still the love of your life and nothing could change that. as much as you missed him you guys were over, nothing could change that. everything reminded you of him, as it should have after spending more than two years together. you couldn’t help but wonder if he still thought of you.
autumn leaves had already begun to fall. you were sitting on your bed, a blanket wrapped around your shoulders to keep you warm, as you were working on an analysis for your statistics class. you missed the way he would keep you company while you were doing your schoolwork. you missed the way he would remind you to take breaks when you were too motivated to stop, or when he would get you to focus when you lacked motivation. you missed the comfort of his company, you missed him. after saving the document, you shut your laptop and thought about him. but if the universe wanted us together, then we would’ve stayed together. in an attempt to distract yourself, you headed to the kitchen to make yourself a snack and a cup of tea.
“things will get better,” you said in a failed attempt to make light of how you were feeling.
hours later you found yourself getting ready for a party. allie had texted you half an hour ago saying that she was coming by your place at eight and that you guys were going to go to a party that a mutual friend of hers was throwing. you wore a black mini dress, did your hair and put on some makeup. after putting your heels on, you looked at yourself in the mirror and felt confident.
you poured a shot but a knock at your door prevented you from taking it. you opened the door to see allie standing there. her tanned skin practically glowing under the porch lights, and her red dress hugging every curve of her body. she looked like a goddess, and she knew it. “hi lovey!” she pulled you in for a hug. “are you ready to go?” you looked back inside at the shot glass sitting on your counter, but instead grabbed your bag and phone and nodded. “great! let’s go!” you followed allie as she got into a car, an uber perhaps, and then you were off to the party.
bodies flooded the house. as you and allie shoved your way past you found yourself searching the room to see if anyone else you knew was here. before you knew it, you and allie found yourselves in the kitchen pouring and mixing your own drinks. mostly vodka, very very little of anything else. your eyes scanned the room looking to see if harry was here, but you didn’t spot him.
“you know, y/n, you need to stop acting as if you’re gonna run into him everywhere! just relax dude, have fun!” allie said, taking a sip from the red solo cup in her hand shortly afterwards. you followed her actions, taking a sip of the mostly vodka, barely anything else, concoction that you had made. scrunching up your face at the taste, you looked around the room for some exit - there for not even 5 minutes and you already wanted to leave.
“i still don’t understand why you dragged me out here allie.” you took another sip of your drink, suddenly thinking that this odd mixture tastes good.
“you are gonna have fun tonight and you are gonna thank me, babe. trust me.” a sly smile appeared on her face. though she didn’t have anything planned, you could tell that something was going to happen. you wanted so desperately to go back home and work on an essay for one of your classes. you wanted so desperately to get out of here and go get some fast food, then go home and binge-watch new girl. you didn’t want to be alone, you just wanted to leave the party.
the cogs in your brain started turning as soon as she gave you a look that screamed she was scheming. what in the world did she have planned? you thought. you leaned back onto the granite countertop, deep in thought when it suddenly dawned on you. she’s going to get me absolutely wasted.
allie grabbed your hand and led you out of the kitchen, through the sea of bodies yet again to where everyone was dancing. blinding lights by the weeknd was playing through the speakers as you and allie sang along and moved to the beat. for a while, it felt like all of your concerns had left your body and all you were focused on was dancing with your best friend. swaying your hips back and forth. you were drunk, but you were having fun. you forgot that you were heartbroken, that was all you needed.
•••
harry holland walked into the pub with his friends and brothers. they sat down at a table near the back of the pub, as per usual, and ordered a few beers. ‘guys night’ was what they had called it, but harry wasn’t dumb. he knew he had been sulking for too long and they were trying to take his mind off the breakup. it had been five months, but the wound was still as fresh as ever.
“we’re just gonna have a few rounds and then go to drew’s party, yeah?” sam asked. of course he knew the plan, but he was making sure that his brother knew the plan. harry nodded in agreement, but he didn’t know why they didn’t just pre at their house, or how they even knew drew. harry stayed in the dark with his questions.
harry looked around the dim pub as if his eyes were searching for an escape. he may not of had any work to do, but he wanted to spend the night watching netflix with tessa by his side. harry was never one to turn down drinks and a night out, but he was out of it.
tom snapped his fingers in front of harry’s face, breaking his thoughts and bringing him back to the conversation.
“you alright there?” tom said lightheartedly, a gentle laugh being let out.
“yeah i’m fine.” the drinks had arrived just as harry finished his sentence. he grabbed one and took a long sip of the alcohol, hoping that it would loosen him up and make him more present.
the group quickly went back to their initial conversation, except harry participated this time around. 
“do you even know who’s gonna be at drew’s party?” tom asked, taking a sip from the beer in his hand. the truth was, no one knew who was going to be there.
drew was one of sam’s friends that he had met through a girl that he was seeing at the time. even after she and sam decided that they weren’t really meant for each other, he and drew stayed close. drew had a reputation for throwing huge parties, and they were the best parties. though harry didn’t want to admit it to himself, he really wanted to go knowing that he could take his mind off of y/n and find another girl in place of her.
a few more drinks and an uber ride later, the boys found themselves outside of drew’s house. it wasn’t extravagant, but it was a little bit larger than harry, tom’s, and harrison’s shared house.
they walked up to the door and let themselves in. sam led them down a hallway, pushing past the crowd of people so they could enter the kitchen. as they walked in and started pouring their own drinks, harry couldn’t help but notice the couples sprinkled about the room, making out with no shame. he was ashamed to admit it, but he wishes he had someone with him so he could be one of those couples.
sam handed him a red solo cup filled with a mixture that was sat in a cooler. harry didn’t know how long it was sitting there for, but it was still cold, and that’s all he needed. harry downed the drink, handing the now empty red cup back to sam for a refill as all his friends looked at him with wide eyes.
“mate, he just handed you the cup, what the fuck?” harrison said. the whole group was shocked. it wasn’t a secret that harry was more likely to get wasted at a party, but they’ve never seen him like this.
sam handed harry back his cup, now full, and said, “don’t you dare down this, i’m not getting you another drink and i sure as hell won’t be carrying you home.” though sam would willingly give up a kidney for his twin, he didn’t want harry to turn into an alcoholic. he was one of the few people who know how bad the break up was for him, and he really didn’t want harry to have a bad time tonight because he was dwelling. somehow sam knew that harry was going to be okay tonight, but that didn’t stop him from worrying.
•••
four drinks later, you and allie had teamed up for beer pong. the table was set up in the backyard of whoever’s house you were in. it had been a few hours, and you still hadn’t figured out who owned the house or whose party you were at, but the important part was you and allie kicked the other team’s ass. it was a glorious moment for you, and in it, you completely forgot about harry holland.
you were very obviously drunk at this point. after almost falling over multiple times while you and allie made your way back inside the house, your eyes landed on harry. he was with tuwaine, harrison, sam and tom. you wanted so badly to believe that you were imagining this, but as tuwaine noticed you and allie, he immediately stiffened up.
harry had a cup in his hand and was leaning against the countertop. the black bomber jacket that you used to steal was the only thing you processed about him before allie pulled you into a quieter area of the house.
“shit, babe i swear i didn’t know he was coming or that he was even invited. i’m so so sorry y/n.” allie said. she was freaking out as much as you were, but instead of freaking out with her, you brushed it aside.
“allie, seriously it’s fine. let’s get another drink, get me wasted, dance a little bit, and then let's go to a twenty-four hour macca’s!” the alcohol was clearly speaking and acting for you as you dragged allie back into the kitchen, which was now holland free, grabbed two cans of beer and handed one to allie. you opened your can and took a large sip. the plan was in motion and nothing was going to stop you. allie looked concerned for you, but she knew there was nothing she could ever do to stop you once you’ve gotten this far. allie knew the night wasn’t going to end well.
the two of you made your way back to the dance floor and began dancing with each other. the sound by the 1975 was filling your ears, you and allie singing loudly along with it.
as the song ended you decided that you couldn’t stay inside any longer, so you and allie went out to the back where you had played beer pong earlier. it was much quieter than the loud and bass-heavy room you were previously in, much cooler too. you’d had enough of the sweaty bodies pressed around you, so you and allie went to the back of their backyard and sat in some empty chairs.
you had begun to go on about how you were sure you weren’t going to remember much from this night, transitioning into questioning how much you had to drink. allie laughed at you as you tried to count on your fingers, but failing to add up the total. then there was comfortable silence between the two of you. the occasional cheering from the beer pong players accompanied by the conversations that other people in the yard were having had calmed you down. you looked up at the sky, a little cloudy, but you could still make out a few of the constellations that decorated the night sky. it was well after midnight at this point, but it felt like the night was just beginning. you looked back at allie who smiled at you, and you smiled back with your red lipstick stained lips.
•••
harry stumbled down the steps as he decided to call an uber back to his house. after seeing you, he decided that the universe was giving him a reason to go home and be alone. he was also a little bit too drunk to hold his own and any reason to leave was a good reason.
as the copper curly-headed boy walked up to the sidewalk he noticed two girls talking. one wearing a red bodycon dress, the other wearing a black dress. they were clearly invested in the conversation, but as the red dress wearing girl, she froze. harry’s eyes widened as he realized who she was. to ease the awkward tension between him and the two girls, one of whom still didn’t know he was there, he gave allie a small smile which she returned.
if he had known the girl who he was still in love with was going to be at drew’s party, he wouldn’t have shown up.
allie had walked away without harry knowing, leaving y/n alone with him. they were standing out on the sidewalk alone in silence while harry was struggling to call an uber. harry let out a quiet, ‘fuck,’ as he realized his uber was 15 minutes away. he sighed and quietly laughed at how badly his night was ending. harry looked to his left to see y/n still standing there.
“so, how was the party for you?” y/n asked. allie forced you to talk to him, bribing you with a nice bottle of rosé and a fresh baguette, things that y/n could easily buy, but just didn’t want to. the offer was impossible for y/n to turn down, mainly because you were a sucker for wine.
harry looked at the girl next to him, confused that you were talking to him, but relieved that they weren’t left in awkward silence.
“it was good,” he paused for a second before continuing, “wait, how do you and allie know drew?” harry moved to sit on the edge of the sidewalk, and you followed his actions.
“drew is one of allie’s mutual friends. i think she knows him because of hayden greene, not sure though.” silence reentered their conversation, but this time, it was more comfortable for the both of them. minutes passed before you spoke up again. “i’m gonna be honest with you for a second, i only went because allie dragged me out here. she said i was wallowing in self pity.” a small smile appeared on your face and you gently shook your head knowing that allie was telling the truth.
“sam planned our little escapade. honestly, i’d rather be on the couch with tess right now watching netflix or a film that i’ve seen one too many times.” he sighed realizing his brother’s efforts had failed to distract him and had failed to give him a night free of you, but he was glad he saw you and was talking to you. “there’s not a day that goes by where i don’t think about you, you know that?” a small chuckle left his mouth. he was looking at her, hoping that you would look back at him, but you never did. eyes focused on the road in front of them, eyes on the lawn of the house across the street from drew’s, eyes on the sewer grates, eyes on everything but his brown ones. “i really miss you.” the alcohol was making him say this, but his words were nothing but the truth.
the desperation in harry’s voice was evident to you.
“i miss you too h.” you tilted her head to look up at him, and for the first time that night, you had a good look at his face. your eyes focused on every freckle that appeared on his skin, his lips, on every curl that you once swore was perfect. “you know, maybe in another lifetime we’d still be together h.” you let out a small laugh. ever since the breakup, you’d blamed everything on yourself. you’d convinced yourself that if you hadn’t made the decisions that you did near the end of your relationship that he would still be with you.
harry looked down at the road under his white high top converse, taking in the words you had just said. his eyebrows furrowed as confusion took over his thoughts.
“why can’t we be together in this lifetime? i know our breakup wasn’t something that either of us wanted.” he looked back up at you, shifting his body slightly to face you better, and you mirrored his actions to face him. he took your hands in his, his thumbs running over the backs of your hands as if he was trying to memorize them for the last time. “can’t we fix us?” harry was pleading at this point and he knew it, but he just wanted you back.
“harry, i-“ the uber pulled up to the house.
“come with me, we can go back to my place and talk this over. i’ll uber you home afterwards. please, just come with me y/n.” harry searched your eyes for any sort of opposition, but he didn’t find anything. you nodded and stood up. harry opened the car door, and after confirming that it was his uber, you both got in.
the ride back to harry’s place was filled with silence. you texted allie apologizing for leaving without her, but you promised her that you’d tell her everything that happened. the good and the bad.
after getting into the house, you quietly sighed in relief after taking your heels off. harry was now shoeless as he led you into the kitchen. you sat on a barstool, forearms resting on the countertop that capped their kitchen island. harry’s back was facing you as he grabbed two glasses of water in an attempt to sober you both up. you so desperately wanted more alcohol in your system, doubting your abilities to talk to your ex without the liquid courage.
“harry, i still love you. i really do, but didn’t we break up for a reason?” you couldn’t look at him. being the first to break the silence, you were sure your hands were shaking a little bit. they sat wrapped around the glass of water harry previously handed you.
“y/n this is the first time we saw each other in months, that has to be a sign!” his tone rose as he began to get really passionate. harry never believed in signs from the universe, but tonight changed everything. when he saw you at drew’s party he knew he had to do something, as if the universe was nudging him in your direction. “i know i never believed in the universe giving signs, but tonight had to mean something, right?” his volume dimmed at the end, as if he was getting too vulnerable and needed to retreat. you looked up at him, needing to search his expression. a sigh left your lips as you realized for the second time that night that he was wearing his heart on his sleeve just for you.
“i don’t know.” maybe the universe wanted the two of you to have closure from one another or maybe the universe was pushing you two to get back together. you couldn’t tell what the universe had in store for you, but harry on the other hand was sure that you two were supposed to get back together. he knew in his heart that this was going to be his last chance to get you back, and he was ready to put everything on the line for you. after all, he was still in love with you.
silence. no one said anything for what felt like an eternity. as you started drinking your water, harry started to bite his nails - a habit he had only when he was nervous. you picked up on this immediately and after putting down the glass, you reached over to gently pull his hand away from his mouth. your hand on his skin brought harry a familiar warmth that he didn’t realize that he was so desperate for. as for you, the feeling of your hand on his wrist only made you miss the feeling of his lips on yours.
enough was enough, you decided. you got up from the barstool and walked around to the other side of the kitchen island until you were inches away from him. he closed the gap between you, hands resting on your hips. your hands moved up to rest against his chest. the two of you didn’t need to say anything, you both knew what you wanted.
“i love you h.” your voice was so soft that you weren’t sure if he heard, but as a small genuine smile appeared on his face you knew he did.
“i’m never letting you go again y/n. i promise.” he lifted one hand from your waist, curling all his fingers down towards his palm except for his pinky and his thumb. you moved one of your hands to lock pinkies with him, then pressing the pads of your thumbs together to secure the promise.
“i don’t ever want to lose you again,” you said, moving your hands up so they rested at the nape of his neck, fingers playing with the curls that sat there. he leaned in to kiss you, and you met him in the middle. his lips were soft, the kiss tender. when you two pulled away from each other, he wrapped his arms around you, bringing you in for a hug. in that moment you decided that you were never going to let him go, not again.
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The Family Business AU: Part 1
Part 2
I'm finally getting around to writing something! This story is an AU where my main mcs, Gracie and Tessa Chiva, were raised in R their whole lives and are only just now, at the age of sixteen, starting to have doubts. I'm not sure how long the story will be, but I've been toying with the idea for a while now and I couldn't stop myself from writing it any longer. The basic background info is that the twins' maternal grandmother, Lorraine Black, founded R while her four children were still relatively young. In canon, her children weren't really on board, but in this AU all but one stayed with her. Clarissa, the twins' mother, never truly approved, but saw what happened to her brother and decided abandoning her family wasn't worth it. If you know my mcs, you'll know that while Gracie and Tessa are technically identical twins, Gracie has alternate coloring to her from a curse that happened in their first year (Tessa has dark brown hair and dull green eyes whilst Gracie has bright white hair and unnaturally bright green eyes, and is much paler). In this AU, that still occurred, however the curse was staged to give them a reason to go into the vaults as their brother never did, and she has no negative side effects from it. The 'Jacob' character has been renamed to Vance, just because I honestly don't like the name Jacob, Gracie and Merula are together, Tessa is single and newly the captain of the Slytherin quidditch team, Rowan is the prefect because she deserves it, and the two additional mcs in the story belong to @gcldensnitch and @weirdcursedvaultkid!
The Great Hall always felt so loud and bright on the first day of school. Even on the days the whole family was gathered together, their grandmother's dining hall was never as noisy as when the whole of Hogwarts was sitting eating dinner together. It made Gracie's head pound, and Tessa wasn't faring much better. If only their mother had listened to their pleas to drop out of school - but alas, Clarissa was firm in her belief that they needed to complete their education despite being next in line. It's what they deserved for asking the parent who had been a Ravenclaw during her own time at Hogwarts.
Of course, education aside, the twins really did need to stay in school. Them dropping out now would raise too many questions, especially with the two of them so invested in the Cursed Vaults. Besides, they would miss their friends. The friends that they'd been lying to since they met them. The friends that were now in terrible danger.
The twins had different thoughts about their lies. Tessa felt much more guilty about it, always having been the more empathetic twin. She especially felt guilty about lying to her best friend, Colette Belrose, whose older brother Jacob was someone Tessa saw rather frequently while Colette herself had no idea what he was up to. It reminded Tessa of how she had no idea where her own brother was, and if he was okay or not. He had run away from home directly after graduating and hadn't contacted his sisters at all. R had placed him high on the 'wanted' list. Seeing his name still there, not crossed out, was the only way Tessa and Gracie could have hope he was still alive.
Gracie was better able to justify her lies to herself. How could she continue to be trusted by her friends if they knew she was a member of the very group they were trying to take down? How would they react if they knew that she hadn't been cursed in her first year, but marked as the next leader? In order to protect the people Gracie cared about like Rowan and Merula, she needed them to trust her, and they never would if they found out about her lies now. It wasn't like she could tell them even if she wanted to; the secrecy oath she swore when she was eleven made that impossible. She suspected that was the only reason Vance hadn't told everyone before he ran away. You didn't break the oath by leaving. You broke the oath by dying.
This very oath, while necessary for R's security, was something that the twins were growing to despise. Lorraine, their grandmother, the founder and current leader of R, had laughed at them when they screamed and cried about Rakepick torturing Merula while the group was in the Portrait Vault the year before. Rakepick was just playing her part, Lorraine said. It didn't matter how close Gracie and Merula were, because in the end, Merula was an enemy to R and their mission, and would be treated as such. If Gracie wanted Merula safe from R's members, she'd have to convince Merula to become one.
This was the twins' goal this year. Between working on the final Cursed Vault (that the Hogwarts students knew of; the twins knew it was, in fact, the second-to-last), they were determined to convince their closest friends to join up with R for their own protection. How they would do that without being able to tell their friends about their family, they didn't know. But they had to try.
"Tessa!"
Tessa's head shot up as Colette sat down on the bench next to her and threw her arms around her. Colette had a smile on her face as she pulled back.
"Your hair is so long now!" Colette exclaimed. "I love it!"
Tessa smiled back weakly. "Thanks."
"Are you okay?"
"I'm just not used to the noise yet," Tessa responded truthfully. "It's not very loud back home."
Colette squeezed Tessa's shoulder in comfort. "You'll be used to it in no time."
Gracie watched the exchange and sighed. Rowan was a prefect, so she was off making sure the dorms were ready for the new students who would be coming in, and Merula was nowhere to be found. Merula had been off all summer. Having the Cruciatus curse cast on her had caused her to become even more determined than ever to prove herself as powerful, and it left their relationship wanting.
Gracie plugged her ears as the chatter around the hall grew even louder, feeling Tessa lean closer to her. The first years had just entered the Great Hall to be sorted. Hopefully Rowan would be here soon.
----------------
Dinner had been miserable, just as it always was during the first week or so. The twins never truly appreciated the quiet at home while they had it. Rowan had finally arrived just as the last first year was sorted, still catching her breath but beaming from a job well done.
"The Common Room is sparkling," she had told Gracie. "And I scented the candles with a faint hint of orange, just for you."
Rowan was so good. She cared about Gracie more than almost anyone else, and though she was nerdy, weird, and awkward, she was one of the most incredible people Gracie had ever met. Rowan was the one Gracie was most desperate to get on R's side. As much as she loved Merula, Rowan had been Gracie's friend from day one. Losing her would hurt the most, she was sure of it. Rowan had to be turned.
Tonight, though, Gracie had to find Merula, or else she'd likely stay out all night. Rowan said she had seen her out of the Training Grounds blasting the dummies to pieces, so that's where Gracie went after dinner was over.
The night sky was clear, and the air was nice and warm, a welcome change of scenery as Gracie let her stress wash away for just a moment. Staring at the stars always made Gracie feel less anxious. The stars didn't care what happened to her. She was nothing but a speck of dust in the universe, and nothing she ever did would matter. It was a comforting thought.
"Are you just going to stand there, Chiva?"
Merula was now standing next to her, looking at her with a cold expression.
"Hi," Gracie said softly. Every time she saw Merula she was caught off guard by how pretty she was, even when she was angry.
"What do you want?"
"You missed dinner."
"I wasn't hungry."
It was a bad lie. Gracie held out the plate of raspberry tart she had been able to sneak out, and Merula took it without a word.
"What were you doing?" Gracie asked.
"What do you think?" Merula jerked her head toward a group of dummies, two of which were still lying on the ground in pieces.
Gracie sighed and pushed her hair behind her ear. "This isn't healthy, love. I want to get back at Rakepick too, but you're running yourself ragged like this. We've barely spent time together recently."
At those words, Merula seemed to deflate just a little. She had another bite of tart before answering.
"I know."
They stood without talking while Merula finished her tart. She didn't say thank you, nor did Gracie expect her to. Merula just vanished the plate and crossed her arms.
An owl hooted in the distance. Gracie wondered if it was a school one or a wild one.
"Train with me," Merula said suddenly.
Gracie shook her head. "It's late. Come inside with me."
"Duel me once and we can go in."
"You're the Most Powerful Witch at Hogwarts," Gracie teased, enjoying the way Merula rolled her eyes even as they lit up. "You have nothing to prove to me."
"Just one?" Merula asked again.
And Gracie was never able to resist. "One."
----------------
"I've already been asked by three different people when I'm going to be holding tryouts," Tessa whined. "It's the first day back; can they not wait a single second?"
"Apparently not," Liz said, leaning back against her headrest. The two were sitting on the bed, catching up. Liz hadn't been able to visit for the second half of the summer as she had been on vacation in Canada, so they had a lot to talk about.
"I snuck out of the hall to visit everyone in the Reserve," Liz continued. "You need to come with me tomorrow so you can see how much bigger the thestrals are. Victoria says hi, I think. I still can't see her."
Tessa raised an eyebrow. "You say that like it's a bad thing."
"I want to see how beautiful she is! You keep saying she's the prettiest thestral you've ever seen but I don't have a point of reference."
"Take my word for it, Liz, she's gorgeous."
Liz frowned. "I wish seeing the death of a pet counted. It's like even magic itself thinks creatures are less than humans."
"But if seeing the death of a pet counted, Thestrals would never be able to live in peace because then nearly everyone would be able to see them," Tessa reasoned.
"I cannot believe Hogwarts uses them as carriage horses. Thestrals as carriage horses! What disrespectful prick came up with that?!"
Tessa glanced around the dorm as Liz carried on with her rant. Gracie wasn't back with Merula yet. Colette was talking with Rowan and Alex Vega, happy as could be, completely unaware that twenty feet away from her Tessa was trying to figure out how to recruit her to the very wizard cult her brother had abandoned his family to work for. And what about Alex? Would Tessa and Gracie try and get Alex too? Alex was in danger; she had gotten involved with the Vaults a few years ago and now spent a lot of time with Ben, someone who, at the end of last year, made quite an enemy of himself in the Portrait Vault. If only he had stayed a spineless coward, he might have been safe. It might be the only circumstance Tessa was displeased with someone's personal growth.
Ismelda was sitting by herself, skimming through this year's History of Magic textbook. Ismelda was probably the safest one in the room, having never really helped the Vault hunt or done anything that would anger R. She mostly just kept to herself. Ironically, Ismelda was probably the most likely person to be willing to join R.
Liz snapped her fingers in Tessa's face, making her jump.
"You look scared," Liz stated, blunt as ever. "It's okay, you know. Dumbledore knows now that Rakepick is evil. She'll have a hard time finding us to try and hurt us."
She was kind of close, Tessa thought, but that wasn't quite it. It wasn't like Liz could know Rakepick would never, under threat of death, ever hurt even a single hair on Tessa's head other than under strict orders for cover.
"Yeah, I know. But it doesn't feel right."
Liz elbowed her in a way that was probably meant to be encouraging. "We're a team. No one is going to hurt you on my watch."
That only made Tessa feel worse. Liz would never say those things if she knew who Tessa really was. Salazar, how was Tessa ever supposed to convince Liz to join R? Rakepick was in R; no one at Hogwarts would ever consider being on her side. Besides maybe Ismelda.
The door finally opened to reveal Gracie and Merula. Tessa watched her sister accept Alex's hug, looking just fine. How did Gracie do it? Did she really believe she could change her friends' minds, or was she just better at hiding her emotions than Tessa?
You're too sensitive. Leaders have to be able to step back from their emotions and look at a situation rationally. If you can't do that, Tessa, you can never be a leader.
She didn't want to be a leader; Gracie could do that. Tessa just wanted to be good enough to be worthy of being the leader. She wanted to stop being second best. She didn't want to be Tessa, Gracie's twin sister anymore. She wanted to be Tessa, her own person. It wasn't like her Quidditch skills would matter in a couple of years when she had to work for R full time. Maybe she could talk to Diego tomorrow; she needed to get back into her dueling training.
Merula stomped off to talk to Ismelda after having been convinced to hug Alex as well. Gracie spoke with Rowan for a moment before they both came to join Tessa and Liz, leaving Colette and Alex fawning over Colette's cat together.
"I beat her," Gracie told Rowan, then turned to address the whole group. "Merula made me duel her again."
"Isn't she ever going to get tired of getting her ass kicked by you?" Rowan joked.
"She won't stop bothering you until you let her win, you know," Liz told Gracie.
"She'll know I let her win and then she'll be even more mad."
Gracie looked over at Tessa, who had drawn into herself. Tessa felt the Legilimency link they shared open up.
You okay? Gracie asked.
I'm scared.
I know.
Gracie paused to laugh at something Liz said. Tessa attempted a chuckle. She didn't know what Liz had said.
We can do this, and if we can't, we can protect them. No one is going to get hurt. I promise.
You can't guarantee that.
"I'm tired," Tessa announced, closing the link and standing up.
Gracie stood and pulled Tessa into a tight hug.
"I love you," Gracie said.
"I love you too."
Tessa, having already changed into her nightgown some time ago, climbed into her bed and shut the curtains, ignoring the concerned looks from her dormmates. She'd feel better tomorrow, she told herself. She was just tired and it was making her worse. That was all. It wasn't like she had to turn everyone by the weekend; the first proper "attack" Lorraine had planned was over a month away, and it was less of an attack than a "scare the kids" bit. They'd be fine. She had plenty of time.
"Did something happen at home?" Liz asked quietly.
What hadn't? It was a better question, but no one knew that.
"Our grandfather is sick," Gracie lied, hoping she'd remember to tell Tessa before someone said something tomorrow. "He'll probably be fine, but he's old, you know? He was still in pretty bad shape when we left."
Rowan made an odd face, but it was gone before Gracie could even process that it happened.
"I'm sure he'll be okay," she said.
"Yeah, he's made it through dragon pox, he can handle this," Liz nodded, yawning. "I might go to bed too."
"Yeah, it's late," Gracie agreed. "I still have to get changed though."
Rowan perked up. "You'll like what I did in the bathroom. Pretty tough bit of magic, but I think it was worth it."
"Really now?"
"Mhm. Here," Rowan said, holding out Gracie's toiletry bag before she could even open her trunk. "I got it out for you, and your nightgown is hanging above the heating stone so it'll be warm."
Gracie felt another surge of guilt wash through her. "You're the best."
Rowan grinned. "Come on, I want to see your reaction!"
What Rowan had done in the bathroom was charm the mirrors to look like the surface of a calm lake. When Gracie put her hand out to touch it, it rippled.
"This is so cool!" Gracie exclaimed, momentarily forgetting her troubles.
"I know! And when you want it to be solid so you can see perfectly, you just tap it with your wand and say sile, like so."
Rowan tapped her wand against the mirror to demonstrate. The water-like surface stilled and became clear as a regular mirror, as if it had never moved.
"Libera."
Another tap, and the mirror once more began to flow gently.
Gracie ruffled Rowan's hair, earning a smack to her wrist. "How long did that take you?"
"The first one took a good ten minutes," Rowan admitted, smoothing her hair back down. "After I got it it was easy to do the others."
"You did this in all the rooms?"
"Of course I did!"
"You really are incredible."
Rowan beamed. "Thanks, Gracie. You want me to wait up for you?"
Gracie shook her head. "It's okay, I have to wait for Merula anyway."
"Ooooh, you're gonna cuddle?" Rowan taunted.
"Oh, shut up!" Gracie laughed.
"You never cuddle with me."
"Did you want to cuddle?"
"Not really," Rowan conceded. "But maybe if you held my hand once in a while I'd feel better."
"Get out."
"Night!"
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Both twins had a nightmare that night, a dream full of blood and tears that made them wake up with a scream.
#hogwarts mystery#my writing#the family business au#gracie chiva#tessa chiva#man I hope this gets a few reads at least skskg
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Mother-in-law (Part 4)
Hey everyone! Here's (probably) the last part of this multi-chapter. I think about adding a fifth part, playing a little in the future, but I don't know yet. Tell me what you think.
Also thank you again to @angry-slytherin for beta reading.
For now, hope you like it! Enjoy!
-
...
"So answer my question, Princess. Why are you still hanging out with my family?" The atmosphere is way lighter now. They are laughing together, while Alex is still holding Jo's hands under his.
"Well four weeks after you left I found out that I was pregnant. I called you but you didn't pick up like all the other times before and the next number under your's was your moms. I saw her name in my contact list and just called her. I hadn't heard from you in four weeks and I wanted to know what was going on. But she told me that you had never been there. We talked, I cried, she comforted me and eventually I told her that I was pregnant. She was so happy and she wanted them in her life. And I wanted her in their lives; I wanted them to have a grandma and an aunt and uncles and cousins by blood. Even though I knew that they would have aunts and uncles at the hospital, I wanted them to have a real family. So I stayed in contact with your mom. I call her at least once a month and Amber too. Amber and I actually became really good friends, she was there when the twins were born-"
"When's their birthday?" Alex interrupts her with that question.
She grins at him. "Believe it or not but it's the 3rd of July." Jo's nodding softly while looking into his eyes, which look at her in disbelief but immediately soften.
"Wow. That's-"
"The day we met for the first time." She says softly and smiles.
"Wow, the universe is freaking cruel." He's looking at her with warm eyes.
"Trust me I cursed the world all the way to the OR. I actually asked Carina DeLuca if they could wait until midnight, but nope. Our babies got born on our anniversary." She replies with a laugh.
"I can imagine that. You know what I can't imagine. My sister in scrubs, trying to calm you down in the OR."
He's laughing too.
"She was anything but calm. I had to calm her down, while Carina tried to calm both of us down. Their birth was a mess." Jo's closing her eyes for a second, replaying the day of her babies birth.
"Tell me more about them." Alex is desperate to know more about his kids. He always wondered what his and Jo's kids would have been like and now that those kids really exist he wants to know everything.
"Alright, so- they are obviously twins. Emery is two and a half minutes older than Parker, her second name is actually Helen, after your mom, because she really was my rock during my pregnancy and because I knew that you wanted your daughter to have her grandma's name. Parkers second name is Joseph, after me, kind of. They were almost a month too early so they stayed in the NICU for a month and a half. They were really easy babies, thank God." Jo grinnes remembering her once tiny babies. "Their first word was actually 'Dada', which I was pretty pissed about. They love Pizza and their favorite sweets are donuts, but only the powdered sugar one. Parkers favorite color is green, Emery's is purple. Ahm- Parker wants to be either a bone surgeon or a ghost hunter, he's not quite sure yet. Emery wants to be a babies surgeon but only if she's allowed to wear her Tinkerbell wings over her lab coat. They are both really ambitious but they got the double dose of stubbornness." Alex has to laugh at that comment.
"They invented a new holiday 'Hallochristmas', which means they run around in costumes from Halloween until Christmas. If I hadn't talked them out of it they would still wear them. Their favorite bed time stories are when I tell them about cool surgeries or when I tell them about you." She whispers those last words, but Alex hears her clearly. He can't say anything because he's blown away and love struck. They are so perfect.
"Now tell me about your twins." Jo's trying to change the subject, while she's playing with his hand, which is now between her hands.
"Ok. They are eight now. They also both want to become doctors. They love our waffle sundays. They love animals, which we had way to many on that stupid farm. They are really good at school, they have amazing grades. Eli plays football and the trumpet. Alexis dances and plays the violin. And I have full custody for them but they visit Izzie once a month."
"What?" Jo didn't expect this kind of news.
"Yeah, ahm after Izzie tried to change every little thing about me I called it quit. We were always arguing so I moved out. I was still there every day, I just slept somewhere else. After a month or so Izzie got a new boyfriend. They went really fast and got married after only three months of knowing each other. I told her that I thought that they were moving way to fast but she wouldn't listen. One day I got a letter that her husband wants to adopt the twins and I had to give up my half of custody. I fought them in court and got full custody for the twins."
"Wow, what a bitch." This makes Alex laugh and Jo immediately gets infected by his laugh. But their laughter gets interrupt by someone opening the front door. A little head with curly, light brown hair pops out.
"Mommy, grandma told me to come get you because the food is ready."
Alex takes the blanket of them and offers Jo his hand to helps her up. Silently they walk towards the door where Emery is still waiting. Her daughter is about to run back to the kitchen when Jo calls after her.
"Emy wait a minute. I want you to meet someone."
While Jo gets rid of her coat and boots, Alex closes the door and also puts his jacket and shoes aside. Emery is watching the two adults, while she waits.
"Come here, Princess." She scoops her daughter up in her arms and walks closer to Alex.
"Emy, this is your daddy Alex." Jo introduces her daughter to Alex.
"Really?" The eyes of the three year old grow big, while she looks from her mother to Alex and back.
"Yes." Jo's nodding with a big smile.
"Can I hug you?" The little girl askes shyly. Alex answers with a big smile.
"Of course." He's taking her from Jo's arms into his and holds her close to his body. Emery puts her little arms around Alex's neck and kisses him on the cheek.
"I love you, daddy." She lays her head down on his shoulder and squeezes him a little tighter. The smile on Alex's face says it all. He couldn't be more happy right now. Jo watches them with the biggest smile on her face, also getting a little teary.
With his daughter still in his arms the three walk into the kitchen where everyone is already sitting at the big table. Alex and Jo take their seats and Emery lets go of her daddy's neck and takes the seat right next to him.
After they ate and talked, they make their way to the living room to finally open the presents. All of the kids are sitting on floor, while the adults are on the couches.
Jo is sitting next to Alex with a sleeping baby Evie on her chest. His right arm resting behind her on the couch. They are watching their kids playing together and laughing. Alex turns his view to the beautiful woman beside him and leans closer to her ear.
"Thank you for the best Christmas present I could have ever wished for."
Jo's looking confused at him, not quite understanding.
"Thank you for being here and thank you for those two amazing kids." She's answering with a smile and puts her head on his shoulder, while she keeps watching their playing kids.
"I think about moving back to Seattle. A few weeks ago Bailey called and made me a really good job offer and I consider taking it. Well- to be honest I know I will take it. Because the second I saw you made me realize what I want-" He puts a loose curl behind Jo's ear but before he can continue, she interrupts him.
"Alex, no. I can't do this, not with them." She grabs his hand out of her face and looks at him.
"I'm not only responsible for my own heart now but for their little hearts too and I can't let you break their hearts. I can't let you back into our life just like that. There are still things we have to talk about, so let's- let's start with being friends again, ok?"
"I promise you, I will do anything to not break your or their hearts. I've learned out of my mistakes. I won't repeat them. But I want to be in their lives. I want to be their dad and I want you. And I will do anything to get your trust back." He's talking calmly and he means every word.
"Let's start with hanging out and drinking beer again. And then we see what the future holds." She's smiling at him, while he's smiling back.
#Jolex#jolex#jolex fanfic#jo x alex#jo karev#jo wilson#alex karev#greys#grey's#grey's anatomy#grey's fanfic#fan4196#fanfiction
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MAD MOXXI
[ AGE 15. ] Ellie born.
[ AGE 18. ] Married Jimbo Hodunk.
[ AGE 19. ] Scooter born.
[ AGE 21. ] Unnamed son one born.
[ AGE 22. ] Unnamed son two born.
[ AGE 25. ] Unnamed son one died in accident.
[ AGE 30. ] Left Hodunk Clan.
[ AGE 31. ] Married Mr. Shank.
[ AGE 31. ] Divorced Mr. Shank.
[ AGE 34. ] Married Marcus Kincaid.
[ AGE 36. ] Divorced Marcus Kincaid.
[ AGE 36. ] Created Underdome.
[ AGE 36. ] Opened Moxxi’s Red Light.
[ AGE 36. ] Began dating Handsome Jack.
[ AGE 37. ] Opened Up Over Bar.
[ AGE 38. ] Left Handsome Jack.
[ AGE 38. ] Underdome Destroyed.
[ AGE 38. ] Opened Moxxxi’s on Sanctuary.
[ AGE 40. ] Forced off of Sanctuary.
[ AGE 40. ] Opens Moxxxi’s on Sanctuary III.
[ AGE 47. ] Raids the Handsome Jackpot
[ AGE 47. ] Opens Moxxxi’s Big Score.
Mad Moxxi has a secret that only the best vault hunters know, that only her husbands are privy to, that only her lovers suspect…
Hodunk Years
Moxxi was born a part of the Hodunk clan. She was born and raised in The Dust and there's some part of her that believes that's where she'll go when she dies because all things go to dust in the end, don't they? The thought of it truly disgusts her. She left the place behind and would prefer it stay in her past.
At the age of 15, Moxxi found herself pregnant after a whirlwind weekend with a member of the Zaford clan. It was at this point that Jimbo Hodunk took her under his wing and decided to raise Ellie as his own in an effort to keep Moxxi part of the clan. By the time the two were 18, they decided that marriage was in their cards and Moxxi took up well with him. Within a year, she gave birth to a boy who was quickly named Scooter and Moxxi found herself thankful that he looked enough like his older sister that Ellie could truly be passed as a Hodunk daughter. By the time she was 22, Moxxi had two more children, both sons, with Jimbo Hodunk. However, after the death of her third born in an accident at the Hodunk Speedway at the age of four, she swore off more children, unable to handle the idea of losing another.
On her 30th birthday, Jimbo pulled her aside and reminded her that he knew her secret, that he know she had betrayed the clan with a member of the Zaford's fifteen years before. He had waited fifteen years to make sure she would pay for her transgressions, fifteen years to inform her that her only daughter would be branded as the clan wife. It was then that Moxxi knew it was time to get the fuck out of dodge with her kids. She fled with Ellie and Scooter in tow, her youngest son begging to be left behind and, as much as she wanted him to come with her, she couldn't risk a screaming child when she was trying to sneak out in the middle of the night.
Shotgun Weddings
She found herself under the protection of a man named David Shank. Once again mistaking care and convenience for love, Moxxi quickly married him and found herself... miserable with a man who was far from interested in women. She became a trophy, a cover, and was often pushed to the side in favor of a man. For a while, this was fine. It gave her time to take care of her children and heal herself, to build walls she became known for later in her life. But it was when she found her husband using their marital bed for one of his affairs that she drew the line. It wasn't that his preference bothered her, it was the fact that he had lied to her, was lying to himself everytime she was introduced as the love of his life. In an effort to help him find himself, Moxxi left with a broken heart and the hope that he would learn to be comfortable in his own skin with whomever he wanted. Even after hiring a Vault Hunter to kill him because of his capture of Athena, Moxxi mourned the loss, wishing things could have been different.
It wasn't long before she found her way to New Haven, a sanctuary of sorts. Somewhere she could hide out and know the Hodunks would never get to her. She could let her kids thrive, both of them showing a talent for engineering like good old mom. She could be proud and could rewrite her own story.
New Haven became home. Somewhere she could become Mad Moxxi, a woman sure of herself, confident, and beautiful. She could tuck away all traces of the Hodunk clan except for the heart tattooed onto her chest and even that began to take up a new meaning. She even found love. Or something close to it. Marcus Kincaid was an arm's dealer... good with his hands and good with numbers. He seemed ideal. And for a while, he was. She helped him build his weapon's empire, helped him see how to make sure he was underestimated so that he always had the upper hand. She took care of him and he returned the favor.
But the third time wasn't the charm and they went their separate ways when she realized she would always come second to his money. She could handle being second to a business, but being second to money... something that could be put away and hid in a safe. She refused to let that be put ahead of her. So she left and pursued her own business... determined to make that her new husband.
Red Light & The Underdome
Being married to an arm's dealer in the heart of pandora meant that Moxxi got a taste for watching people tear each other apart. And what better way to satiate that thirst than opening an arena? And open an arena she did. Moxxi's Underdome would become the most well known arena in all of Pandora. People came from far and wide to compete and complete the Underdome challenges. Though, only one Pandoran is known to have done so. A vault hunter by the name of Mordecai who earned her affections in doing so. A relationship that would be short lived, but fondly remembered.
In line with the Underdome, Moxxi opened her first bar, Moxxi's Red Light. It was based in burlesque glamor and became a popular place for those traveling through the Fathoms. She was proud of her bar. Proud of what it had the potential to be. And then she decided to hide an ex Lance Assassin from her ex husband and his lovely band of bandits. She should have known that they would come for Athena, that they wouldn't care about the state of her bar. But it didn't change the absolute heartbreak caused by seeing her bar in complete disarray and littered with the bodies and blood of bandits.
Handsome Jack
It was the Underdome that brought Handsome Jack into her life. A low level Hyperion programmer, he was attractive, funny, and everything else she had been missing in previous relationships. Things had been good in the beginning. He had been fun and interested in everything she was doing. Hell, he had helped her find a place for a new bar. He seemed to be what she'd been looking for ever since leaving the Hodunks, but she could feel something was off about him. Something she couldn't quite put her finger on. He wanted more than Pandora had to offer, more than his position had to offer, and seemingly more than she had to offer.
And still she believed in his love for her.
She maintained her Underdome and her Underdome only for the first year of their relationship. But her heart still belonged to the stories told in bars. So in the midst of the whirlwind of her life, she opened the Up Over Bar in Concordia with support from Jack. While it was her pride, her Underdome remained her joy. But she wasn't sure she could function without either of them. Most of her time was still spent in the Underdome, announcing fights and providing as much commentary as possible, relishing the attention from the crowd.
It was the love of her Underdome that had her blinded to the man Jack was becoming for so long. He wasn't the man she had fallen in love with. He had become cold, distant, almost scary. She always trusted her gut, something she had always kept in the back of her mind. And something told her to run. To get as far away as she could before there was no turning back. And in return? Jack destroyed her joy... blowing up the Underdome in revenge for her leaving.
Sanctuary and Beyond
Recognizing the danger that Handsome Jack presented, she shut the doors of the Up Over Bar and fled to Sanctuary, reconnecting with the Crimson Raiders, Marcus, and her children. Her relationship with Jack was something that few discussed, something that left a stain on her heart and built her walls higher than before. She dumped herself into building Moxxxi's, a bar that would become the central gathering area in Sanctuary. She poured everything she had into it, making it somewhere to be proud of. She was going to make it work.
For two years, Moxxxi's ran successfully. Between Crimson Raiders and Vault Hunters and refugees who had fallen victim to Jack, there was no shortage of business, no shortage of customers. And then Colonel Hector and his band of Dahl soldiers showed up to take a vault key and Sanctuary. At least this time she had the clothes on her back and friends around her which left her able to rebuild even after Sanctuary was destroyed in the following fight.
Sanctuary had truly become home. A real home. So when Lillith asked her to join them as they hunted new vaults, tried to make sense of the map the key had given them, she had agreed under the condition that she could run the ship's bar. She helped turn Sanctuary III into a place that people didn't mind living despite the fact that it was forced, that there was no choice, and that it was the only place they were all safe. But she tried. She tried to make them feel like there was still hospitality left in the universe that they were floating through.
She became the ship mom in a way, taking in those who had been left without a home, those who had fled clans and corporations, letting them all tell their stories at her bar while she listened and poured what little she had for them to drink.
But once things settled down, once the Calypso twins were dead and gone, Moxxi turned her sights to a prize that had only seemed a dream. The Handsome Jackpot, a casino that Jack had originally built for her. A casino that used her designs. A casino that took up an entire damn space station and she wanted it back. She wanted to finally get over him, finally let go of everything she had held for him. And that casino was the way to do it. And what Moxxi wants? Moxxi gets.
Moxxi now splits her time between the newly acquired Moxxxi's Big Score and Sanctuary.
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9th December
Time to be brave and make good on the description that I might write fic occasionally so here’s my first attempt at writing anything for SKAM. Ideally I would have got this out on the right day but I only got inspired to write after rewatching *that* episode.
It’s 9th December 2020 and Isak has somewhere he needs to be.
If you prefer to read on AO3 you can do so here
*****
"Isak, where are you going?"
"Nowhere."
Isak pauses in the act of grabbing his jacket, guilt written clear across his face and calling him a liar. The fact he's already got his shoes on doesn't help his case.
"Isak?" There's a single raised eyebrow from Even where he's leaning against the doorframe to the lounge, watching as Isak squirms uncomfortably.
"I'm just heading out. Okay?" Isak responds with twin raised eyebrows of his own and a glare of teenage rebellion that isn't often seen now that he's no longer a teenager.
"Jonas?"
Isak shrugs a non-answer, throws a jacket on over his hoodie, pulls the hood up over his snapback and heads out into the grim night.
Even watches the apartment door click closed then rolls off his own doorframe and heads back into the lounge. He's used to Isak's moods, and after 4 years together he can read them pretty well, but there's something about Isak's demeanor tonight that doesn't sit right. Pulling out his phone he quickly scrolls through the contacts to J and starts tapping out a message.
Til Jonas:
Is everything okay with Isak?
The typing bubbles appear almost immediately and he sits, staring at the screen.
Fra Jonas:
You'll have to ask him yourself
The message does nothing to quell the misgivings Even has. There had been nothing to suggest that things had been anything but fine, if anything Isak had been in good spirits looking forward to spending Christmas in their new apartment. The move to a place that actually had a separate bedroom and lounge meant the chance to have a proper Christmas tree and Isak has displayed almost childlike glee at the prospect of picking out new decorations. They were settled. Happy.
At least everything had seemed okay until today. Isak had been fine over breakfast but this evening had been a different story, his boyfriend had been distracted and distant, preoccupied with something weighing heavy on his mind.
It's a short scroll up from J to I and this time Even hits the dial button. He's not entirely surprised when the call gets rejected after two rings, shunting him through to the electronic tones of voicemail. He doesn't bother leaving a message. All he can do is sit and wait and hope that Isak comes back to him.
***
It’s not really a surprise when the phone in his pocket starts vibrating, the ringtone cutting through the night air. Isak isn’t too sure why he couldn’t tell Even where he was headed, except Even probably would have insisted on coming too and for some reason Isak knows he needs to make this pilgrimage alone. He gives the screen a cursory glance to confirm it’s Even before hitting the icon to reject the call. The lock screen flashes back up and his steps quicken when he sees the time, their new apartment is closer to Nissen than the old one but he’s still going to be cutting it fine. Tonight, just like four years ago, it’s vitally important he makes it in time.
His breath in making clouds in the freezing air and he’s running, dodging across roads and skittering round corners until he’s there. The area looks the same as ever, the bench framed by the bush behind it, perhaps a little more paint has flaked away from the weathered planks but essentially it’s the same. This time there is no feeling of dread at seeing the seat empty, no stomach plunging heart stopping moment of fear that he had been too late, instead it’s a relief that he doesn’t have to share this moment with anyone.
He jumps up to perch on the back, the same way Even had been sitting that night during the kosagruppa meeting. He’s come a long way since that night. So much has changed since that shared smoke that got interrupted by Emma. There have been good times and bad but for some reason this bench with it’s scuffed yellow paint has become an anchor point for him.
He pulls out his phone and checks the time. 21:20. There’s just time grab the crumpled envelope out of his other pocket, the one he knows Jonas is responsible for despite the only writing on it being Isak, for ikveld, he would recognise that untidy scrawl anywhere and anyway, who else but Jonas would think of it. The envelope is empty apart from a single rolled joint. He doesn’t smoke much now, the responsibilities of life mean that there are much more pressing uses for his and Even’s limited funds, a bigger apartment for starters, and it doesn’t seem fair to smoke when Even has given it up completely. He makes a mental note to thank Jonas who still seems to know him better than he knows himself sometimes.
There’s the spark of a lighter and then he’s drawing in the first breath as the clock ticks over to 21:21.
It’s their time. It’s his time. 21:21 has punctuated his life and so he settles down to smoke and think, the same as he has done on this night for the last three years and will probably continue to do.
There’s a ritual now and he finds himself going through the motions, pulling out his phone as the first buzz of weed hits his system and scrolling through the photos. It’s a different phone to the one he had 4 years ago but he has a screengrab. The text message fills the screen and he reads through the words even though he knows them by heart. As he reads he can almost see the two figures meeting in front of the bench, his past self rushing in from the street to be confronted by devastating loneliness until Even appears like a fallen angel through the door that is currently locked and in darkness,
The joint burns down as he replays the scene in his mind’s eye. Their night of salvation. The night he chose, once and for all, to leave behind the baggage of the past, to leave behind his parents. The night he chose Even, fragile and broken as he was. But Even wasn’t the only broken one. 9th December was the night he himself became whole again.
Only when the last stub has been ground out against the planks that have witnessed so much does he leave the silent square and turn his steps for home.
***
The sound of the key in the lock startles Even out of his brooding. He hadn’t expected Isak back so soon, hadn’t even been sure if he would return at all that night, so it was with some relief that he turned to watch as Isak sidled in through the door, beads moisture glittering on the curls that have escaped his hood. He knows better than to crowd Isak when something is wrong, knows that if his boyfriend needed his comfort he would seek it out as he so often had, so however much he yearns to reach out and crush Isak against him instead he gives Isak space to toe off his shoes and rehang his jacket. It takes a lot of willpower to stay on the couch but somehow he manages it.
Isak appears in the lounge a moment later and there’s serenity about him that hadn’t been there earlier. He flops down on the couch and drags Even’s arm around him, settling himself down comfortably. Even uses his free hand to throw Isak’s snapback into a corner so he can press a kiss to the top of that bonde head pressed against him. It’s as though the entire last hour hasn’t happened except the Isak of an hour ago was decidedly more grumpy.
“So, are you going to tell me what all that was about?”
Isak nestles in deeper, gently entwining his fingers with Even’s. He knows he probably owes Even a reason for his abrupt departure but he’s not meant to be the sentimental one in this relationship. Even is the artist that ascribes meaning and significance to things, he’s the counterbalance, the one that rolls his eyes at traditions. The role reversal makes him feel awkward.
His first year of observance had been wholly coincidental. Mostly coincidental. Okay, he hadn’t really needed to take the route past Nissen on the way to the party but it wasn’t that far out of his way and so he’d found himself at the bench, a bag of beers in one hand and a pouch of weed in his pocket at just the right time to pause and take a moment out of his life to reflect on when things had changed. Of course afterwards he’d had to explain to Jonas what had taken him so long which was why he knew about the whole thing. Even hadn’t been at the party, had pulled a late shift at work, and for some reason best known to himself Isak had never mentioned his visit to the bench.
The following two occasions Even had been busy too, 2018 had been another work shift, 2019 he had been setting up for an exhibition for part of his university course. On both occasions Isak had made use of time alone to bend his steps towards Nissen and reflect on the past year and everything Even meant to him.
This year should have been no different. A quiet moment to himself with just the ghosts of the past for company. Except this year Even had been home and now he was worried, Isak could feel the tension in Even’s body, the frame moulded round his not quite so soft and yielding as usual.
“You’ve been smoking.” The tone isn’t quite accusatory but there is bluntness with a slight edge of disappointment.
“Jonas gave it to me.”
“You’ve been with Jonas?”
“No.” And he pulls the now empty envelope from his pocket in answer to the questions he knows are coming, the words ‘for tonight’ clearly visible. “He sent it earlier.”
“But why?”
And this is the moment Isak knows he has to choose. The choice between baring his soul or brushing the moment aside because as much as he might try and claim he doesn’t have a sentimental bone in his body the truth is that moment is etched into him profoundly. And because this is Even he chooses the truth.
“It’s 9th December.”
There’s a slight shift of confusion and that's perhaps not a surprise, at the time Even had been in the riding the peaks and troughs of the vicious cycle of mania and while he might be able to place the events at some time in mid-December, the 9th is unlikely to spring to mind specifically.
“The night of the Christmas concert,” Isak elaborates slightly.
“The last time you saw your parents,” it’s little more than a whisper as the realisation of what night this is hits Even. 9th December 2016 had been the last physical interaction Isak had had with the people who used to be his family, the only contact afterwards had been one very explosive phone call and the occasional money transfer until even that had fizzled out. It’s enough to make Isak irate.
“Nei!” he exclaims as he twists towards Even, the vehement anger on his face at the mention of his parents enough to scare off lesser men than Even Bech Næsheim. “This is nothing to do with them and they do not get to be a part of this,” his voice softens before he continues, “it’s the night I realised I couldn’t bear to lose you.” A whisper, “it’s the night I thought I had lost you. Forever.”
“I'm sorry I scared you.” Even now understands why Isak had disappeared even if he isn't certain what he has been doing to mark the occasion. For his own part he's not quite sure what would have happened if Isak hadn't arrived that night and he had been left to face his demons alone. He's glad he never had to find out.
"It wasn't your fault. But every year since…" he pauses and takes a deep breath, "every year since I've gone back to our bench. It's hard to explain why but it's kinda grounding. Makes me grateful for everything I've got. For us. But I wasn't ready to share that moment. It had to be just me. Alone."
"Oh Isak." Even pulls him in closer, burying his nose in blonde curls. "Du er ikke alene."
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Can’t Fall in Love Tonight (3/3)
Description: Chapter 3 of a modern Zoyalai political AU. Nikolai is running for office and Zoya is has been his right-hand woman since University. Feelings are finally realized and Zoyalai banter.
A/N: This is chapter 3 (the final chapter) of Can’t Fall in Love Tonight! I hope you enjoy and the rest of the fic is under the cut! My ask is open if you ever want to send prompts or questions!
Ao3: Can’t Fall in Love Tonight
“Could we— I just need a moment,” Nikolai said quietly, he felt strange, a little lightheaded, anxious and maybe panicked. Zoya looked at him, picking up on his frown, and in that moment he saw that she understood. She shot out of her seat, heading for the front of the room, commanding everyone’s attention with the authority of a general.
“Right,” she snapped, clapping her hands together, “everyone clear out.” She was met with a sea of disbelieving faces, they’d all expected that the worst of the night was over and that they could simply sit and watch the results. “Did I not make myself clear?” she enunciated slowly, “everyone get back to work. We haven’t won yet, there’s no use in sitting around with your mouths open like a group of guppies when there’s still important work to be done. You can watch the results roll in from your stations, why do you think every wall in this office has a tv screen? Now get back to it!”
Nikolai felt a rush of gratitude for Zoya as everyone started to trail out of the room, looking tired, but buzzing with anticipation for the results. He wished he could have as much faith as them, but he was worried. In the midst of all his negativity, something rather rare for him, he felt nervous too. Every time he looked at Zoya, he couldn’t help but feel nervous. Something had shifted between the two of them these past few weeks, it felt like something had been lying dormant for so long and had chosen now to make itself known. Every moment between them felt charged,
When the room had cleared out, Zoya made her way to the door as well, about to turn the knob when he spoke, “...Zoya.” She knew he would not ask, it wasn’t in his nature, but she also knew that he wanted her to stay. And so she would. She poured two mugs of coffee and sat beside him, fighting to ignore the jolt she felt when he took the mug from her, fingers barely brushing hers. They sat in silence as the tv displayed new results every few minutes, Nikolai’s fingers clenching and unclenching around his drink. She couldn’t ask him if he was okay, he would resent that she asked, believing that she saw him as being weak, but she also knew he couldn’t sit like this for the next hour. She furrowed her brow, unsure about what she could do.
Nikolai felt his heart beating in his throat, his tie was too tight, his jacket was too hot, his mind was racing too fast. The decaf coffee Zoya had handed him had done nothing but give him another thing to worry about, was it actually decaf? The way his heart was pounding, it didn’t feel like it. He was usually composed, calm, in charge of a situation or on his way to getting everything under control, but in this moment, he was anything but. He knew that losing was not the end of the world, that he had a good chance, but more than his personal defeat, he was worried for what it meant to his friends, and the people he promised to help. If his opponent won, the Darkling would be pulling the strings, using Demidov as a puppet to do his bidding, and almost all of his policies were the opposite of what Nikolai believed in, what he fought for. Not only that but he could see the disappointment on his friends’ faces, they loathed the Darkling, and this had been a way for them to finally beat him in a meaningful way. And none of that would happen if he lost. He knew he could do what was needed, he just hoped other people voted like they knew it too.
There was another aspect about losing that worried him, what would happen after. He needed to win this position so that he would have the adequate experience for the next, and if he lost he would have to run again in four years. Even if he went back to practicing law, he knew his team wouldn’t be working alongside him. Genya was talented and highly sought-after, she and David would have no issue finding work, same with the twins. And then there was Zoya, whose whole job was to manage political campaigns, and she had made amendments to her title so that she could be Nikolai’s chief of staff, something she would never consider doing for anyone else. He was beyond lucky to have her by his side, but if he lost, he knew she had been getting calls from senators, international dignitaries, hoping that she would join their campaigns. If he couldn’t pull this off, he might not see her again, not for a few years at least, and at this point in their lives, in two years Zoya might be married and living in London while running some big campaign on the other side of the world.
Looking at her, her eyebrows furrowed, head resting on her hand, he decided her absence would haunt him the most. He’d come to spend the last few years relying on her in his work, in his daily life, as the voice in the back of his head. He didn’t want to know what it would mean to achieve the things he wanted so desperately without her next to him to celebrate with. Maybe it was the tired, scared part of him that acted next, tired of being alone, shutting out feelings he knew he possessed, however deep he tried to hide them.
Setting his coffee down, he reached out tentatively, before realizing that hesitant behavior wouldn’t be appreciated, instead moving confidently, seizing her hand in his own. She gave him a look that not even he could read, maybe some worry, and surprise. He made to pull back, but she squeezed his fingers tightly, sliding just a little bit closer to him, enough that he could smell the wildflower perfume she wore on special occasions drift over. For once he didn’t want to speak, worried it would break the fragility of the moment, so they sat in silence, hand in hand until the projected results rolled in nearly an hour later.
Zoya let out a shriek, jumping out of her seat, her hands flying up to her face in shock. “Nikolai,” Zoya said, her blue eyes brilliant with excitement, “Nikolai, you did it.” Her hands slid up to cup his face, her palms on his cheeks, “Nikolai, you won!”
Nikolai brought his own hands up resting them on top of hers, “Zoya, we did it. We did it.” She was beaming at him, he’d never seen her more elated, and he found himself grinning too, her smile was contagious.
“We did it, we bested him, we showed them all, we did it,” Zoya repeated, her head spinning. She had to repeat it or else she was afraid it wouldn’t be true. She let out a dazed laugh, letting her hands slide down from Nikolai’s face to his shirt, clenching the material. She let her forehead fall to his chest, letting her head catch up with everything that had just happened. They’d won, against all odds, they’d won. She felt his arms wrap around her, and they stayed like that, embracing for a blissful moment before Zoya remembered herself. ‘One. Two. Three.’ she counted before she started to untangle herself from him. He must have been counting as well, as he pulled away at the same time.
“Right, well.”
“Zoya I—”
“Nikolai! You did it!” Genya hollered bursting into the room, her red hair a banner streaking behind her as she launched herself at him. He stumbled back as the rest of his friends streamed into the room, David quietly closing the door behind them. The next little while was filled with them embracing, celebrating, and Nikolai promising that they could all get drunk after he gave his victory speech. Zoya slipped out of the room as they all celebrated, dropping off small thank-you gifts they’d spent the night before putting together for all the staff because none of them could sleep. She got surprised looks from some of them, and attempts for hugs from others, and she nearly laughed. Despite what everyone thought, she was not heartless, and she did want to thank them for their competency, even if they chose not to utilize it at times. When she finished, she grabbed Nikolai’s speech from her office and made her way back to her friends. He almost always wrote his speeches on his own, asking them to review them, but three nights ago he’d pulled her aside and asked her to write one from scratch for him. Well, technically two, a victory and a concession speech. Everyone broke apart as Zoya came back in, heading to the ballroom where Nikolai would be making his victory speech. They trailed far behind the rest of them, as Nikolai read through what she’d written for him.
“ ‘While my good looks may have helped a bit, I know my team was instrumental to my success, even if they didn’t approve of my runway dreams and of me modelling on the August cover of Vogue.’ I like this,” he chuckled, absentmindedly running his thumb over his lip. “And this part here, ‘as I like to say, we hope or we falter,’ very true Nazyalensky.”
Zoya flashed him a quick nod, trying to distract herself from his stupid mouth. She found herself doing it more and more often since that night in his apartment, distracting herself from the way the light caught off his golden hair, the way he smiled when he saw a friend no matter how tired he was, the way his fingers brushed his lips when he found something amusing. Everything he did was infuriating beyond belief and sent burning waves of irritation through her— or at least she claimed it was irritation. She was glad that the election was over, at least the next few weeks wouldn’t be as stressful, and she could stop her mind from crumbling to the pressure and doing something as stupid as she had almost done that night. She chose to ignore what had just happened while they were waiting for the results, alone in that room together. She would have done it for any of her clients— no she wouldn’t have. She would have done the same for her friends— although maybe without the hand-holding. ‘Yes’ she said to herself. She would have done the same for the others, there was nothing special about that moment. She tried to convince herself that she was right, but she knew otherwise. Damn him.
Nikolai paused outside the backstage door, his mind racing. He was still jittery from his win, even more so now that he was about to face a crowd of supporters and several news cameras. David was giving the speech that would introduce Nikolai to the stage, as Nikolai turned to face Zoya, “ After this,” he gestured to the stage door, “before we go to the victory party, can I read my concession speech? I want to know what it said.”
Zoya hesitated, her nerves buzzing. What she had done had been a classic Nikolai move, which meant that he might not be a fan, it wasn’t what he expected of her. But he wanted an answer and so he’d get one. “I didn’t write one,” she said sharply, looking up at him through her lashes. “I didn’t think you’d need one.”
Nikolai felt a rush of gratitude at her words. Ever-practical, the realist between them, Zoya, believed in him to this extent? Yes. She believed in him more than anyone else ever had, more than his flightly mother and inane father ever had. She’d stuck by him through the ridiculousness of this election, the madness of the last seven years. He let his head reel at that fact while he let his heart make the first move, grabbing her face in his hands, pausing for a split second and pressing a swift kiss to her mouth. She froze against him, and he began to pull away right as her hands grasped his arms pulling him back to her. Her hands slid upwards, tangling in his neatly styled hair, and he grinned, normally she’d be the one killing him for having a hair out of place.
“This is a terrible idea,” Zoya gasped, pulling back slightly.
“Really? I consider this one of my best yet,” he laughed as she hit his chest, drawing her close again. One of the biggest moments in his life was scheduled to happen in minutes and he couldn’t find it in himself to be anxious about it, not when he’d been waiting years for this.
She pulled him close this time, throwing her hesitations out the window, pressing her fingers to his cheek. Her other hand moved to help him shrug off his suit jacket, letting out a breathless laugh against his lips as it refused to come off.
“Seems I’m a bit stuck,” he whispered, eyes sparkling as he rested his forehead against hers.
“Seems you are. Try—” she was interrupted by the sound of footsteps quickly approaching. Nikolai flung himself in front of the stage door, barricading it with his body as Zoya began straightening out his clothes, pulling the jacket up, straightening his tie and trying to flatten the strands of hair she’d mussed only moments before. ‘Now I remember why this was such a bad idea,’ she thought, fixing her own appearance with one hand, Nikolai intertwining the other with his as Genya knocked on the door.
“Nikolai you’re on in a minute!”
“Thank you, Genya dear,” he shot Zoya a wink, pressing a quick kiss to her fingers before pulling her through the door behind him. ‘Shameless,’ she thought, pulling her hand from his before they ran into their friends, ‘that man is completely shameless.’
“Good night, and thank you.” Nikolai called, letting the cheers of the crowd wash over him. He had accomplished many things in his life, each more grand than the last, but this win felt different. Maybe it was the fact that he’d finally managed to figure out if Zoya shared his feelings, or the fact that in an hour he would be getting drunk at their victory party before heading to a surprise karaoke party being thrown for him which he’d already found out about from a sleep-talking David. He knew he must be grinning like an idiot as he and his team headed back to his limo, waiting for Demidov's congratulatory call. Tolya popped open a bottle of champagne as Demidov graciously accepted defeat and talked Nikolai’s ear off for twenty minutes about how he was going to go be C.E.O. of his father's company specializing in something or the other, and how he’d love to get lunch with Nikolai and talk about contributing to his future campaigns. His arm was draped over the back of Zoya’s seat, something he always did, but a gesture that felt electric tonight. He wanted nothing more than to go back to what they had started earlier, but he was sure that Zoya wasn’t ready for anyone to know quite yet. And so they passed the rest of the ride listening to David’s enthusiasm about how many votes Nikolai got, his eyes meeting on hers time and time again. As Genya chimed in, Nikolai moved, subtle enough that no one else noticed when he daringly slipped his hand down around Zoya’s shoulders. She relaxed ever so slightly, looking up at him with an arched brow before leaning into him in the slightest of ways. Nikolai suppressed a grin, tonight was something out of his most wild dreams.
As they approached the skyscraper where the party was, Zoya’s phone rang out shrilly, the tone for unknown callers playing. She frowned, the only people who had her personal number were either sitting in this car, or at her aunt’s house, and she had them all saved in her phone. Reaching into her clutch, she pulled it out, there was no caller ID. Nikolai raised a brow at her taking a sip from his glass, all of the others in the car watching curiously alongside him. Normally she wouldn’t bother to pick it up, but she’d never gotten a spam call on this number, and she wouldn’t mind berating someone tonight, that and the tiniest worry that something had happened to her aunt or cousin and for some reason they were using a different number.
“Who is this?” she said, by way of greeting.
“Zoya, such a pleasure to hear your voice.” she froze.
“No.” She pulled away from the phone, moving to end the call when he spoke again, loud enough that she couldn’t hide who it was from the rest of them.
“Now, now Zoya, I just wanted to congratulate you on your win, you always were my most capable student, although Safin did serve her purposes too, until she decided to betray me.”
“Shut up,” Zoya hissed, feeling rage coursing through her veins. How dare he say Genya’s name, how dare he call her, tonight of all nights. How had he gotten this number? Everyone who had it hated him more than the next.
“You did a good job, Zoya. I’m excited to see what you do next. I’ll have a front row seat, naturally.” He waited for her to say something, but she didn’t, if she tried to speak right now, she would scream instead. When he realized she wouldn’t he continued, “Jarl Brum has asked me to be his new chief of staff, and since his office works closely with Sobachka’s— your golden boy’s district, I’m sure we’ll be seeing a lot more of one another.” She heard Genya gasp, Tolya growl, Tamar reach for her holster, and from the corner of her eye she saw that Nikolai was watching her, a worried crease between his brows.
“Listen you bastard,” she began, ready to eviscerate him. She thought tonight’s victory would be enough, but here he was again, taunting them again. She would not let him have the upper hand. “If you so much as think about any of us again, I swear to the Saints that I will rip your t—” Zoya stopped as Nikolai’s hand touched her arm gently shaking his head once, a simple warning. She knew he was right, they were in the business of politics, and he already had enough reasons to make their lives miserable. She wouldn’t let him see how angry she was. She would wait, quietly, until the moment he least expected it, and then she would end his career. ‘I will drag him down like he deserves. He won’t be able to hurt them again.’ she vowed.
“Lose this number. Don’t cry too much over the big bonus check you would’ve gotten if you had half the brains I do and had won. Goodnight Alexis.” Zoya spat, hanging up before he spoke again. She tossed her phone onto the floor carelessly, she had no use for it anymore, not when that snake had her number. Tamar let out a whoop as Tolya and Genya began clapping.
“I can’t wait to see you kick his ass in person!” Genya sang, slipping out of the car not waiting for the rest to follow, and Zoya heard her voice continue, moving away from them. When it was just her and Nikolai left, she began to stand, halting as his hand slipped to her knee. She didn’t want to hear him ask if she was okay, she loathed to think that any of them had to see that part of her. Instead, he surprised her.
“I didn't get to thank you yet.”
She snorted, “thank me for what? Almost threatening to murder a man on the phone?”
He made a face, “no, for helping me win.”
“ You would’ve definitely lost without my help.”
“Undoubtedly.”
After a brief silence, they both spoke at once, “what now?”
He let out a strained laugh, looking weary as he asked, “do you want to do this Nazyalensky?”
“Do you?”
“Yes,” he breathed, cupping her face with a hand, “yes.”
She swallowed, turning her face into his palm, she had pretended she hadn’t wanted this for so long that she was afraid to question herself now. Did she want this? She did, but she was also scared. Scared to ruin what they had, scared it wouldn’t work out, scared he would be just another person who left her behind. Maybe it was the adrenaline of the night, or the glimmer in his eyes, but she didn’t care. She wanted this, that much she was sure of.
She nodded once, smiling at the dorky look on his face, sliding her hand into his coat pocket and typing furiously into his phone.
“What are you doing?”
“Telling Genya we left something at the office. That buys us 30 minutes before we have to actually go up.”
“Clever, Nazyalensky.” he chuckled, tapping a finger against the divider, asking his driver to circle around the city for 30 minutes. He smiled as she tapped her glass against his in a cheers, falling back against his outstretched arm, letting him pull her closer against his side. When she tilted her head up, she tasted sweet like champagne, though she was anything but, and Nikolai knew he could definitely get used to this.
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(Above: Ettinger and Ruffalo after a performance of Awake and Sing! in 2006).
Mark Ruffalo and Philip Ettinger on Playing Four Versions of the Same Two Characters in I Know This Much Is True
By Mark Ruffalo for “Interview” magazine
May 19, 2020
What do we want from entertainment when the outside world feels so bleak? Are we in search of a balm, or more salt to pour on our wounds? For Mark Ruffalo and Philip Ettinger, the answer leans toward the latter, which makes their new HBO miniseries I Know This Much Is True perfectly tuned to the moment. Ruffalo stars in the writer and director Derek Cianfrance’s six-part adaptation of Wally Lamb’s 1998 novel, playing Dominick and Thomas Birdsey, identical twin brothers who couldn’t be more different. In the show’s first episode, Thomas, a paranoid schizophrenic, severs his own hand in a public library as a sacrifice to god, and the story refuses to let up from there, skipping back and forth in time as it digs into the traumas that have left these brothers so broken. Ettinger, a 34-year-old actor who mined similarly grim territory as a radical environmentalist in 2017’s First Reformed, plays college-age versions of the Birdsey twins, which meant he not only had two play two characters, but also sync his performances to match Ruffalo’s, an actor he grew up idolizing. Here, Ruffalo and Ettinger connected a day after the show’s premiere to discuss why challenging art is better suited to challenging times, and the cathartic experience of bringing this dark story to light. —BEN BARNA
———
PHILIP ETTINGER: How are you doing?
MARK RUFFALO: I’m doing okay, man. I’m feeling really fucking raw today and vulnerable, like I went on a bender and peed on my girlfriend’s parents’ coffee table, thinking that I was having a great time. And then I’m waking up the next morning just saying to myself, “Oh, fuck. What have I done?”
ETTINGER: [Laughs] I re-watched the premiere last night, and it’s much easier to see it a second time. I couldn’t even process it the first time I watched it.
RUFFALO: How did you nail me as Dominick? It’s uncanny to see someone doing a version of me—and doing it so well.
ETTINGER: That means a lot coming from you. I told you this before, but I wrote you a letter when I was doing This Is Our Youth in acting school because you’ve always been an actor that I’ve looked up to [Ruffalo starred in the Kenneth Lonergan play when it premiered off-Broadway in 1996]. I connected to you more than any actor, the way that you led with vulnerability and an open heart. When this audition came up, to play a younger you, it felt like the universe was handing me something. I watched every interview you’ve ever done, and before every night of shooting, I watched your scenes from You Can Count On Me, because I tried to use that as a template for my version of Dominick.
RUFFALO: I think that Dominick is kind of the 52-year-old version of Terry [Ruffalo’s character in You Can Count On Me], in a weird way.
ETTINGER: That’s so interesting. You’ve gone on to have such an expansive career, and you’re just coming off of the Avengers movies. Does this feel like you’re coming back home in a way?
RUFFALO: Kind of, yeah, because it’s about family, it’s working class, it’s in a small town. It’s real people dealing with real problems in really human ways, and it’s a guy who’s very tough, but there’s something beautiful and sensitive about him. It’s the kind of material I was doing before I did Avengers. It’s probably what I relate to the most. Will it be as popular? Probably not. But as an actor, it’s very meaningful to me. You were shooting Thomas before I did, and you really showed me so much of that character. I don’t know if you could see it, but I was pulling directly from you. And then we had that amazing walk with each other when we met that night, and talked about these two guys and tried to integrate our performances. That was really special. Not many actors would be willing to do that, and I really appreciate you opening yourself up and being vulnerable and the give-and-take that we shared in that 40-block walk.
ETTINGER: I think it happened right before I was about to start shooting, and I was totally shitting-my-pants nervous. Like you said, I was playing Thomas first, and I wanted to make my own choices and follow my instinct. But I’m in support of you, and I wanted to be in service of your performance. That night you opened your heart to me, and it’s a thing I’ll never forget. We were just walking the city streets finding it together. And I didn’t even know this, but one day before I’d play Dominick, I’d do pushups. And then then I found out that you did pushups before—
RUFFALO: Every take.
ETTINGER: The energy was so special on that set. Derek [Cianfrance] sets up a playground where you feel like you’re one organism trying to tell a story. Things would happen that were way past intellectual choices. I’m not a good impressionist, I can’t try to copy you. I just trusted that the energy would work itself out.
RUFFALO: Did you prefer playing one character more than the other?
ETTINGER: With Dominick I would get so angry and frustrated, and then I’d go to my trailer and change into Thomas, and I got to be as present and open and empathetic as possible. So it felt freeing. There’s something about Thomas, he just tells the truth, and sees with a certain type of clarity that’s not fogged up by other things. How about you?
RUFFALO: You had it much more difficult than me because you were doing both characters on the same day. How beautiful and delineated those two performances are is mindblowing. But I had a similar experience. Dominick, like you said, has this armor, he has to project strength, and he uses violence as the final way to resolve an issue, whether it’s emotional or physical. When I started to play Thomas, Derek was like, “Let your stomach go.” And I was like, “What?” And he’s like, “Let your stomach go, man. Stop holding in your stomach!” And I was like, “I’m not holding in my stomach!” And I realized I’ve been holding my stomach in my whole life as a show of masculinity, that I have this strong core, that if someone just came up and punched me in the stomach, I’d be able to take the punch. I’ve spent my whole life on-the-ready in that way. And Thomas is so soft in the stomach. He shows his belly, that softness, that vulnerability. He has a kind of freedom about who he is. I mean, the guy cuts his fucking hand off. We shot that scene on September 11, and when I came in and sat down in the coffee shop, we all took a moment of silence. In the moment of silence, I started praying, spontaneously, just like Thomas started talking, and he was praying for America. And I started to realize that if we had listened to Thomas, we wouldn’t be where we are today. The world would be a different place. The Iraq war would have never happened. We probably wouldn’t have had a second term of Bush. We wouldn’t have had the division in the country that has led to Trump. It’s just so funny that that character who we all write off as crazy, or who we’re afraid of, was so prescient to know what was right.
ETTINGER: What is normal? We’ve created a whole society of structure and time and these jobs we have to do, and that is what makes us important. Yes, there’s a part of Thomas that can flip into extreme paranoia, but I made the decision that it stems from an impulse of ultimate truth. Like you said, he’s right on his impulse. He might take it too far, but there’s a part of him that is way more truthful and way more knowing than almost everyone else around him.
RUFFALO: Did you read the book?
ETTINGER: I read half of the book while I was reading the scripts, and then I put it aside. I’ve saved the other half of the book until this all passes so I can have my own moment with it.
RUFFALO: I totally understand the impulse of wanting to find it on your own. What was working with Derek like?
ETTINGER: When I met with you in the diner, the one thing you said to me was, “Don’t worry, he doesn’t move on until he has what he’s looking for.” I love how Derek is constantly chasing lightning in a bottle, and the ultimate truth. And you think you have it one way, and then he just pushes you into a whole different thing so far beyond anything that I can intellectually think about. It’s the greatest.
RUFFALO: It’s so satisfying and so scary.
ETTINGER: He has such a fine-tuned impulse for watching actors and then pushing them in the right direction. You’ve just got to be game.
RUFFALO: Do you think the material is too heavy for this moment?
ETTINGER: I was wondering how people would take this story during the time that we’re in, but I’ve mostly been watching stuff that has a lot of heart and has a lot of pain and has people struggling to survive. I think everyone has felt pain on many different levels, and I’ve always felt a sense of comfort and a sense of being less alone when I watch truthful stories that deal with real-life shit. I’m at a point in my life where I’m trying to be honest with my own traumas and pain, and it’s interesting how the projects that I’ve done lately have been more of an internal dive into some difficult stuff.
RUFFALO: Everyone wants to be hysterical right now, to just laugh themselves off the fucking cliff, but what I see is a world that’s full of a lot of pain and suffering and loss. And to tell the truth about that in art is a cathartic act, a reminder of who we are as human beings in a moment when I feel like this world we’re living in now is post-human, where the technology is actually leaving mankind behind. The digital image is so packed full of information that our eyes can’t even see all of the information that it’s recording. We can’t keep up with it, and we’re living in our shallow social media selves that are only projected versions of ourselves, but not real or human in any way. So find something that really tells the truth about the human experience, about loss, about love, about connection, about responsibility to each other, about fighting for something—all those things are a good reminder of what it is to be a human being in a time that’s so dehumanizing.
ETTINGER: I feel like such an important part of the struggle of just living is to feel connected to each other, to understand that we aren’t alone.
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Archiving this interview in full, in case the link to the magazine that I posted earlier, expires sometime in the future.
#mark ruffalo#philip ettinger#i know this much is true#iktmit#derek cianfrance#first reformed#the evening hour
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Are You A Bible Basher?
~By Billy Goate~
Art by J. Hannan-Briggs
Words from the Bible,
...riffs from Hell.
This is BIBLE BASHER, a lumbering, sludgey beast of a death-doom band, drawing its fellows from Kurokuma, Archelon, Spaztik Munkey, and a band whose name alone intrigues me enough to spirit them out: Temple of Coke. The debut recording before us is 'Loud Wailing' (2020), just released last month on the Sludgelord Records Label and it's good stuff.
Chances are good that if you're unfamiliar with the band, you're waiting for the other shoe to drop: what's the agenda here? It bears mentioning that "Bible Basher" is an almost uniquely UK term. In the States, we tend to use the more politically acceptable (though still insulting) "Bible Thumper." Getting to the point: a Bible Basher is not someone who subjects the big black book and the pages there to beating, maiming, or otherwise spilling syrup on its Holy Writ nor turning its sacred pages into roll paper for a cheap high.
No, a Bible Basher is someone single-mindedly determined to bash you with their beliefs, clean across the head. You gotta get you on board with the whole worldview, the Last Days manifesto, the 3 steps to this place, the 5 steps to somewhere else, and however many more steps to the sanctuary doors. Usually, this evangelism has all the clumsy subtlety of a Jack Chick tract left on the Gas Station john. Sometimes it gets a bit more intrusive, like a manic street preacher with a megaphone or, more annoying still, a brainwashed politician determined to fence you into their highly selective idea of "God's Will."
All culture warring aside, it might surprise you to learn that I hold a great deal of respect for the Bible and believe it has an important role in developing our understanding of what makes human beings so fundamentally religious. The Bible is just one expression of people's religious and spiritual identity, of course. There have been many volumes written, by the gods it was said, attempting to reconcile the real and the ideal, time and eternity, the drab and the divine.
All fancy preambling aside, I wonder why more bands haven't gotten into the Bible and other sacred/profane lit, you know kinda breathing new life into old words? You have to admit, the concept is fascinating and the medium of expression surprisingly fits the unsparing nature of the content.
Perhaps afraid of appearing sacrilegious or being denounced as a Deicide wannabe, bands have just decided to walk away slowly. That or they don't even know how truly bizarre and sometimes brilliant the Bible can be. True, there are bands like Trouble/The Skull who have adapted Scripture into music, even succeeded in crossing over to a non-religious audience. Hell, The Byrds practically immortalized the words of The Preacher in Ecclesiastes back in '65 with that folk rock classic, 'Turn, Turn, Turn." Bible Basher are definitely onto a thing here.
Regardless of where you find a band called Bible Bash on the meter between "disgusting" and "fucking awesome, dude," they really aren't here to mock Scripture or Christians, not even to pronounce a value judgement. This is an artful attempt at retelling the stories of old, allowing us to gaze upon their vision.
☩
So Samson Sang
Loud Wailing by Bible Basher
Out of all books, The Bible is perhaps most prized for its collection of ancient stories, many of which become embedded in our collective consciousness over time (if not the unconscious mind itself). The tale of Samson, for instance, is practically universal (Hercules, anyone?). Bible Basher invoke its powerful imagery for this Rage against the Philistines opener. The bulldog gruff of "So Samson Sang" suits the song unexpectedly well. Perhaps the impact is greater because we feel the punch of each word, measured and metered, calculated to leave the most indelible impact.
Simson verslaat de Filistijnen met een ezelskaak (1562) by Cornelis Massijs
Plagued
Loud Wailing by Bible Basher
You'll never hear the anguish of Job expressed with as much weight as you will in "Burning and Blackened," for example. And the death-mongers among us, you'll enjoy the swirling storm of blast beats that "Plagued" stirs up and whips around Egypt, 10 plagues in all it is said. As this topsy-turvy number swarms along, the song feels like it's burrowing itself deeper and deeper into the ground in a crazed hypnotic dirge, as if seeking some relief from this madness of rivers turned to blood and a head full of lice.
Seventh Plague of Egypt (1823) by Martin John
Burning and Blackened
Loud Wailing by Bible Basher
I'm really digging the Middle Eastern vibe of "Burning and Blackened," on the tape's flip side. I could all but feel the cool of dawn and that first burning lick of the sun's rise. As a die-hard doomer, it won't surprise you that I marked this my favorite song of the experience. The way this grand skeleton of chords suffles about had me thinking of Iowa City's Aseethe (I hereby wish an Aseethe-Bible Basher tour upon the world come 2021).
Job and his Friends (1885) by Gustave Dore
Sodom & Gomorrah
Loud Wailing by Bible Basher
By the time we reach "Sodom & Gomorrah," we're battered, basted, and baked, ready for a fine finish to this four-course nosh. The vocals seem harsher than usual this time, but you have to understand that's the prophet divining judgement upon the most infamous twin cities of history (we find out in the interview to follow that there are multiple vocalists).
The whole song's got a nice, chewy groove to it. Plenty of meat on them bones. The lyrics consist of nothing more than the Bible's words, adding as much expressive liberty as death vocals will allow. The thick, smoky atmosphere of this whole song gave me flashbacks to 71TONMAN's "Phobia" and Old Man Gloom's "Procession of the Wounded."
The destruction of Sodom and Gomorrah by Jules-Joseph-Augustin Laurens
If I've any gripe with Loud Wailing, it's the runtime. Okay, yeah, sure, it's appropriate for an EP, but I can't shake the feeling that this is actually more of a teaser for something even grander in scope. Perhaps this is a toe in the water for the band, to see how people respond? Well, it's enough to reassure us that this sound and subject matter is poised to make some mighty big footprints.
Heck, I'd do the whole Bible book by book, if I was in their shoes. 66 in all, right? No problem. Okay, 73 if you're Catholic, 78 if you're Eastern Orthodox. Whatever, bonus editions. Works either way, 'cause you've got a guaranteed record deal and freaks like me to follow you wherever this piper lures. The band can break up from the repetitive bore of the long-ass genealogies in Leviticus and Numbers, but then reunite again to take on Deuteronomy.
All kidding aside, the dramatic potential of this collaboration is unreal. Bible Basher's debut is a promising record that presents tantalizing artistic possibilities (perhaps even with a roving collective of performers). The EP wears well on its own terms with repeated listens and I never found myself disinterested, even for a moment. Loud Wailing is the brutal dawning of a New Age in dirty grunts and dank riffs.
Give ear...
Loud Wailing by Bible Basher
An Interview with Bible Basher
By Billy Goate
Intrigued by this hulking beast shrieking out in my backyard, I had to move in for a closer look. Following is my conversation with band member Joe E. Allen, who most of us know from Kurokuma and gives us insight as to who Bible Basher is and what the band is up to.
☩
Would you be so kind as to give me some background on the band, how you guys ended up coming together, basically the whole history?
Tich has recorded and helped produce most of the Kurokuma releases up till now, most of which you've heard or written about. Tich mostly makes electronic music and is pretty well known for it, but he was also in a band called Temple of Coke back in the day. Daft music with two guitarists and no bassist. Some big riffs in there.
They stopped doing much after one of the guitarists left Sheffield, but Tich still had a lot of riffs lying around. Obviously, he used to come to a lot of Kurokuma gigs in Sheffield -- and even saw us in Japan -- so he felt like getting back on writing some big guitar stuff and asked me if I'd give him some input. Over the course of a year or so we just reshaped those old riffs and added plenty of new ones and as we progressed it just kept getting bigger and heavier.
What's up with the name? You've got pretty distinct religious themes (love the motto). I come from a strict religious background myself (preacher's kid). What are your own backgrounds relative to the themes you explore?
I've always thought that some of the stories from the Bible, especially the Old Testament would make for perfect concepts in heavy metal. Unrelatedly, one day we were sitting around and Tich said let's call this Bible Basher -- it just came out of nowhere. I agreed, it just seemed to make sense. Here in the UK it's what you get called if you go to church, it's an insult. I had a really Christian upbringing with my dad being a vicar, as well, so was very into all that when I was younger.
Plus I went to a religious school, so I've definitely been called a bible basher quite a bit. It's actually taken me a while to remove that whole paradigm from the way I see reality, but that's another story. Tich wasn't like me in that aspect, but he did go to a religious school, as well. At this point, I think we're both not massive fans of organised religion, but that doesn't mean we're not into philosophy and more celestial concepts. We've both read quite a bit of things like Manly P. Hall and The Kybalion. We didn't wanna make a "statement" on anything with this, though. Just wanted to present it "as is."
I'm sure we'd all love to know how the individual tracks came together. The single on this one was "So Samson Sang," which met with some pretty positive reception.
I know the Bible pretty well and it wasn't too difficult to find concepts for the tracks. "So Samson Sang" was the first one we did. The lyrics are: "With a donkey's jawbone, I made donkeys of them. With a donkey's jawbone, killed a thousand men." And then "I have slain, heaps on heaps." They were from the book of Judges, when Samson slaughtered loads of Philistines, pretty much taken straight off the page. It was that easy. We got George in to do the vocals, for obvious reasons. We sat on the track for a bit and sent it round a few mates and everyone was like, "This is sick," which made us want to finish up the other tracks, which already were mostly done.
The other three tracks all came together in one night. We basically asked three mates from other bands to come over and figured out concepts for each of them. It was good to get their input and it was pretty collaborative. I think they all enjoyed being given a bit of a brief to work within and we were buzzing to end up with four different vocal styles for each track. So on track 1 you have George from Kurokuma, then on track 2 you have Bing who used to be in a thrash band called Psython and can obviously do the really fast/rhythmic thing and his death growls were just spot on. That track ended up sounding like Pig Destroyer or something to me. Obviously, it's about the ten plagues of Egypt and the fast/swirling nature of the riffs just seemed to fit.
On track three, we have Craig from Archelon and Holy Spider, so I know him pretty well. He did more of a Neurosis style on the track about Job. That one starts off with a zurna, which is a pipe from the Middle East area. There's a spoken word section in the middle, a conversation between God and Satan. I actually only realised what this was when we were going through the Bible for the lyrics.
God calls all his angels together, Satan being one of them, and they get into this conversation where God is saying he likes Job and Satan is saying if his life went to shit, I wonder if he'd still worship you. So God is like, "Okay, go for it." It's stuff like this that fascinates me. I think there's a fairly deep message to be heard in that if you read into it, but most Christians won't. As a text of folkloric wisdom the Bible is pretty meaningful to me, but most Christians don't treat it in that way in my experience.
And then we have the demented squeals of Chris from Spaztik Munkey doing the voice of God on track four which is about Sodom and Gomorrah. It worked out well that the ending riff fit perfectly with the syllables in the phrase "Sodom and Gomorrah."
In general, this release was a right laugh to work on. The songs just came together and it was good for us all to collaborate on something outside of our normal bands. And the response has been mega positive so far. Aaron sold out the first 50 tapes in three days so we're already on the second batch now.
Get Their Music
#D&S Reviews#Bible Basher#Doom#Sludge#Metal#Death Doom#Doom Metal#Sludgelord Records#HeavyBest2020#D&S Interviews#Doomed & Stoned
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Twinpathy (Feelings)
And here’s part 2.
Caryn Pines had thought having one baby was difficult.
Compared to twin babies, though, Shermie had been a godsend.
Not to say that she didn’t love her little ones, though; pathological liar though she might have been, one thing Caryn was honest about was how much her children meant to her.
The frustrating thing was how...emotional they tended to get, at basically the same time. If one of them started crying, it wouldn’t be long before the other one was wailing along in chorus.
Stanley had started it tonight, and had needed to be held and fed for twenty minutes before he was appeased. Surprisingly, Ford hadn’t seemed interested in eating when she tried feeding him too, but he was quietly gurgling in his crib now, like all he’d needed was for his brother to be happy. Caryn smiled at the adorable thought, and leaned down over Stanley, who was now lying in her lap for some special mommy-time, letting her hair cascade over his face as her fingers danced over his tiny bare feet.
“Tickle tickle!” she crooned, wiggling them over his toes.
Stanley squirmed, and let out a tiny baby laugh.
And Stanford laughed at the exact same time, from the other side of the room.
Caryn stared in bewilderment for a moment, before she repeated the action. And it happened again; both babies let out high, gurgling laughs.
Caryn picked Stanley up, tucking him into the crook of her arm, and went to check on her other baby.
Stanford was lying in the crib, looking very much like he wanted to sit up and see what was going on out here; he smiled gummily when he saw his mother’s face appear above him. She reached down and booped the end of his nose; he wrinkled it at her and giggled, and from her arm Stanley giggled too.
Caryn smiled again, with even more warmth, and carefully put Stanley on the other side of the crib.
“Don’t worry, your secret’s safe with me,” she reassured them. She doubted Filbrick would understand, and besides, this was something special for just the two of them to have.
****************
Occasionally, there would be these incidents where Ford’s telephone would ring, and whoever it was would hang up after he answered.
They didn’t happen too often; just often enough for him to notice. Sometimes there would be more than one a week, sometimes it would be months in between calls.
But after about four months of receiving them, Ford noticed something else: that after one of these calls, he always felt an odd burst of...well, melancholy seemed like the best description. For no apparent reason, he would just feel so incredibly sad and crushed, like it hurt that whoever it was calling didn’t want to talk to him after all, and he would have to lose himself in his research until the feeling went away.
********
Stan placed the phone back in its cradle and groaned inwardly.
Stupid stupid STUPID!
Of all the people to waste his one phone call on, he had picked the one person he wanted to talk to more than anyone else in the world, but who would have absolutely nothing good to say to him. And then he’d just hung up as soon as he heard his voice, again. Pathetic didn’t begin to describe it.
He’d even thought about what he wanted to say this time: Ford, it’s me. Before you get mad, please listen. I’ve been arrested, and I need your help.
But he couldn’t get the words out.
Who was he kidding-he was thinking, what, that after all this time Ford would be suddenly willing to jump into action and give him so much as the time of day?
Stanley quietly followed the guard to his cell, gave his new cellmate his best ‘however tough you think you are, I’m a lot tougher, buddy’ glare, and didn’t say a word for the rest of the night.
****************
It had all been a lie.
Bill was a monster, and Ford, in his arrogance, had refused to listen to his only other friend’s doubts and concerns and had nearly given his ‘Muse’ exactly what he needed to come here. He’d been taken in by his flattery and promises that he would change the world-oh, the world would be changed all right, by becoming obliterated with chaos!
And unless he could do something to stop the portal from ever being made functional again, it would be all Ford’s fault.
********
In the weeks before that postcard arrived, Stan’s thoughts were even darker than usual.
He didn’t know why, but that night kept popping up in his head-his father hurling him into the street, the door slamming shut, the curtains closing in his face.
The bitter feeling that he’d been betrayed by the one person he’d always thought he could trust, and knowing that it was his own fault didn’t make it any better.
The only thing that made it go away was seeing the words “PLEASE COME.”
****************
Stan sat apart from the campfire and stewed.
When he made one horrible, stupid mistake, the world turned him into its chew toy and he lost everything. He had to learn to fend for himself on the streets, and spent years either alone or surrounded by people who only cared about you as long as you gave them exactly what they wanted.
When Ford, the golden boy with the extra fingers and a brain the size of a small planet, made a horrible, stupid mistake, the world gasped in horror and immediately flocked to his rescue.
What Stan did didn’t matter, he was always the screw-up who got shuffled aside because in the long run, the universe or Fate or whatever the heck it was liked Ford better.
His mood wasn’t helped by the fact under his suit he felt... itchy everywhere, like ants were crawling under his skin. Even though he’d sprayed himself with bug repellent like three times already.
Stan sat, with a crowd of people nearby but still totally alone.
Some things never changed.
********
In the Fearamid, Ford writhed as Bill filled him with electricity for the tenth-maybe eleventh?-time, biting his lip so hard he tasted blood. He wished, again, that he could be allowed the mercy of losing consciousness. Or, if things got any worse, maybe something stronger.
****************
It helped if he didn’t think too hard; if he just let the name of whoever he was talking to flow naturally out of his subconscious, like it had the second the pig-Waddles-jumped on him and started licking him.
He’d lost track of how long they’d been looking at the scrapbook, and the two little gremlins-his family, Dipper and Mabel-were actually on the verge of falling asleep on either side of him-no, there they went now, little heads nestling against his shoulders and snuggling into his chest.
Soos had already fallen asleep, his big warm face pillowed on the armrest, and a small ribbon of drool already sliding down his cheek.
But as tired as he was, Stan couldn’t bring himself to join them yet; there was one other person he needed to talk to and identify.
The old guy who’d hugged him out in the forest...Stan didn’t know how he knew, but he knew that this had affected him more than the others in some ways. When they’d first reached the shack, all of them looked upset, but he looked like he'd just lost his best friend. And it was almost like Stan could feel the pain himself.
He had some idea about what their relationship was; after all, he’d seen his photo in the scrapbook, seen how closely they resembled each other. But he’d held off on asking any specific questions so far.
The old guy was quieter than the rest of the group as they worked to start refreshing his memory, just standing next to the chair in relative silence, twiddling his thumbs on and off and looking at the scrapbook over Stan’s shoulder. The nervousness radiating off him now was making Stan edgy too, and instead of meeting his eyes like he’d meant to he found himself looking down at the guy’s hands, clenched together on the back of the chair so hard the knuckles were turning white.
Stan unwrapped his arm from around Mabel, and before he could think about what he was doing he poked the spot where the extra fingers were.
“Cool hands,” he said aloud. “You probably make great shadow puppets.”
The old guy visibly clenched his teeth down on his lower lip. “You always thought so.”
“I believe it, with those six fingers-”
Stan let out a small inadvertent gasp as the words stirred something to life in his memories.
Six.
Sixer.
A flood of images, some clearer than others, flashed before his mind’s eye. And then, slowly, hesitantly, he raised his hand, palm up, fingers spread.
“High six?”
Sixer-not his real name, but it would do for now-just leaned down and wrapped his arms tightly around Stanley’s neck, kind of like he had when he’d first ‘woken up’ in the forest, except this time he knew to reciprocate.
“High six,” Sixer whispered against his hat.
And it didn’t matter whether the happiness both of them felt was shared or just self-generated.
****************
Yes, I admit it, the ending is a little schmaltzy. But after the emotional wringer that’s been the last forty years of their lives, I feel like they’ve earned it.
#twinstinct#twinpathy#artsymeeshee#renconnor#pines twins classic#kings of new jersey#stan pines#ford pines#angst with a happy ending
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