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#and i thought that was standard until some guy got annoyed at our parents because my brother called him mr. [first name]

lumosandnoxwriting · 4 years

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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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blogevaawrites · 3 years

Text

BIG DEAL

Pairing: Chris Evans x Reader

Warnings: smut, cheating, angst

Summary: After being away of you boyfriend for three weeks, you come to Chris’s house after he had thrown a party where you met a girl you haven’t see ever. The beginning of the relationship was unconventional so you couldn’t do anything else but suspect.

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Epilogue

“It’s not fair” the voice from de other side of the phone was deep, he was slurring his words. I did recognize it, it was hard to forget it, but it was quite odd hearing him like that, so drunk that he couldn’t speak.

“Chris? It’s 3:00 am. I was sleeping.” I said sitting on the bed better.

“Oh yeah? How does that feel? You know what? I was doing it fine. I let you go; I was getting you out of my head. Why it's so fucking easy for you to get into it?” he sounded sad and mad at the same time.

“Chris, I’m sorry if what I told you hurt your feelings, it was mean, I know. I'm really sorry. Your personal life is not my business anymore.” He didn’t let me finish. He wasn’t interested in my apologies.

“I wanted everything of that with you. I wanted a wedding, I wanted to find a fucking house together, a big fucking house to have a big fucking family. I made up my mind to have kids, adopt two and maybe have one, because that was your dream family. And fuck! I wanted it so much, I wanted to be part of that fucking dream so much. I don't want it if you aren't in the equation. Why it's so hard to believe for you? Why don't you want everything of that just with me? It's not fucking fair, why are you still in my head? How can you be so collected?” his words brought me back to the time I told him my dream.

He was staying in my apartment after being away for a couple weeks, he couldn’t sleep because of the jetlag and I wasn’t tired either, he was happy for my sleeplessness, he hated being alone in somebody’s else house. We went to get a few donuts, one of the perks of living in NY was, no matter what time is it, you can always find some food.

I remembered we walked the entire night, just talking, enjoying each other’s company.

He told me about his family, about his relationships with his parents, with his siblings and he explained to the adoption’s process of his sister. I told him about my workmate who thought that adopting a child and having a baby was not the same, that he wouldn’t take care of a someone’s child. He was so absorbed in his donut that he responded without looking at me.

“Sorry, if he’s your friend, but he’s an idiot. Being a parent is about loving, taking care of and protecting a child, not a biological relation.” I saw him in a different way, in that moment I realized I loved him. He continued in his unawareness and asked me about my family, and my dream family.

I told him about what kind a family I wanted. I wanted to have a big one, a big house, a couple animals and a house in the woods. He laughed “I would never have said you were like that.”

“What? Why?” I tried to look offended, but it wasn’t the first time I got that. “I don’t know, you love living here, your tiny apartment and your demanding job.” he was right, I loved that, but I had always lived by my own, I was used to it. “My apartment it’s not tiny.”

“Honey, you don’t have a dog because of it.” He spoke. “It’s a standard-sized apartment in NY” I defended “That is just another statement in my favor” he laughed.

“Are you okay?” I asked coming back to the reality.

“I thought I was until I saw you. How can you be so happy? Why can you live without me when I’m not able…” he blurted out all his inside feelings, I knew him, I knew he wouldn’t tell me those things if he was sober or calm. He is so impulsive. I knew he was going to regret it later. “Chris…” I interrupted him but he didn’t stop. “Fuck, I miss you and I don’t want to.”

“I’m sorry” I said calmly. He didn’t respond. The line was alive, but he was in completely silence. “Chris?” and I didn’t hear nothing else.

I put my phone back on my nightstand while the conversation came to my mind. I don’t usually come to L.A, but I was Linda’s birthday, and we came to celebrate it. The club was new and kind of exclusive, I shouldn’t have been so surprised of finding him there.

He was chatting with a girl; I couldn’t see her face, but I could see him. He was so close to her, caressing his arm and touching her face. I wasn’t sure if I was on his vison, but it hurt me a bit he didn’t notice me.

The night went fine, I tried to forget about him and enjoyed the rest of the night. At some point, I went out to smoke a cigarette, I wasn’t a smoker but sometimes it feels good.

“Can I have one?” he said, I recognized his voice, I could feel his presence. I turned around to face him. I handed him one cigarette, trying to look calm. “Thank you.” He said with a smile. We stared for a few minutes until he spoke. “You look gorgeous. Your hair in that way, it has always been my favorite.” I give him a little smile as a thank you. “You look...taken.” I said, I shouldn’t have, he was free to do what he wanted. I had to admit that it bothered me, I got jealous. He didn’t look bother, anyway. He shook his head with a shy smile. “Well, you’re wrong. I’m completely single.”

“Is she aware of that? It doesn’t work if one of both doesn’t know it.” I said, he didn’t look hurt or annoyed by my words. He looked cheerful. “Ouch! Low blow. She is, don’t worry.” He said, looking at me right into my eyes. He is so flirty with a few drinks. “We are just friends. I’m not very good at relationships.” He spoke.

“I wouldn’t say that you’re not very good at it, you just miss the monogamy part. I thought you were ready to settle down. I guess they’re right, talk is cheap.” I threw out my wasted cigarette and was ready to say goodbye, but his face changed. He looked mad then, he didn’t say anything, but I noticed his mood wasn’t the same. I went too far. He got inside the club before me, without a word.

In the morning, I checked my phone. He didn’t call me again, but he did send me text.

“Sorry about last night, I shouldn’t have call you I was drunk and being an asshole. I`m so sorry. I won’t bother you again. Take care of yourself!”

After the day he left, we didn’t talk for three months. We didn’t have a tough conversation since then. He sent me flowers with a simple note for my birthday but nothing else.

“Hey girl! Why are you up so early?” Linda spoke, entering the room. “It’s 1 p.m.” I said joking. “Whatever! It’s my birth-weekend, if I said it’s early it is” she said with a big smile. “Why are you awake? We needed this, enjoy it and go back to bed.” she asked again.”

“I saw Chris last night” I said simply. “Where? At the club? I didn’t see him. Are you okay?” she got worry.

“Yes, at the club. And yes, I’m okay. We talked and I was being mean and kind of a bitch. He got mad and called me later. It was weird.” I responded.

“Why were you being mean? Did he tell you something?”

“He was with somebody. I don’t know, I got jealous.” It was hard for me to admit that I wasn’t like that I was completely against that but couldn’t help it.

“It’s normal, you were deeply in love with him.” He said before kissing me head.

We walked around the city and get lunch at a very nice and modern place. I didn’t think about him for the rest of the day.

“I know he lied and cheated but he is so fucking good looking.” Lucy commented suddenly. All of us got confuse until I turned around to see what she was staring at. A big billboard promoting his new film. Indeed, he was hot but in the picture he was breathtaking.

“Isn’t a shit that he is everywhere? I mean he is your ex.” Vanessa asked eating his meal.

“Yes. I guess.” I said simply. The topic of the conversation didn’t last long.

I didn’t realize he was everywhere until she mentioned it. The rest of the day he was in everything, Instagram, TV, even in the street.

I couldn’t take him out of my head.

“You are on every-fucking-where. Your face is all over this place.” I laughed, entering his house, he was filming something in L.A and I got a few days off to be with him. He was the face of a new fragrance so pictures of him were everywhere. For the first time in our relationship, I realized how famous he was. L.A was the place where I was with an actor and the rest of the world I was just with a guy. We were getting home from a night out. We were kind of drunk, not too much but in a very happy mood. “Oh! Shut up!” he said laughing. “Oh! Sorry sir, I don’t want to bother a such an important person. I will be a good girl.” I mocked, before I could do anything else, he took my face to his. “Will you?” he asked seductively, he kissed me deeply, holding my face firmly. His touches were always like that, comforting, protective and loving. I nodded smiling, unable to say anything with his mouth on mine. “Even L.A is a nice place when you are here.” He muttered against my cheek. His hands flew to my thighs to pick me up and take me to his room. Slowly, he took off my dress and helped me to get out of shoes. Just in my underwear, he smiled at me, and rubbed his gingers through my collarbones, the middle of my breast, my stomach and played with the band of my panties. “Haven’t you come out of my dreams?” he said. I moved my arms up to cover myself, laughing at his comment. “Alcohol makes you sappy.” I spoke. He took my hands to bring me closer to him “It makes me honest.” He kissed me and continued “Not even alcohol makes you speak. You’re such a cold heart chick, aren’t you?” he joked, I knew he was playing because he was smiling and kissing me but that wasn’t the first time, he insinuated something like that. “Chris…”

“I’m just joking, relax.” I let it go because I knew he was kind of right, I’m not a very affective person, or someone who loves to talk about love, but I was working on it.

At night we went to another club, it was a chill night, so we didn’t drink, we just talked and ate. When we wanted to go back to our rented house, we took a taxi but in the middle of ride I realized I left my jacket at the wardrobe’s club.

“Don’t worry! Get inside! I will be back in a couple minutes.” I said while the girls got out of the taxi.

I went back to the club, looking for my jacket. I asked the girl in charge of the wardrobe for it, she looked at me for a little bit too long. She handed my jacket and asked. “Sorry for question, but your face looks so familiar to me. Weren’t you Chris Evans’s girlfriend?” I got uncomfortable and she noticed. “I don’t want to bother you, it just I remember your face from where I used to work in. I worked in a restaurant in NY for a long time, and you and Chris used to go there, quite a lot.” She explained, I remembered her then, it was one of our favorite restaurants, and she was one of the waitresses. “Oh, yeah I remember you, Hi.” I spoke.

“We weren’t allowed to talk to our costumers there, I just wanted to tell you that you both make such a good couple, me and the other girls were in love with you guys.” She made me smile. We said goodbye and I left the place with him in my head.

“Okay, I’m ready. We can go.” I said to my driver, he was nice enough to wait for me to get my jacket. “Back to the house, right?” he asked turning on the engine. “No, can you take me here?” I asked, showing him the address on my phone.

I didn’t want to think about it twice. I wanted to see him.

As soon as we were near to his house, I realized I didn’t know where he was, he doesn’t come to LA until he has to. He was here yesterday but that was all I knew.

I got out of the taxi. “Do you want me to wait, or should I go?” the driver asked. For a few minutes I didn’t know what to do, and I saw the driver’s face was sightly impatient. “You can go, thank you.” I answered quickly, I wanted to see his face.

I rang the bell; I held my breath and I hoped he was there.

I waited for what I thought it was an eternity, but it was just two minutes.

I hear his voice on the intercom, and I blocked. “Who is it?” I couldn’t talk. I forgot how to speak. He waited not long before turning on the camera. I saw the red light and I knew he could see me. I didn’t say anything, and the sound of the door opening brought me back.

I walked to the house, and I just could see his silhouette because of the darkness.

“Are you trying to get even?” he joked, “Sorry to tell you, but you’re not as much intimidating as I can be, you can’t scare me”.

I didn’t respond, I kept walking in silence until I was at his door. Face to him. “What’s wrong? Are you okay?" he asked, suddenly worry about my state. I guess my expression was concerning.

“I’m sorry.” I just could say.

“Don’t worry, you can come whenever you want.” He spoke.

“I don’t mean that. I’m sorry…” I wanted to explain but he interrupted me.

“Hey! If this is about the call, don’t worry. I was being irrational, please! Just ignore it.” He looked shy.

“Can we talk?” I asked, I was feeling uncomfortable being outside. Before he could speak a woman’s laugh sound from inside the house, I realized he wasn’t alone. I blocked again. Him not being at home was an option, but I didn’t imagine that he could be with someone else.

“Oh! Shit! I should have called. I’m sorry,” I said, and I started to walk away. He looked confused for a few seconds before getting my arm. “Holy crap! No! Stop! It is not what you think! It’s Tara and Scott” he yelled.

I turned around and he continued “I had a few meetings here and they are spending the weekend here.” I felt the embarrassment going over my body. “We can go inside but they will be around. We can walk around the neighborhood, believe me it’ll be more private.” He suggested. I doubted for a second, but I nodded, he was right we’ll have more privacy.

“Okay! Wait a minute! I need my shoes.” He said before going back inside the house.

I started to regret, I wasn’t sure why I was there, what I wanted or anything. Before I could make any decision, he was back. He closed the door and started to walk by my side.

We walked for a few minutes, in completely silence. Our appearance was kind of odd, he was wearing sweatpants, an unmatched hoodie, and a pair of sneakers. In another hand, I was wearing a midi black dress, my shoulders were free and my feet in super high heels.

“Aren’t you cold? It’s kind of chill, isn’t?” he asked, breaking the silence, and starting to unzip his hoodie.

“No, I’m fine.” I knew he was trying to start a conversation, but I just didn’t know what to do.

“Great.” he said awkwardly. The silence came back. We just walked around the houses, there wasn’t many, but they were big enough to get us tired.

“So, how have you been? I heard about your promotion, I know you were trying to get it.” he asked, he knows if I was nervous, he had to keep up with the conversation.

“I’ve been fine, and yeah I got so excited for the promotion. Linda threw a party.” I told him. “I know, I saw a few pictures on Instagram.” He said quickly. Letting me know he had been stalking me. I looked at him in the eyes and he got what I was thinking about. He wrinkled his eyebrow trying to think how get out of judgment. “Okay! I could say you were suggested by the logarithm but, whatever, I was just curious. I have the normal curiosity of an ex-boyfriend, of a non psycho ex-boyfriend.” He explained shyly. He made me laugh and that made him smile. I felt more relaxed then.

“I’m sorry for being so mean at the party.” I spoke. His smile vanished and he started to shake his head slowly. “it wasn’t my business…”

“Hey! No! it’s fine, I was being too sensitive. I know you were joking. Don’t think about it. My call was completely out of place.” He spoke.

“I wasn’t joking, I was having an attack of jealousy.” I told him the truth. I had had a few with being his girlfriend but I didn’t admit it so I was a big statement for me.

“Well, you shouldn’t have…” I knew he was being nice enough not to make me feel even more humiliated. I interrupted him.

“I know, I know you’re free to…” I tried to explain but he spoke over me.

“You shouldn’t have because she is just a friend” he saw in my face a smirk that got him know what I was thinking about he used to have a lot of just-a-friend‘s friends. “A normal, regular, simple friend. We have been friends for years. Actually, I think you know her, she was Jessica, do you remember her?” I nodded, we used to go out with her when we were in L.A but we didn’t come very often. He didn’t like it and I was more than happy to be in N.Y.

“Great, can we pretend I didn’t say I was jealous? I feel ridiculous now.” I joked, he smiled at me and guided me to sit in a bench. “Now we’re even, you have my mortifying call, and I got your brutal honesty.” It was weird how I felt around him, after all that time, he could make me feel butterflies. I was still in love with him.

“I was being completely serious when I told you I was ready to settle down with you. You don’t understand how fucking different everything was with you, and when I realized how important you were to me, it was too late. I know I don’t have any right to be upset because I was the one who fucked everything up, but these past months I have been irrationally mad at you. I felt that you were taking my future with you away from me” he said laughing at himself. I was surprised by his words.

“I know, it’s a shitty though.” He continued when he saw my unbelieving face. “but these couple months have been awful, I haven’t felt like this before. I went to therapy and I realized that I’ve been sabotaging my relationships for a very long time. I didn’t think of it as a problem but then, I lost you and our relationship, and everything changed.” I kept quiet, astonished by his words.

“Chris…”

“No! Please, let me tell you something first. I’m sorry, for everything; for making you go through all of that, for not loving you how you deserve to be loved. I’m going to regret what I did for the rest of my life. I just want you to know that I truly loved you. Fuck! I’m still in love with you, I guess this kind of love doesn’t go away so easily.” He said, making my eyes get wet.

“Why didn’t tell me anything of this before?” It was everything I could say.

“Because you were right; what we had, wasn’t going in the right direction. You deserved better. And to be honest I was afraid to see you again, I wanted to leave you alone as you told me and even now, I’m not sure I’m going to be able to do that.” His speech left mute. I didn’t know why I came and now I wasn’t feeling any better.

I got up, and without a word I started to walk back to his house; I could feel his anxiety for my silence, but he didn’t say anything.

“It wasn’t all bad, was it?” I said in a try to cool off the situation.

“You were the best part of my life, honey. Of course, it wasn’t all bad!” he said uncomplainingly. That took every word off of my mouth.

After a big deep breathe I said, “I’m sorry for being so cold in our relationship.” He tried to stop me, but I didn’t let him. “I’m not very good at showing love, I know it hurt you in order of how you are, but I really tried to make it better.” I knew he hate that about me, not just avoiding the word -I love you- but I used to avoid expressing every feeling. I was a very lonely person so I didn’t know how to do it.

“I love every aspect of you, honey. You shouldn’t feel sorry for anything” he said. I knew he was right but I couldn’t help it.

“I should leave, it’s getting too late. I’m sorry for bothering you.” I said, he looked confused, but he didn’t say anything. We walked back to his house silently.

“Can I ask you something?” he asked when we were getting close to his entry’s house. I nodded “Why you came? It’s not like I don’t love to see you or know about you, but it was unexpected. And I don’t believe you came to say sorry.” He commented.

I didn’t answer right away. I didn’t have a reason to come.

“I honestly don’t know.” I said after a couple minutes. ”I saw a billboard announcing your new film. I remembered you. I started to think about you, about us. I just felt the need to see you.” I explained. He nodded and opened the door. “Give me a second, I will give you a ride,” before I could say no, he was inside the house.

I waited for him, getting close to his car and I remembered the first time he brought me to this house, I just moved to NY at that time, and we weren’t anything more that friends. He was being so talkative during our way to this house, which it wasn’t odd, but something told me he was overexcited. We spent literally every minute of the week together, he was a fun guy to be around, and the sex was explosive. The last night, he set up a romantic dinner in the garden and showed me what he was so excited about.

“What’s this?” I asked surprised, holding the little box he handed me.

“It’s a gift.” He said simply, smiling at me. “Come on! Open it.”

It was a pendant, the one we saw in London, when I was visiting him while he was filming. After our first date in the airport, we kept in touch by texting, when he had to fly back to London for work, he asked me to visit him. We went for a walk one day and we passed by an antique jewelry store. I realized it was similar to one pendant my mom used to wear, I didn’t know he was paying me attention.

“It’s beautiful!” I just could say.

“It is! Just like you.” I wasn’t sure what was the meaning of the gift, that weekend in London was months ago. He saw my expression and kept talking. “I knew this was going to make you happy. I want to make you happy. Just you.” He was asking for exclusivity, and I wanted the same thing. I couldn’t say anything because he spoke” You don’t need to say anything right now…” I kissed him deeply before he could continue. I straddled him “Should I assume you want the same thing?” he said between kisses. I nodded smiling while he moved us to the seat next to the outdoor fireplace. He rolled my skirt up in my waist, leaving my butt free just covered it by his hands. He felt my uncomfortableness and said, “Don’t worry, nobody can see us.” I looked at him questioningly by his conviction. “I promised. Trust me.” he said kissing my neck. ”Do you trust me?” he asked again. I did, I trusted him, I’ve sent him nudes, told him my deepest secrets or my filthiest thoughts. “I do” I simply said.

Trusting him became our biggest issue, maybe our only one, but it was enough to break us.

I missed him.

In the car, he asked me where I was staying, and he drove us through L.A’s midnight.

“Are you seeing somebody?” he asked suddenly after I quite long conversation about my promotion and his new project. “You don’t have to answer. I’m sorry if it’s too nosy.”

“No.” I answered, and a little smile appeared on his face. “Are you happy about my loneliness?” I joked, he chuckled.

When arrived, I said goodbye and got out of the car. I didn’t hear him getting out too.

“Hey” he called. Holding me from my arm. “Is it too bold to ask you out?” he saw my surprising face and kept on “Maybe when you are back in NY, I could go and have a date.” He spoke rapidly.

“Do you think it’s a good idea?” I wasn’t sure about what to say, I wanted to yell yes, but leaving him was the most painful thing I’ve done. I couldn’t handle it again.

“I don’t know. To be honest I just really need you in my life again. I feel completely empty without you.” He spoke. “You don’t have to answer right now. Just think about it. Okay?” He said, I nodded, and he started to walk back to his car. Before he could leave me again, the words just came out of my mouth without any warning. “Yes”

He turned over to see me again “Are you sure?” he looked surprised. “Yes”

“I can wait.” He said with a big smile in his face. “I don’t think I can.”

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endlich-allein · 3 years

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Interview with Till about his life: he fought with his father, killed his beloved dog, swam on a wild river and worked on suffering. How Till Lindemann's mind works

"I will finish you off" and why you fought for the German army.

Werner Lindemann wanders around the room, interrupting the silence with strange questions, writing something down. His motive is to get to know his son and make him a friend. But it's complicated. Generational conflict.

"My island of tranquility is shaken every day. The day before yesterday, a guy pulled on my socks because his were torn. Yesterday he didn't put out a single lamp in the house. Now, with voluptuous delight, he spits cherry pits into the cat's fur. Is this grown boy really an adult?"

The apprenticeship in Rostock, where you have to do window production after graduation, is the limit of boredom. Till Lindemann moved to his father in the countryside so that he could forget about the hustle and bustle of the city and not fall under the article for anti-social attitudes. He thought of a new life, in which there was no pointless work, and arranged an attic in his father's house.

In the mornings over coffee, he scolded life that everything went according to schedule. And listened very loudly to music - electronics and metal. My father didn't understand and grumbled: “I matured late. Naturally, I wanted to listen to the music I liked, but I could not get my hands on these records. For example, my father did not understand when I bought the Alice Cooper record for a month's salary.

Werner Lindemann was a children's writer who went through the war.

At the height of his career he disappeared for weeks on literary tours - his fame spread to teachers and librarians across the country. His father pecked at Lindemann for refusing to work and promised to turn him in:

"My willful child. What doesn't fit his standards is rejected as nonsense or crap." So he took a job as a carpenter, where he made shovel cuttings and cart wheels. The head foreman constantly drank vodka during the day, didn't want to be annoyed with questions and addressed the long-haired Lindemann with the nickname: "Mozart!" This suited him.

Werner Lindemann talked about war, hard existence and limitations. For example, about a grenade splinter that remained in his body. Lindemann did not believe in all these stories - but categorically did not accept service, war and murder:

“After that I objected: “I would hide, I would not go to war. Why did you even let yourself be dragged into this? You could have hidden."

And he said: “It didn't work out. They searched for it and it took away."

Then I said: “I would rather go under arrest. Never in my life, I would go to the front line to shoot people. It's against my nature. It would be better if I went to jail."

Much of the time father and son were simply silent, even while watching television.

"He regularly made me feel guilty, to say the least, he placed himself on a pedestal towards me: I shouldn't complain. At your age, I ran barefoot through the stubble, and in my stomach - a potato in a uniform."

The only acceptance is Mike Oldfield's music: "One day my father came to grumble again. At that moment I was listening to Mike Oldfield, and he sat down and said: "That sounds interesting."

For me it was like a quantum leap: my father sits in my room, listens to my music and thinks it was good. Probably because of melancholy. He was sitting in a rocking chair that I made myself - at the time I was working as a carpenter on a farm. I, too, always sat in an armchair, immersed myself in music and smoked hand-rolled cigarettes."

The conflict was intensified by a fight. Lindemann bought a Trabant car, installed speakers in it and tested the sound - loud as usual. “Then my father came and I had to turn off this fucking music. It was kind of loud for him. He was then fiddling around his cases of flowers, and then suddenly the situation escalated. I think he slapped me while I was still in the car.

He leaned toward me and hit me with the back of his hand. I made some bullshit remarks like, "Leave me alone," something like that. That was a provocation to him, and he said: "If you do that again, I'll hit you for real." And I said, "Then you'll get it back. Because you're crazy. Don't you dare to hit me anymore."

And then he hit me with his palm again. He wasn't controlling himself.

He was exalting himself. Instantly he introduced himself as a boxer - he had boxed in the Hitler Youth - and I just... I thought I didn't hit him, I just pushed him away. And then he stood in front of me again, "Come on, I'll finish you, you haven't got a chance!" Somehow. After that, he went up to the attic and threw all my stuff out the window.

It happened over the weekend, my sister was there, a lot of screaming, serious drama. Then I packed my things, put them in the car, went to a friend's house and never went into his house again. At first I lived with this friend, and a week later I bought myself a house in the village."

His father's book is about his son, which the son will only open up after the death of the father.

Lindemann is a late child. He was born when his father was 36. The gap in their relationship was felt in everyday life and perception of the world. Werner Lindemann woke up early in the morning, worked with the circular saw under the windows and did not understand when his son slept until noon after a working week.

Lindemann's parents then lived separately, but kept in touch. Mom worked as a journalist and discussed her texts with his father. "She still lived in Rostock and always came to see him only on weekends. Mostly on Sundays she came back quite early, because she couldn't stand the stress of being with him, either."

In 1988, the book “Mike Oldfield im Schaukelstuhl Notizen eines Vaters" In this book, Lindemann Senior describes the relationship with his son (whom he calls Timm in the book), who settled with him at the age of 18. The book was written in the 80s and laid on the table until the German Democratic Republic and the Federal Republic of Germany were reunited.

Werner Lindemann wanted his son to take up writing too. But this only amused him, although as a child he wrote poetry. At the age of 13, little Till Lindemann and his father were returning home along the bumpy road to Mecklenburg. They talked about career self-determination:

"You should already have thoughts about what you want to become, boy." My answer: "I don't know yet, maybe a fisherman on the high seas."

But immediately, no matter what I said, objections arose: “But then you have to get a certificate of maturity. But then you will be away all the time. But then you won't be able to start a relationship."

There was always a “but”.

At some point it got on my nerves, as usual. And I said: "Worst case scenario, I'll just become a writer.

I still remember how alienated his face became. "And what do you think then, what do I do! It's a very hard job! In fact, it's not even a job, it's a passion. And it's a job that's supposed to be enjoyable."

I said, "I don't know anybody who works with pleasure."

"Yeah, that's the problem. You have to look for a job that gives you pleasure." Then I say again, "But some people never get to choose..." This gigantic discussion happened because I didn't take his profession seriously. At the same time, he was completely lost, funny!"

Lindemann thoughtfully read his father's book, in which he comprehends their relationship, after his death. Faked for hidden anger and indecision. For example, in a situation where their dog Kurt was bitten by a fox. The father was frightened because of rabies: “At the same time, we did not even know whether he was bitten by a fox or not. The father immediately called the huntsman. But I said: no one will enter this courtyard and shoot the dog. I'll do it myself if I really need it. At some point I really had to kill the dog."

Lindemann is not a monster. The animals he fiddled with are an important attribute of childhood. He had an aquarium and hamsters, brought mice and rats home, and was friends with dogs. “Like many children of new buildings, he felt the need for someone alive, in need of love,” said Werner Lindemann. Sometimes the appearance of an animal in the house was surprising:

“This guy will never say what he's up to. He appears on the doorstep at the same time as me. He gets out from his vehicle, throws his coat open and puts a young black shepherd in my hands. "Your Christmas present!"

Till's father is speechless. My son stands before me like the sun's little brother. Touchingly concerned, he directs me into the house, working out a plan for the animal husbandry, accommodation and diet of our new pet housemate.

With confusion, a question flies from my lips, "Wheredid you get the dog from?" "Timm" is gibbering, "Imagine, the mason in the barnyard wanted to hang him, simply wanted to strangle him with a rope, said he was a worthless eater..."

Werner Lindemann died of stomach cancer in 1993, when his son was 30. They didn't finally reconcile, but Till visited him in his last days and was there for him with his mother: "They couldn't be without each other, even though they lived apart. Unreal, but my mother never had another man afterwards. To this day she can't let go of him."

- Not going to the Olympics in Moscow and ending up in the German ghetto

Lindemann had the knowledge and the potential to be a swimmer. And a shyness that pounded harder three days before the competition than concerts in front of crowds of thousands. "I know how difficult it is to develop willpower and stamina and instill those attributes. In the GDR this was instilled in us by coaches and so-called functionaries."

Lindemann came to swimming at the age of eight and devoted his entire youth to the sport. He would get up for training at five in the morning and pass out in the evening. His grandmother watched him from the stands. At a competition in Leipzig she shouted at the coach, who told Lindemann off for a poor result. The grandmother took the coach by the ear and said: "How do you talk to my grandson?"

Sports tightened up his upbringing and developed self-discipline. “Drilling - probably the boy has already received this experience as a swimmer,” Lindemann's father wrote. - Once he had to take second place in a competition, but by no means first place. Of course, he got carried away, forgot about it, became the first, thanks to which he received a shouting for indiscipline. And whenever he lost in the future, his coach would torture him at practice for a long time and yelled at him: "Even if you win, you're not a winner yet!"

Lindemann swam the 1.5 km freestyle and could have gone to the 1980 Olympics in Moscow. Everything was ruined when he left the hotel without permission during a competition in Florence: "I didn't want to run, but just wanted to look at the city. Cars, bikes, girls. I was caught and kicked out of the team, but then I didn't give the required results either."

Lindemann competed at the European Junior Championships, but did not go any higher. After the story in Florence, his career in sport slipped away. Perhaps an abdominal injury influenced his departure. Lindemann is gone, but he doesn't yearn: "I was relatively young. There were no good [memories] left. I was glad it was over."

"The hardest part was getting back to normal. I fell into a real hole. My home was no longer a sports school, but a ghetto in Rostock. Now I stood out through drinking and fighting. I used to be surrounded only by beautiful ladies who were interested in swimming. Now I had fierce women standing in front of me asking, "How come you don't drink?" When I was shy about approaching a girl, it was interpreted as: "Are you gay?"

Lindemann now works with a coach and swims a few kilometers before his tours to get in shape: "When I exercise, I feel a certain lightness - not only physically, but also mentally. I just feel better. The main problem is staying in shape. That's where self-discipline comes into play. Teeth grinding is important."

- Three weeks in the wild and loneliness as a creative tool

Emotionally, concerts = sports:

"How do I go on tour? Hungry. And happy. It is good to compare concerts with sport. You don't want to do both at first. You don't want to go on stage. You don't want to go to the pool. You don't want to go to the boxing ring. It all happens with reluctance. It has to be accepted somehow, that's life: spring, summer, fall, winter.

When it's done, winter's gone, the blooming begins, greenery appears, it gets bright, and you start to get a taste for it. When it's over, you feel happy. Then the body produces a sea of chemistry, a lot of happiness hormones. I think the body rewards itself."

The stage, like sports, is an embarrassment, but a necessity. Lindemann wore dark glasses in order to collect fewer views from the audience. Therefore, a couple of steps before the water, he looked at the pool with a shiver. You need to cope with yourself in order to open up to new emotions.

Lindemann's gut requires solitude and moderate solitude. This is the point:

“Loneliness is always good for a creative push - you drink a glass of wine and you feel even shitier. Art is not complete without suffering; art exists to compensate for suffering."

With his friend Joey Kelly, Lindemann spent three weeks on the Yukon River. They paddled through the wilderness in a kayak for eight to 10 hours each and lived in a tent. Lindemann didn't take a tape recorder with him, so he transferred the lyrics wandering in his head on paper.

They were catching inspiration and atmosphere:

"There were times when we wouldn't say a word for hours, but then: look there, look there! It was breathtakingly beautiful. These relatively fast-changing panoramas and skies, layers of clouds, the colors.

Except for a few bears and wolves, it's hard to see anyone else out there, it's exhilarating. Along the way we saw two hunters setting traps. No one else.

I grew up in the countryside, and I have a very strong connection to nature. I love fishing, hunting. It's an archaic experience that I like to revisit over and over again. When I'm in the city for too long, I start to miss it."

To recreate situations in the Yukon, Lindemann and Kelly trained for nine months on the Rhine river in Germany because of its liveliness.

"We went down the Rhine to where the transport ships create huge bow waves. If we hadn't had a coach with us, we probably would have been sunk by the side wave impact already during our first attempt," Lindemann said.

Together with Kelly, he had four sessions with two coaches and swam from Cologne to Koblenz [more than 100 kilometers by car]. Lindemann trained separately each week on the lakes in Mecklenburg. It's both physically challenging and savage identical to being natural.

In 2015, Till started his solo project Lindemann. On the album Skills In Pills, the song Yukon was released, in which the lyrics appeared first, and then the music.

- "My lyrics come from pain rather than desire."

The country boy is big and not much of a talker. That's how the Rammstein members saw him at the start, when they were hanging out at home. "He looked cool, like a big peasant talking one sentence an hour," keyboard player Christian "Flake" Lorenz recalled. - He always had food and vodka. He'd just steal a couple of ducks somewhere and cook them on a tray. And then, frozen like in Sleeping Beauty, there were people lying in corners and on trunks in his house."

Lindemann loves and appreciates home gatherings. This came from my father, who always had guests. “In my opinion, this is the little bit that I inherited from him. Throwing parties and gathering people. Throwing parties and getting people together. He just enjoyed being a good host. The house was always full of guests from Leipzig, from Rostock, foreign guests, even from Kazakhstan.

It was always exciting for him. He stood at the stove, cooked, bought an abundance of wine, and there was always a fire in the garden. At some point he stopped drinking, then he left the party at 21:00 and the whole company continued to feast. And in the morning he got up at four, cleaned and tidied up."

Till Lindemann is about self-digging, overcoming and childish shyness, which is covered by a pumped-up figure of a swimmer. This is how Lindemann decrypts himself:

• “And I really am like a big child - ill-mannered, but harmless. People think that I am always strong, explosive. This is not true. I am sensitive and easily hurt, but in love I am romantic and passionate."

• “At the very beginning, you sit somewhere in a dark room, open a bottle of wine and figure out how to make the lyrics popular with the music. At first you only have a vague idea of what it could be.

And when, three years after recording, mixing, and more mixing, developing the artwork, all this nonsense, then you stand on stage, and what you came up with then really works, when you manage to get 20 thousand people to raise their hands, then you experience incredible sensations."

• “Art is a kind of therapy.

When I feel that something is arising inside me, domineering and is most often dark, I need to give it a way out, otherwise it will simply crush me. So destruction and self-destruction are the two pillars on which my creativity is based.

But everyone chooses this for himself.

• “My lyrics arise from feelings and dreams, but still more from pain than by desire. I often have nightmares, and I wake up at night sweating, as I see terrible bloody scenes in my dreams. My lyrics are a kind of valve for the lava of feelings in my soul.

We are all struggling to hide behind good manners and outward decency, but in fact we are governed by instincts and feelings: hunger, thirst, horror, hatred, the desire for power and sex. Of course, there is also additional energy in us - this is love. Without it, all human feelings would fade away."

- "When you're constantly living someone else's life, it's very hard to get back into your own skin. I like that in principle, but sometimes you start to get confused - are you out of a role or not yet. You're already Till, or you're still a homicidal maniac."

- "I hate the noise. I hate the chatter. I expose myself to it, which is pure masochism. And then I have to protect myself from it. Noise makes you crazy. You die in it."

• “I think there is no God. And if he is and actually allows all the misfortunes on this earth, then he must punish me along with other sufferings. I will not pray to such a god."

This is how the members of Rammstein see Till - flexible and with a split personality:

Guitarist Paul Landers: "Till is so good that when you let him know that his lyrics should go in a different direction, the very next day he brings a new version of the song."

Guitarist Richard Kruspe: “He's a hell of an extreme man. He dives very deeply into situations where I cannot follow him. Everything he does is very extreme; I don't know anyone who does it. "

Drummer Christoph Schneider: "I would not want to be in Till's shoes: his soul is tormented by doubts and contradictions, he is equally a moralist and a monster."

June 1, 2021 - Translate by Lindemann Belgium

#very interesting #till's life #till is love 🖤#till lindemann #till 2021 #werner lindemann #flake lorenz #paul landers #christoph schneider #richard kruspe #oliver riedel #joey kelly #rammstein #t.lindemann #t.lindemann 2021

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bluehairedtracii · 4 years

Text

Hooks and Coins|| Harry Hook x Reader Soulmate AU!

Requested: by @lemonypink

Warnings: Harry being cute

Pairings: Harry Hook x Swann-Turner! Reader

Author's note: Oh my gosh this took so long! I’m literally so sorry! My motivation for writing has been a little iffy lately. Buuutt I’ve also been binging Criminal Minds soo it kinda gave me a creative push to start writing again. (Spencer Reid fics comin in the future) Anyway, I hope you guys enjoy this fic as I get back into writing again.

P.S. Melody is Melody from the second little mermaid movie, and I know she's kinda not mentioned again in the fic but just know that this is y/n’s best friend and that’s who she is lmao. I also thought the Coin would fit well in here because of the movies just sshhhh. Enjoy!!!!

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"it's soon! I swear!" The night of your 16th birthday, the day your life would change.

The day you get your soulmate tattoo.

"Are you sure??" Melody whines. "I'm positive! Look, it's not even 12:00 on the dot yet- ONE MORE MINUTE!" You look back from the phone on your lap to your right wrist.

"It's twellveeee." Melody cooed.

"Please please please..." You muttered still hopeful.

Then it hit, well stung. "Ow, ow, I feel it!"

"Let me see!" Melody basically climbed on top of you and saw it before you could. She gasped "oh my gosh y/n..." "What? What is it?" You tried to pull back your wrist to see, but Melody kept it steady.

"Y/n, as your best friend, I have to warn you as to what you're about to see...."

"C'mon Mells, it can be that bad." You sighed and tried to pull away from her.

"You have to PROMISE Me that you won't freak out?"

Annoyed, you sighed and smiled "I promise." "Okay.." she released your hand. You rubbed your wrist and looked at the small tattoo, "A Hook?" "Not just any hook... Penny told me about this." "This is the same hook as the famous Captain Hook himself! It must be his son!"

"Captain? So my soulmate is a Pirate? Like Dad and Mom?" Melody nods almost worried.

"Awesome."

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"It's late Harry, your sister is gonna kill us if we get caught and wake your dad." Gill rubbed his eyes as he walked towards the galley of the ship.

"I know, but this is where the best lighting is...in a few minutes, I'll get me soulmate...well uh, tattoo I mean." He whispered and unlocked the door, cursing at the squeaky floors.

Harry turned on the lamp nestled on his father's desk. The room lit up illuminating the maps that his father and oldest sister had drawn up while sailing the open seas. He dreamed of nothing more than doing that, sailing and hailing a crew of his own, but for now, he follows Uma’s orders.

“One more minute Harry.” Gill whispered looking at the tickless clock on the desk.

“Aye, ow! fff-!” Harry cupped his hand and flipped it to see his wrist, he bit back the pain as he saw the black ink form on his wrist. He’d been confused and tried to make it out as it formed. “Bloody hell, this sure is detailed in’it?” Gill loomed over Harry's shoulder, wondering what it was himself, Gill was sure he wasn't ready for his soulmate yet if he had to endure this much pain.

Harry closed his eyes and exhaled as the pain stopped.

He opened his eyes to see the grim Aztec Coin staring back at him.

“Holy shi-” “Gil do you know what this means?!” “She’s spooky?” “No GIl, you git, She’s a pirate! and she’s a Turner...” He says in awe as he smiles down at his wrist.

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A few months later both of you seemed to forget. The events of your daily lives getting in the way. You’re training to go off on a sailing trip with your dad for a few months, and Harry is… currently Helping Uma get revenge on Mal by kidnapping Ben.

But.. you were unaware of this. Obviously.

Lonnie and you were fencing/sword fighting in the school’s courtyard (for fun) when you saw the boys rushing into the limo. You both caught up to them and questioned them immediately.

“What’s going on here Jay?” Lonnie snickered full well knowing what’s happening because she overheard it earlier passing their room. “We.. uh..” “we’re going with you..” Lonnie cut the pair off. And this is how you went to the Isle of the Lost for the first time.

They had told you the plan but left out the part about who they were going to have to deal with if the plan went south. You were nowhere near nervous. All those times you’d trained with Lonnie and your parents at the shop basically were all for this moment. Your pirate self was ready.

Mal handed over the wand and you cringed a bit. “She’s gonna know it's fake…” you turned to Lonnie and whispered. “Shh I know, get ready..” you prepped your sword and placed one hand on your lapel while the other was free to toss the swords.

That’s when everything went south. You and Lonnie sprung into action and helped the others. The sounds of metal clashing mixed with the creaking of the ship and the salty sea air made you happy, it filled you with adrenaline. It felt like you were at home.

2 people fighting you at once, then three, then none, one by one you tossed them overboard.

You were caught in the crossfire between Carlos and some other goons so you ducked under them and sprung onto your feet right into someone else's back.

You both turned to each other, swords ready, you saw him and you felt that burning in your body. The one that your friends always said happened when you met your soulmate… “Ow!” “Oi!!” Harry lurched back and held his hand. And so did you.

“You…” he pointed at you “are you…?” you held up your hand and showed your tattoo. He gasped and smiled “I knew I’d see you one day..” you said in awe. You heard Uma yell for Harry and his smile faltered into a smirk.

“Sorry lass, no ‘ard feelings right?” “Obviously.” You struck your sword first and your swords clashed with each other. “I knew you were good Turner, but not this good.” he laughed as you both turned a corner of the ship. “Thanks! Maybe I can teach you sometime Hook, You seem a bit rusty!” “Oi! My ‘eart Lass.. that one hurt!”

You snickered and he had caught you by a wood post “awe, our first dance is over now?” your eyes sparkled. He smirked ”Aye if this were different, i’d very much like to get to know you lassy…” he got closer almost closing the gap in between you two. And his lips brushed yours before you heard Mal and Lonnie yell that it’s time to go. You smiled “sorry Luv, it’s time for me to go!” you kiss his cheek and push him away into a hole that’s in the ship. “Oi! That’s not fair!”

You were the last one to leave and thought of an idea, you caught up with them and helped Mal to kick off the ramp back to the car. “Find me!” You blew a kiss to Harry and smiled, and so did he. on the inside, of course, he had to be “mad” for Uma’s sake. But right now he was anything but. He just met his Soulmate and she was everything he dreamed of.

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Almost a year had passed when you had first met Harry. And you constantly think about him every day and so does he.

He sat at the bow of the ship looking out to the ocean thinking about you. It’s all that he’s been thinking about actually. He’s waiting for the day you can be with each other and in each other's arms. You literally took his breath away, because you kicked him, but he was entranced by your skills and beauty. He dreams about learning with you, meeting your folks, owning a ship, and most importantly.. Sailing away with you to see the world. He was stuck here.

Though he didn't know that you had convinced Ben (it took a lot of convincing) to let Harry over onto the isle for a while. Your boating trip with your dad had gone so well that you also convinced your dad to let you go alone this time. Your parents knew how a forbidden love felt more than anyone else. The love between the two of them, a humble blacksmith that was the son of a pirate and the daughter of a wealthy governor who found that boy so long ago. They were never supposed to be together in society's standards, but their love was the strongest bond. They granted their blessing to you, they knew you'd be safe. You’re a strong pirate and they want to see you the happiest you can be.

You smiled and looked out the window of the limo as it crossed the bridge. Mal and Evie both came with you so they could help you find him and tell him the news. You guys slip onto the docks while Mal and Evie keep guard on the limo and watch you just in case you need back up. “Ursulas…” you smile and cross through the swinging doors, you found him and you felt the burning feeling in your body again. So did he. “OI!” he dropped the basket of chips he was holding and growled at the mess he made. He was fuming until he locked eyes with you. “My princess has come back to me?” he smiled and walked towards you completely forgetting about the fries as he kicked them to the side. “Hey Hook.” you smiled and felt his hand on your face but he backed away. “Woah Turner you ain't gonna kick me ‘gain right?” “no.” you laughed and you both hugged each other.

He took the two of you outside “what are ye doin here luv? I mean, you don’ ‘ave to make any excuses to see me, but you came all the way from the other side.” he laughed and pushed back a strand of stray hair behind your ear. You blushed and held one of his hands, but unknowingly played with one of the rings on said hand. He bit his lip smiling at your nervousness. “U-Uhm.” you were surprised by the nerves in your voice, you were never this nervous before. This boy is going to wreck you. “It took major convincing, but I finally convinced my family and Ben to let you come to Auradon with me for a three-month sailing trip…” you smiled and looked at him. His eyes lit up and he lifted you off the ground and spun you around. “Are ye serious?! Of course I'd go with you!” “Great! We leave…” you check your watch on your left arm. “ In 30 minutes!” “Aye! I need to pack!” you laughed.

he backed you into the wall. You smirked, “oi, I've been trying to do this ever since the first time we met.” He closed the gap between you two and the feeling of his soft pillowy lips on yours brought you comfort and warmness. You kissed back and ran your fingers through his dark locks as he tightened his grip around your waist. You never wanted this to end. “25 minutes!” You heard the girls yell and you pulled away and laughed. “I've finally found my Turner..” “And I’ve finally found my Hook..”

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ad1thi · 3 years

Text

begin again

for @rhodeslabs‘ prompt: "OK I HAD AN IDEA A FEW DAYS AGO FOR SAMTONY THAT I THOUGHT YOU'D LOVE. Ok so teacher!Sam with single parent!Tony AU where Sam is the best teacher for Tony kid of your choice :)". major shout-out to @omg-just-peachy for the beta and @warmachinesocks for sensitivity reading!!

i’m super proud of this fic, i put a lot into it, so please consider reblogging, and leaving a comment if you liked it!!

There isn’t a specific rule against having opinions on your kid’s parents, but Sam knows that it’s not the done thing.

As a teacher, he may know a lot about his kids, but he learns next to nothing about the people raising them. He doesn’t know their work schedules, or what goes on in their private lives, hell - sometimes he doesn’t even know their names until he meets them at a PTA meeting. It’s bad form to judge people you don’t know, and it’s even worse to judge them through the very biased lens of their kids.

There’s exceptions of course, like the kinds of folks who leave bruises on their kids - but for the most part, passing judgement on parents isn’t standard procedure.

That doesn’t stop Sam from fiercely hating Lila Rhodes’ old man with every fiber of his being.

Sam never imagined himself as an elementary school teacher.

His father was Air Force right up until the day he died, just like his father before him, and there was never any question about whether Sam would follow in the family tradition. He enlisted right before college, because if he was going to give away the rest of his life to the military, the least they could do is pay for the next four years of his life. He picks an English degree, because it’s easy enough that he’ll actually be able to enjoy college and not find himself holed up in a library - but not too obscure that he can’t do anything with it after.

Not that Sam ever plans on using his degree, but his Ma mentioned that it was good to have a back-up plan. Just in case.

He graduates Summa Cum Laude on a Friday morning, and catches the evening train to Texas for Basic Military Training. There’s no break, no pause, no hesitation about who he’s going to be or what he’s going to do. He has his orders by the end of the year, and only has time to make a quick phone call to his sister to let her know where he’s gonna go and make her promise that she’ll tell the family before he’s on the first flight out.

In truth, Sam enlisted because it was the thing to do. There was never a time in his life when he considered another path, when he was allowed to consider another path. But now that he’s here, he finds that he loves it. All that bullshit they say about the military giving you a sense of purpose? It’s true.

Still, there’s an itch under his skin, something that keeps tugging at him that’s telling him he can do more, be more - so when it trickles down the pipeline that the Brass is looking for two flyboys to test out the experimental EXO flight-suits, Sam jumps at the chance.

It takes about six months for him to retrain as a paramedic, which is more than enough time for him to get to know his new partner, Riley Evans - but when Sam puts on the EXO-1 FALCON and kicks off the ground; everything in him settles.

It’s a stupid way to describe the feeling - but it feels like everything in his life has been leading up to this very moment, Sam in the sky with honest to god wings, Riley on his left, and nothing but the open sky around them.

There’s others in their unit - in total, there’s about 8 members of the 58th Squadron, but Sam knows that he and Riley are the best. The others are good, there’s no doubt about it, but they don’t come close to the kind of stats that Sam and Riley have.

It’s exhilarating work, saving people instead of killing them, and it makes the blood in Sam’s veins thrum. He can’t write home about it, because the 58th is shrouded under all sorts of covert operations and need-to-know missions, but he tries his best to let his family know that he’s happy.

That he's more than happy, that he’s found his purpose, he’s found himself a brother, that he finally gets what his father meant when he said there’s nothing like a life in the service, son.

It’s the best three years of his life, and then everything goes to shit.

It’s a routine training session, not even an operation, and Riley’s doing loop-de-loops around Sam and generally being a dumbass. The wings have been upgraded recently, more manoeuvrability and decreased weight, and Riley’s making sure he gets his promised full range of motion.

He shoots up, yelling something that gets lost in the wind, and Sam watches as he goes up, and up and up - and then just as abruptly, he goes down.

It takes a couple of seconds for Sam to realise that Riley isn’t slowing down, that he isn’t flying down - he’s falling down; and those precious seconds cost Riley his life.

Later, he’ll hear people say that it wasn’t his fault. That there was some sort of malfunction in the wings, that Riley went too high too fast and the shift in altitude caused something to break.

Sam knows the truth though.

He catches Riley’s arm just as Riley hits the ground, his head lolled back and body limp, and rushes him to the med-camp, screaming so loud his voice goes hoarse. They rush him inside, a large burly man stopping Sam from following, and Sam stands there for five hours, in the blazing sun, catching glimpses of the doctors working as the wind moves the tent.

He stands there, un-moving, until someone steps out of the tent, caked in blood, and solemnly tells Sam that they’re very sorry, and they did everything they could.

Sam files his discharge papers the very next day.

Sarah picks him up at the airport.

She’s waiting for him outside, leaning against her car and furiously texting someone, so Sam sees her before she sees him. He’s split between being grateful that he doesn’t have to hail a cab, because those are next to impossible to catch from Louis Armstrong Intl Airport to Delacroix and he does not feel like renting a car - and being annoyed because he thought he had a couple of hours before someone was going to start asking him questions.

“You didn’t have to do this y’know,” Sam says when he’s close enough, and Sarah looks up with wide eyes, expression softening into a smile when she sees him, “I could’ve caught myself a cab.”

“That’s what I told Mama, but you think she listened?” Sam steps into his sister’s arms to accept the proffered hug, “Her baby boy coming home on his own? Like the fully grown man he is? Perish the thought.”

“You know I’m her favourite,” Sam wiggles his eyebrows, throwing his bags into the trunk of the car and making his way over to the passenger side, “I don’t get why you gotta be so mad about it.”

“Trust me, everybody and their mother in Delacroix knows you’re our mother’s favourite. There’s a little shrine for you next to the cash register. Any day now she’s gonna start leaving out candles next to your photo like you’re the second Jesus.”

Sam rubs at his chin, “You know - there’s been a couple of girls, and guys who’ve made that mistake before.”

The only reason Sarah doesn’t reach out and slap him upside on his head is because she’s driving, and Sam’s never been more thankful for his sister’s hyper-focus on road safety. She packs a mean punch.

They fall into a companionable silence, the kind cultivated by knowing each other for their whole lives, but Sam knows she’s biting back her questions.

“It’s okay,” he says finally, because you have to rip the band-aid off fast to lessen the pain and all that jazz, “You can ask.”

“I don’t got nothing to ask,” Sarah says immediately, like it’s a rehearsed answer, “but Mama thinks you’ve been hiding some major injury from us. Like a missing leg or something.”

Sam huffs at the non-question, “I got all my limbs Sarah. All ten fingers and toes I promise.”

There’s a beat and then - “My partner died on my watch. Fell out of the sky during a training exercise. I couldn’t stay there after that.”

Sarah hums, “You know what you’re going to do now you’re back home?”

Sam shakes his head, even though Sarah isn’t looking at him, “I have no idea.”

read the rest on ao3!!

#my writing #ironfalcon #samtony #sam wilson/tony stark #sam wilson x tony stark #sam x tony #sam/tony #begin again #teacher sam wilson #parent tony stark #genius lila rhodes #alternate universe

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fruityutas · 3 years

Text

heart-shaped box

taglist ~ @puppywritings , @xiaojours , @svchengss , @prettyjaems

part of @du0tine ‘s 21 ways to kill your lover collab

cannibal!stalker!sicheng x reader

not proofread

genre ~ horror, angst, suggestive but no smut

wc ~ 2.5k

warnings ~ the following writing is FICTION and has very heavy and unsettling themes like murder, stalking, and cannibalism. if these themes are triggering or otherwise uncomfortable to you, do NOT read this story.

synopsis ~ you meet sicheng unexpectedly when out for groceries. he seems to be the most normal person in the room, but what you don’t know can’t hurt you, can it?

the basis of all life is the heart. it beats so we can have oxygen delivered to our organs. it is precious and works hard to let us live. one must protect it at all costs, never let it weaken, not even from love.

sicheng walks the aisles of the store slowly, inspecting each item, analyzing its contents. he keeps his focus until it’s interrupted by a sweet voice. yours. “excuse me?” his gaze floats to meet yours. you stood before him, smiling shyly. “can i help you?” sicheng stands straight, his figure taller than you’d expected. “um, i just need help getting that box of cereal off the top shelf.” his eyes follow your arm up to the top shelf, the cereal clearly out of reach for you. he grabs it and hands it to you. “thank you so much! i really didn’t want to climb the shelves.” the giggle that accompanies your statement makes his ears turn red. sicheng is enthralled by you, your scent, the soft tendrils of hair cascading down your shoulders, your sweet smile. he feels the urge come up. one he hadn’t had in months. Obsession. sicheng knew he’d be seeing you more, he’d make sure of it. “it’s not a problem…” “oh! y/n, that’s my name.” you laugh awkwardly, the pause between him implying to ask your name a bit too long. he grins and nods before wishing you a good day.

it hadn’t been hard to find your sns, a foreigner in mainland china was rare. the pictures you posted did no justice to what you truly looked like. you’d be a good addition to his collection of hearts stolen. he doesn’t follow you and doesn’t like any posts. he has to stay invisible for the time being. he finds out the college you attend and lurks there whenever possible to figure out your schedule. the first two days gives him what he needs, now he stays just to see you. sicheng eventually gets the gall to trek closer to the actual campus, sitting on the benches of the park on the edge of it. you spot him one day, waving at him. strike one. you make your way over to him and sit beside him. strike two. your compassion was going to be your downfall. “fancy seeing you here! are you a student?” sicheng knows better than to lie, so he says no. “i just like to sit at this park from time to time, it’s very relaxing.” you hum in response. “well, i have to get going to my next class, but it was pleasant seeing you again!” he nods and sends you off with a smile, but little do you know, he’s planning the main course for his next feast.

you see, sicheng and his six friends are all what some would call disgusting and horrible people. they don’t understand though, the delicacies of the human body. eating together brings you closer, but eating a person brings you impossibly close. but sicheng was a smart man, and he didn’t need people to call him disgusting, so he prefers to keep his tendencies in the closet.

sicheng’s daily routine rarely changed. he got up, fed his cat, made breakfast, ate, showered, and went to work. though he didn’t need to work, his parents had left him an empire of wealth to live off. he got bored with no work, so he decided to use some of the said wealth to get a degree and use it. and what better degree than a doctorate in biology? he used it to his advantage, he knew the exact cuts to make, and how the body could be used. throughout his cannibalistic diet, he’d eaten nine people. sicheng had picky tastes, though. no minors, no one over 30, and absolutely no one he didn’t deem pretty enough. gender wasn’t an issue, sicheng admired both. his victims were unsuspecting, falling for his good looks and seemingly sweet personality. sicheng would usually bed them before killing them because while eating someone connects them to you, he felt as if sex powered it more.

the next time sicheng sees you, it’s at the grocery store again. he uses this as his chance to try for your number. “fate really wants us to see each other huh?” you laugh at the coincidence. he gives a small chuckle back. “well since fate wants us to see each other, maybe i can take the chance and ask for your number?” his question takes you back, and you turn red in slight embarrassment. “well, of course you can, but i’m not looking for a relationship right now, so just friends?” annoyance spreads through sicheng, but he agrees nonetheless. this would make it hard but not impossible.

for the next week sicheng was texting you and gaining your trust. you’d agreed to meet up with him at a cafe for a “friend date” as he put it. he offers to pick you up, and you naively give him your address. sicheng is getting closer to what he wants, and it’s making him giddy. the outing goes well and sicheng takes you home. he lurks around that night, though, and sees you leave your house dressed up nicely. a car pulls up and a man gets out to greet you. sicheng’s blood boils. how were you not looking for a relationship when clearly you were going on a date with this man?

the entire night, sicheng watches and follows your every move. his rage heightened each time the man touches you. you were his, not anyone else’s. sicheng clearly had to get rid of this problem. he’s done it before, and even though he won’t be dining on this man, his friends will. there is never a wasted meal between the seven of them. a quick phone call to kun, to who he gives the address of the restaurant, and the man is taken care of. sicheng decides to leave before he gets mad enough to do the job himself.

not a word is mentioned by sicheng, because if he did, you’d know he followed you. the “friend dates” continued and sicheng was as unsuspecting as any normal person, but behind the scenes, his obsession grew. he was getting impatient, he wanted to have you now. but he just couldn’t push it. you were becoming more flirty with him after the other guy stood you up. at least, that’s what you told sicheng, not knowing the man was long dead and eaten.

“sicheng, are you alright?” your honey voice pulls him out of his thoughts and back to reality. he nods feverishly and shoots a shy smile, one that hides his true intentions. today is the day, he thought. nothing could stand between him and your extravagance. you smile at him, and place a hand on his arm. “would you like to come to my apartment? i have water and medicine if you don’t feel well.” of course, he agrees. his plan was coming together. throughout the last seven years, the nine victims he’s claimed have all been to his basic standards.

taeil, the street musician he encountered while still in high school. he was the first, a quite easy job, as he was desperate to find connections to anyone -street performing wasn’t enough to pay the bills- and sicheng was just the perfect person for that.

yeri, his first girlfriend. sicheng had a lot of fun with her, she was almost always yearning for him, begging for sex whenever the chance arose. but sicheng grew tired of her constantness and got rid of her.

irene, his best friend’s aunt. she was much too old for sicheng when he’d fucked her, but she was just too cunning to pass up. her seductive nature got the best of sicheng, and her kill was his most gruesome to date, the anger of falling for another’s trick clouded his mind.

yuta, his first true love. sicheng doesn’t regret killing his lover, but the heavy guilt of what could have been had sicheng not been this way weighs on his mind at all times.

yangyang, the small cousin that annoyed him to no end. sicheng showed no emotion at the boy’s funeral, and he was the only family member he’d killed.

wendy, the girl from college. she was also in the medical department and had a small crush on sicheng. he used this to his advantage, killing her swiftly and secretly.

jaehyun, the secret boyfriend. his junior year of undergrad school was filled with parties at frat houses, and jaehyun being the president of one proved sicheng showing up to many of them. jaehyun was a whore in every sense of the word, and it extended towards men.

renjun, the only other chinese boy in his graduate school. sicheng was a mentor to him, and even cared deeply for the boy. but renjun wasn’t special, he was still just another meal to be consumed.

seulgi, his dance partner. many days after school were spent fucking her in the dance studio on campus, until one day he got tired of her. the dance studio was closed for weeks due to the amount of blood.

and finally you. you were different from the rest, you were the tenth victim, and the fifth girl. an even number of victims, something he took pride in achieving. he knew he had to do something special for you. the pink heart-shaped box he’d got to hold the very organ it was modeled after. it had golden details painted on, and the latch had a pearl on it. sicheng thought it was beautiful, and the perfect thing to hold your heart. he was going to keep it close to him, as a token of remembrance.

the way back to your apartment was filled with sensual touches and flirty kisses on each other. it wasn’t far from the small cafe you both chose to eat at, so the walk wasn’t too long. a passerby would look and see what appears to be a happy couple when the reality of the situation was much darker. sicheng was hungry, and you were the main course. the door to the apartment was in sight when a policeman stopped the two of you. sicheng hides his annoyance well and puts up an unsuspecting front. “good evening, officer.” the officer nods before speaking to you. “miss, you were one of the last people to see johnny suh last week. do you know anything about his whereabouts?” the shock from his sentence washed over your face as you shook your head no. “i ate with him last tuesday, and arranged another meeting, but he never showed nor answered his phone and i haven’t seen him since.” the officer nods and writes a few things down before turning to sicheng. “and do you maybe know anything about him?” sicheng analyzes the picture of the man he sent kun to kill, almost smiling. “no sir, i’ve never seen him before unfortunately.” the officer nods again and thanks the both of you for the help.

sicheng starts to rush along, wanting to complete the task at hand. the walk up the stairs to your door seemed endless, tunnel vision forming at the thought of what was about to go down. an evil smirk graced sicheng’s features, and as the sunset glowed down on you, he knew your time on earth was ending soon. you both didn’t get even a foot in the door before sicheng was all over you, kisses exchanged between clashing of teeth, hands roaming everywhere that was in reach. clothes discarded around the floor, not to be worried about until later. the only thing that mattered to sicheng right now was getting you in bed. he guides you there quickly, kisses getting messy, the rest of your undergarments gone. the only sounds in the room were the escaping moans from you and the creaking of the bed.

you’re fast asleep, sicheng makes sure of this. he creeps around your kitchen and finds a knife suitable for his art. the gloves he brought already on, he picks the knife up and examines his reflection. he sees himself as a wonderful human, there are no flaws in him, he is the perfect being. his trek back to your room is hasty, his excitement barely contained. he is moments away from having the best meal of his life.

his body hovered over your sleeping figure. how peaceful you looked, soft breathing, a neutral look on your face. it was such a shame that you’d be dead in less than a few minutes. sicheng took his time preparing his weapon, the carving knife shining in the moonlight. he silently plans out where to take the first stab, even a small error would result in a faulty kill. the pink heart-shaped box in his bag yelling at him to hurry up and do it. taking in a deep breath, sicheng raises the knife, but only enough to get momentum. as he plunges it into your chest, he covers your mouth as to not let the scream out. he can’t have anyone hearing this, for obvious reasons. you awake to a painful sensation. eyes still raw with sleep, you scan your surroundings as best you can, the painful burning almost too much. the figure above you looks familiar, and you thrash around to get away from him. the sleep now long gone and adrenaline coursing your veins, you realize it was the man you’d been seeing around often, sicheng. you try to get away from him, but he is inevitably stronger than you.

“you’re only making this harder for yourself.” his voice comes out deep and full of annoyance. you pay it no mind and continue to wriggle your body, though it is slowly weakening. sicheng continues to carve around your heart, and you try to scream out but the large hand on your mouth blocks it. the pain is unbearable at this point, and you find yourself losing this fight. your skin pales at blood loss and you start to lose consciousness. the last thing you hear before the dark was sicheng’s sultry voice whispering in your ear. “my present to me is the only means of life you’ve got left.”

you go limp in his arms, your heart ripped from its cavity. sicheng takes one glove off to grab the box, placing the heart inside it gently. he admires his work, standing and taking pictures to save for later. he thinks about how delicious you will taste. sicheng simply cannot wait to be fully connected to you, the excitement making him hurry with transporting you to his house so you can be prepared. sicheng calls up kun, and the only thing he says before hanging up is simple. “tonight, we shall feast on a delicate one.”

the basis of all life is the heart, and you let yours be taken by a man you truly didn’t know.

#neowritingsnet #nshitty-frathouse #unfortunatus: inferno #nct #nct scenarios #nct imagines #nct 127 scenarios #nct 127 imagines #nct 127 #wayv #wayv scenarios #wayv imagines #wayv sicheng #sicheng x reader #sicheng scenarios #dong sicheng

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koolleenxxi · 3 years

Text

Lovestruck

Infrastructures disappear right before my eyes, despite Kenny's command to speed up, the moon never leaves my sight. It illuminates the whole city, causing me to admire it even more.

"Make sure to socialize with your cousins and other acquaintances, Levi," Kenny said from the front seat. "Do not outcast yourself. There will be a lot of families later; I will introduce you to them."

"Yeah, Kenny, I got it already. I thought you don't like nagging?" I glanced at the rear-view mirror and fixed my tie.

"I do!"

I ignored him.

I felt my phone vibrating, so I took it out. Erwin's name appeared on the screen.

"You going?" I can hear loud music in his background; it is not hard to conclude he ditched the gathering.

"Where?" I lazily asked.

"Oh, no, no!" He laughed hysterically. "Don't tell me you're going to that party!?"

"Well, Kenny bribed me, so I had to go," I shrugged.

"Oh, is that Erwin?! Send my regards to him, Levi," Kenny interrupts.

"Tell him I said hello, too," he said. "Anyway, it's Petra's treat tonight, though! It's a shame," teasing is dripping in his tone. "Don't worry; I'll have girls your liking reserved for you—" I immediately cut the line.

He loses his intelligence once getting into the club. I thought coming with him once would shut him off, but I was wrong. It is fine with me, though, not until he sells me out to girls he met that he said passed my standards.

After a while, we arrived at the hotel. The media gathers outside the venue. It is my first time attending a party since Kenny didn't put effort into persuading me before. He didn't even inform me about what would happen. I wouldn't have come if it weren't for that damn vacuum cleaner.

"Ignore their questions, Levi, do not answer anything," Kenny instructed while fixing his black fedora.

"As if," then I got out of our car.

I fixed my suit and then proceeded to the entrance. Interviewers immediately crowded me. Bombarding me with different questions I do not have an interest in.

"Are you Levi Ackerman?"

"Who is the designer of your outfit today?"

"Since your parents died and left you to Mr. Kenny Ackerman, does he fulfill his duty to raise you well?"

"Of course, I'm raising my dearest nephew very well," I heard Kenny answered a reporter.

A guy mobbed me and grabbed my arms. I aggressively pulled it from him. How dare him to touch me! I'm not too fond of a crowded place like these; it makes my skin tingle.

"Is it true that you'll be the one to inherit the whole A.N company?"

What the hell would I do with my ancestors' company? I am not interested in it. Moreover, managing it. I wanted to answer him, but I remember Kenny's instruction earlier so I continued walking until we reached the hall.

As the large double doors open, it revealed a grand ballroom. It was good that the media is not allowed inside.

Blinding lights from the chandeliers was the first thing I saw. A combination of silver and gold made the whole place shine. A vast platform dominates the center part, both on left and right are the snacks and drinks area.

Kenny said that the party would start at precisely 8 PM. I glanced on my wristwatch and saw it's still—

"Mikasaaaaaa!"

A woman my age entered and shouted my cousin's name loudly, like too loud. She even bumped into my shoulders, which caused me to stop on my track. The whole place silenced after her flashiness; I feel so embarrassed and ashamed for her. I looked at her and realized she didn't mind the people looking at her. After some time, they took their gaze off of her as if it's just normal.

"Why are you still standing there, Levi? Our table is at your Aunt Mikaela's," Kenny appeared beside me.

I followed him and saw that the table we're going to is too crowded. Men in a business suit, looking intimidating, surrounds my relatives.

"Kenny,"

He glanced at me.

"What is it?"

"I will just go to the bathroom."

"Make sure to be back before the program starts."

I immediately head to the restroom. A waiter gave me a drink along the way, so I took it and finished in just one shot.

When I turned, I saw Mikasa with the woman earlier. They are having animated talks.

"Hey," Mikasa greeted me when I passed by them.

I nod at her.

The woman stopped talking to Mikasa when she saw me and then brought back her gaze to Mikasa as if accusing her. I didn't mind that, I proceeded.

"Hey!" I heard her call. "Stop!"

I wasn't sure if it was me so I didn't look back.

Clinks of loud stilettos filled the hallway of the restroom. And then I felt a hand grabbed my wrist.

"I said stop!" She spat.

What's wrong with this woman?

"Excuse me, why are you holding my wrist?" I asked.

Her hold tightened, and then she released it.

"I told you to stop, why didn't you?" She crossed her arms on her chest.

While she was loud, I had a good look at her overall look. A silver champagne dress hugged her petite, fair-skinned body. Her mid-length hair falls on her back; her right bangs were almost covering her right eye. Her almond eyes, narrow nose, and plump lower lips are distracting, so I cleared my throat.

"I didn't hear you call my name, so why would I look back?" I fixed my stance.

Mikasa hooked her arms to her and insisted that they should just go. "I told you, it isn't him. Stop suspecting everyone, Hange."

"It is because you're not telling me who it is!" She said, pouting.

Wow, now I am witnessing best friends' quarrel? I shook my head and turned my back to them.

Since we're the only ones in the hallway, I can still hear their murmurs.

"Then who is that guy, and why are you like "hey" to him?" She probed.

"He's my cousin, Levi Ackerman," I heard Mikasa.

"Oh, shoot! Really? Got to say he got good looks but his height—meh." She nonchalantly said.

People pointing out my height aren't very surprising for me, but I don't know why I got annoyed by how she discriminated me. I hated myself for that.

It was five minutes before 8 when I finally sat down. Kenny offered me a glass of wine as soon as he saw me. I took it.

"I am sorry if Hange caused you inconvenience earlier," Mikasa beside me talked.

"It was fine until I heard her pointed out my height," I sipped on my wine and shifted my vision to Hange's table. Cardboard with Zoë in it is placed in the middle of their round table. I saw her playing with the little boy in her lap.

"Oh. You heard that... I'm sorry for it too," then Mikasa looked at Hange. "She's just really... straight-forward and loud."

The program started shortly with the MC welcoming every business tycoons in the industry of engineering and construction. Several of my relatives stood when the MC called their names. When it was Kenny's turn, he waved his hand and bowed.

"Your astounding engineer, Kenny Ackerman, is here," he said that echoed in the hall.

Everyone laughed, and some even complimented him.

"You are not as astounding as your fedora, Mr. Ackerman!" An older man jokingly said.

"We expect nothing less from you, Kenny!" A woman from Hange's table said.

"Yeah, Uncle Kenny, you're the best!" Hange raised her thumbs, and Kenny winked at her.

Kenny then took his seat, laughing with Aunt Mikaela on his side.

"Flashy as always," I took a sip.

Kenny turned to me. "Shut up, Levi."

Speeches from people who introduced themselves as their company's CEO continuously went on and on. It bored the hell of me. I kept on glancing at my wristwatch and hoped for the event to end soon, but unfortunately, it didn't.

I massaged my temples after finishing the fifth glass of booze Kenny kept on giving me. I was about to stand up, but when I opened my eyes, I noticed Hange was gesturing something on me—or not.

I creased my forehead and glared at her. She kept showing her phone and putting it on her ear. She pointed out to me and then her phone while mouthing Rico. I shook my head and told Kenny I'd just go to the bathroom. The moment I turned my back, I saw a guy mouthing something to the person on my end. What's wrong with these mouthing people?

Berner was on the man's cardboard.

He looked up at me. "Dude? Can you move a bit?"

At first, I was confused about why the hell would he want me to step aside, and when I look back, I saw Hange gesturing me to move. I proceeded to walk and thought, why can't they just message each other? What are their phones for? Tch.

From the bathroom, I went directly to the garden at the back of the hall. Good thing the media didn't saw me—or just didn't pay enough attention when I passed through them.

Besides the lamp posts, the moon shines above me. I settled on a stone bench and rested my head on its backrest, I closed my eyes.

My phone vibrates, and I saw it's Kenny.

"Where are you, Levi?" His stern tone enveloped my ear.

"Just outside,"

"The main course will be served now."

"I had a cordon bleu earlier, so I'm fine. I'll just see you in the car late—"

"People are looking for you; get back here," he cut me off, and sounded strict, which is very unusual.

Ever since my parents died and Kenny took me in, he never forced me to do his biddings; that's why I am so thankful for him. Until now, I lived by my decisions, and he never disagreed with it. I have my own principles, and he respected it.

Recently, my relatives kept on convincing me to run the whole A.N. company for the reason that my grandfather's bedridden and cannot work anymore. I never showed interest in it, but they keep on insisting on it.

"Kenny, I know what you want, and I'm afraid I can't agree with whatever you guys are thinking. For Pete's sake, I am still studying. And you know that I didn't take engineering just to benefit from what my ancestors already established," I sighed. "Can't you just manage it? How about our other relatives?"

"They are busy with their own lives and businesses now. I'm sure taking over A.N. would prepare you since you're planning to build your own company, right?" He said convincingly. "Your uncles and I will assist you along the way; you don't have to worry."

"Let's just... talk it over some time," I ended the call and sighed.

"You don't have to do it if you don't want to," someone spoke behind the bushes that made me almost jump.

"Can't you do that?" I said, annoyed and still startled.

"What?" The girl replied.

"Coming out of nowhere and disturbing people's tranquility," I watched her as she took her way towards the space beside me.

"Oh, sorry about that... but I supposed you are not having your tranquility, Mr. Ackerman," she said, mocking me.

She took her seat, and I realized she's familiar.

"Do I know you?" I asked.

"Woah, Woah!" She laughed. "We just met, and you immediately forgot about me?" She muttered in disbelief.

"Am I supposed to remember you?"

She didn't answer that; instead, she took off her eyeglasses and untied her hair.

"You know me now? Come on; I am no Cinderella who changes looks after midnight," she said while putting her eyeglasses and ponytail back on its places. "I am Hange Zoë, the one with Mikasa earlier," she extended her hand.

"Yeah, her judgmental friend, huh?" I teased and crossed my arms instead of shaking hands with her.

"Excuse me?!" Hange faced me.

"I heard you call my height meh," shrugging, I said. "Doesn't that makes you judgmental?"

She shrugged and then laughed. I can't help but laugh, too.

Silence reigned between us. I looked up the sky, and so she did.

"Really, though... you don't have to do it if it would only burden you," Hange started.

I chuckled without humor in it. "It isn't that easy."

"Everyone has their own freedom to choose what fits them. They can decide for and by themselves," she started to remove her stilettos and massage her ankles. I watch her as she does it.

"Is it still free will if the people around you influenced your decision?"

"Yes, because you have the option to disregard their biddings and just continue living your life as you please, but—" Hange flinched, and I saw how red her feet were.

I immediately kneeled in front of her and took her right foot. I slowly unstrapped her high heels and massaged them gently.

"Was wearing stilettos your free will, or were you influenced by the people around you?"

I looked up at her and was astonished by how she shines like the moon behind her.

"It doesn't have to do with our serious conversation!" Hange shamelessly laughed out loud.

Looking at her from below, seeing how beautiful her silhouette is, her ponytailed hair, right bangs, the sound of her laugh made me catch my breath, the sequins from her champagne silver dress that makes her even more blinding to look at.

I blinked to knock myself off. I couldn't be lovestruck, right?!

#levihan #fanfic #writing #attack on titan #shingeki no kyojin #short story #levi ackerman #hange zoë

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matthewtkachuk · 4 years

Text

feel something pt 2 - jj maybank

On the outside, you’re a kook princess with a seemingly perfect life and a perfect family. The expectations are suffocating you, to the point where the only thing you feel is numb. You’re chasing different coping mechanisms in order to feel something. Until a chance encounter with a certain blond pogue you know you’re supposed to hate gives rise to a different kind of feeling.

Warnings: angst, toxic behaviour, poor coping mechanisms, drug usage, mentions of sex, mentions of suicidal ideations (brief), Rafe being a grade a asshole, shitty parents

Pairings: JJ x reader (eventually), Rafe x reader (slight)

Words: 2.6k

A/N: Back at it again with part 2. Enter JJ and more angst.

series masterlist

The next night there’s a party in the Boneyard. You go with Rafe and his friends only because you don’t have a better ride to the other side of the island. Again, you find yourself wondering what you’re doing here, but this time it’s even worse. In the middle of the throngs of people are Kie and Sarah, dancing on each other and laughing. You feel like you’re supposed to feel something, a pit in your stomach or maybe even a touch of sadness or longing. You don’t though, you stare out at them and you just feel empty.

Surprisingly, the boys are on their best behaviour, keeping their sights set on the abundance of pretty tourons at the party. “I’m going to get a drink” you tell them, despite your red solo cup being almost full of the beer you got from the keg ten minutes ago. None of them even look at you as you walk away.

You find a nice touron to dance with. He’s got a cute face, and brown curls you run your hands through as he kisses down your neck. Curling your fingers around his bicep, you tilt your head to the side to give him more access. He presses his lips to yours once again before whispering in your ear “d’you wanna get out of here?” You smirk and trail a hand down his arm before linking your fingers together and start leading him away.

“What’s going on here?” You don’t stop walking as Rafe suddenly appears from nowhere, but he steps in front of you, grabbing your shoulders to make you stop. You roll your eyes and attempt to step back out of his hold, but his grip only tightens. The touron you were macking on drops your hand and heads back toward the party mumbling something about not wanting any drama.

“I was trying to have a little fun, now get off of me,” you reply, attempting to shake him off.

“That’s not what you were saying yesterday,” his smirk only irritates you.

“Piss off, Rafe. You don’t own me,” anger flashes in his eyes at your words and you feel the tips of his fingers digging into your shoulders. “You’re hurting me”.

“Is there a problem here?” You turn your head, and JJ Maybank of all people is approaching the two of you, a strange look in his eyes as he glances at Rafe’s hands on you. You feel that pit in your stomach again, and give him a confused glance. You don’t know why he would bother coming over, if there’s one pogue on this island who hates kooks the most, it’s JJ.

“No, just a disagreement with my girl,” Rafe replies, hands finally relaxing from your shoulders.

You finally step back from him and snap, “I’m not your girl!” His eyes flash again and a hand reaches out to grab your wrist. This time, you’re ready for him and quickly dodge to the left. “Fuck off Rafe,” you spit at him and turn your body, making your way toward a section of the beach that isn’t so crowded. You don’t notice JJ following after you until he calls out your name.

“You okay?” He asks, following after you.

“Peachy keen!” you shout as you attempt to flee from him.

“Stop, wait!” he calls after you, scrambling to catch up. You stop unexpectedly, and momentum causes JJ to crash into you. His hands quickly grab at your waist to keep you from falling. You feel your face warm, body reacting to hands that want to do more than rid you of your clothes.

“Go away, pogue.” You glare at him, your own hands pulling his off your waist. Immediately, you feel a sense of cold where his hands used to sit.

“I was just making sure you were okay, Rafe’s a dick.” You don’t think it’s helpful to tell him that you’re well aware of Rafe’s dick, considering your yesterday afternoon activities. More than that, you’re wondering why he’s being nice to you. It’s no secret that the blond has no love lost for inhabitants of your side of the island. Anger begins to churn in your gut as you start to realize he’s only being nice to you because he pities you.

“I’m fine, I don’t need a fucking pogue of all things checking up on me.” You spit at him, acting like pogue is the dirtiest word you can think of to hurl at him. His face falls for half a second, and you can’t explain how your stomach drops with it. The unfamiliar feeling of guilt starts to swirl in your belly and you can’t explain why.

He lifts his hands in mock surrender and bows dramatically, “ah there she is, welcome back your highness.”

“Fuck off, Maybank” you hurtle at him like an arrow, not expecting the swirl of guilt to morph into a fully fledged feeling in your chest when it meets its mark. He just nods slowly and turns around back to the party. You cross your arms over your chest and start making the long walk back to Figure Eight. You don’t look back, and so you miss JJ watching your retreating form walk away.

“You can’t just go around doing whatever the hell you want y/n! As a y/l/n, there are certain standards you must be upheld to. There are expectations! And that includes not partying your life away, not making a fool of your father’s business partner’s son, and certainly not taking off and spending time with some urchin from the Cut!”

You’re sitting on the couch in the living room as your mother berates you verbally. Your eyes flicker to your father, but he’s just as mad as she is. Your mind briefly wanders to the aforementioned “urchin from the Cut” and wonder if his dad yells at you the way your parents do.

“Are you even listening?” your mother screeches, before gripping your jaw harshly forcing you to look into her eyes. You grimace as her nails start to dig in. “I will not let you embarrass our family like this!”

“I’m sorry, mom I’m sorry!” You reply back, feeling tears start to pool in your eyes at the discomfort and pain. Months ago you would have been in tears, sad and self-loathing, hating the feeling of disappointing your parents. Now you meet her icy stare and apologize again.

“It’s not me you need to apologize to,” she replies back, not letting go of your face.

“I’m sorry daddy,” your eyes move to stare at your father. You watch his jaw click once before it unclenches and he nods. You sigh in relief as your mother drops her grip, rubbing your hand against the ache in your jaw.

It’s like a switch flips in your mother, as she runs a hand through your hair and smiles, “now that unpleasantness has been dealt with, why don’t you go get ready for Midsummers? I bet Rafe won’t be able to take his eyes off of you.” You just nod and move to head towards your bedroom. “I love you, you know” she calls out to you.

You gulp and reply back softly, “love you too mom.”

Later you inspect yourself in the mirror, your satin dress hugs your figure and cinches at the waist. You had to apply a little extra concealer to conceal the marks on your jaw and your shoulder. Your hair was curled and fashioned into an elegant and elaborate updo, with some of it left to flow down your back. On the top of your head rested a crown of daisies interspersed with other flowers.

Objectively, you know you look good, but it doesn’t do anything to lift the weight off your chest. You gather your thoughts and head to the next bedroom, knocking softly and asking your baby sister, “need any help Chick?”

She smiles at you when you enter, “you look so beautiful y/n” she gushes. You just smile at her and take over braiding her hair. It’s easy to gather up additional strands to add to the French braid with your manicured fingernails. “I’m sorry they talk to you like that” she says, looking down at her now empty hands.

You smile softly at her, “Not your fault, Chick”. You secure the braid and lovingly run a hand down it to smooth it out. “Come on, let’s go wait downstairs.”

You’re almost at the bottom of the stairs when the doorbell rings. You guess it’s probably Rafe, seeing as you agreed to accompany him to Midsummers last week after Sarah had walked passed you and acted like you didn’t even exist.

You know you’re right when your mother calls out, “hello, Rafe!”. Your mother smiles brightly as she lets him in the front door.

“Always a pleasure Mrs. Y/L/N,” he smiles at her before offering you his hand. “I hope you don’t mind if y/n and I leave right now, dad wanted us to get there early.”

“Of course not!” She answers quickly, ushering you both out the door, “We’ll see you there!”

It’s a quick drive that is made in silence. You almost prefer his annoying chatter… Almost. He parks and quickly moves around to the passenger side before opening the door for you and helping you out of the vehicle.

“Don’t do anything to embarrass me,” he mutters to you through clenched teeth. You resist the urge to roll your eyes and slip your hand into his outstretched arm. “It’s better for both of us if you just play your part”.

Entering Midsummers on the arm of a Cameron is sure to bring you attention, even more than you warranted on your own. You cooly regard the crowd in front of you, noting the girls giving you icy looks and the guy’s eyes running the length of your body.

You let Rafe parade you around on his arm, stopping to speak with your fathers’ business associates, their wives fawning over how cute a couple the two of you make. You don’t have the energy to correct them, and taking note of the positive way his father is looking at him for once Rafe doesn’t either. Feeling the sudden weight of suffocation, you turn to Rafe and whisper that you’ll be right back, you just need some air. He nods back and you think you see a flicker of care in his eyes before they return to their nothingness as you walk away.

You don’t particularly want to see anyone at the moment, especially not one of your parent’s friends or god forbid one of them. That’s what has you rushing back towards the kitchens and sneaking out the employee entrance. Feeling the night breeze against your skin, you feel the weight lift off your shoulders and you let yourself relax for a moment.

That is, until the moment is ruined by approaching footsteps. “Didn’t think I would ever see the Kook princess slumming it with the working class. Thought you were better than that, above it all.” JJ Maybank stands behind you smirking at himself, obviously thinking himself clever. On any other night you’d probably let the comment roll of your back, engage in a battle of wits and then disengage from the situation.

But it’s not any other night, and it’s not just any other boy.

“I am so fucking sick and tired of everyone telling me who I am and what I do,” you snarl through your clenched teeth, manicured fingernails snagging in the knots of your complicated updo as you attempt to run your fingers through your hair. He reaches a hand out to touch you and you flinch away. “Don’t”.

He throws his hands up in a don’t shoot motion at your reaction, backing away slightly. “Look, princess-“ he starts, but quickly shuts his mouth at the look on your face.

You angrily pull a hand from your hair and point it at him menacingly. He opens his mouth again, but wisely shuts it a second time without letting anything stupid slip from his lips. Your eyes briefly flicker to his closed mouth, before quickly flicking back to his eyes. You know he noticed by the smug grin that graces his face immediately after.

You get angry, angry for the first time in several months, feel the rage bubble underneath the surface of your skin. “What the fuck are you smirking at?”

His grin only widens as a he takes a step closer to you. You mirror his steps by taking an equidistant step backwards. “I’m just thinkin’ about how I’ve got the Kook Princess all hot and bothered.”

The nickname sends a cold chill down your spine. You can’t explain it, but the words sound wrong coming from him. You don’t know why, but you want him to say your name. The name Kook princess has never really bothered you before, annoyed you sure. The snap judgements and assumptions based simply on the size of your house and how much money your daddy makes never sat right with you. But never once did those words cause you to feel the way you do now. It must be showing in your expression, as you see a flash of pity in his. So, you pull on the princess mask and let your emotions drain from your face, a small and cruel smile taking its place.

“In your dreams, pogue.” You reply, sweetness mixed with poison. Something inside you screams, ‘danger danger, get out now’, and so you open your mouth ready to spew more of that poison –

“You don’t have to do that you know.” He states, shoving his hands into his pockets.

“Don’t have to do what?” You reply, genuinely confused about where this is going. The alarm bells in your mind ring louder now, klaxon.

“Pretend that everything’s okay.” He answers softly. You know your surprise is written all over your face when he keeps speaking, “I can see the bruises under your jaw. Those fingerprints are too small to be that douchebag’s.” He lets the words hang in the air, not outright accusing anyone of anything, but yet the thought makes you sad. Then it makes you angry.

Angry because you don’t know how to be vulnerable anymore, so you put the walls back up and spin around to rejoin the party, throwing over your shoulder, “I don’t know what the fuck you’re talking about.” A warm hand reaches out to grab yours to keep you from running.

“Listen, you don’t have to talk about it,” he says, and all you can do is think about the feeling of his hand in yours. “Just… I’m trying to tell you I get it.”

You spin around, looking more closely at the cuts on his face, wondering for a second if he got them in a similar manner to your bruised jaw. The look in his eye confirms it even if his mouth wont. You can’t help but glance down at his lips again, and when you look back into his eyes you notice he’s been staring at yours as well. He tugs on your hand to bring you closer, the other hand slipping to rest on your waist. It’s like there is a magnetizing force between the two of you, as he leans down and you lean in.

Before your lips can connect, the familiar sound of Rafe’s voice calling your name snaps you out of it. You look up into his eyes, conflicted between closing the gap and returning back to the party to play the role of dutiful daughter. Before you can lose the nerve, you place a chaste kiss against his cheek and rush back towards the party.

JJ stands there for a minute longer, hand on his cheek wondering what the fuck just happened, and if he was about to kiss y/n y/l/n.

The rest of the night passes by without much incident, being passed around and treated more like a pretty accessory than a person. You can’t stop thinking about JJ Maybank and wondering what it would have been like to let yourself kiss him.

taglist: @thoughtsofthestars @dreamsndior @duskangxl @agirlwholovescoffee @previouslyforgotten ty ily all

#outerbanks #obx #obx fanfiction #jj obx #jj x you #jj x reader #jj imagine #jj maybank x reader #jj maybank x y/n #jj maybank x you #jj maybank imagine #rafe cameron x you #rafe cameron x reader #rafe cameron imagine #diverdcwn writes

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darkdevasofdestruction · 4 years

Text

Remember Me ~ Worick Arcangelo x Reader

Disclaimer: This is going to have mentions of past abuse and supposedly illegal behaviour, but considering it’s Gangsta we’re talking about, I don’t think anyone should be surprised by darker themes addresses.

Birthdays...Have always been tedious. A drag. More work than they are worth...So, I wonder...Why do I actually bother doing a party at my home?

I mean, it’s true, I get it, I’m 21, I’m of age...Legally an adult, legally allowed to drink, legally everything whatever...The same as it has been for the past 3 years...

And MAYBE it’s fun to sometimes gather around with your friends and do the same things everyone always does at parties, loud music, alcohol, cigarettes and gossips...

But there is always that annoying anxiety feeling surging through my veins whenever I have to be around more than 3 of my friends, considering this is a party organised by me, and everything has to be done perfectly, everyone must feel good, and at home, not to be left out...

I can already envision myself being the only outcast, anyway, but that’s besides the point.

It’s already evening, the alcohol is sitting on the table, the pizza boxes are stacked up in a mountain on the floor, plastic cups everywhere, ash trays placed strategically, dim lights, coloured light projectors to make the room look like a disco...

And then there’s me. Sitting anxiously on the couch in the living room, dressed in a pair of dark jeans and a long plaid shirt with the sleeves rolled up, along with some silver rings and a necklace. Casual, comfy, yet pretty elegant in its simplicity.

My friends arrived soon, very loudly congratulating me on aging one more year, fantastic...But they had a mischievous smirk on their faces...

And they brought in a tall, blond man who looked very macho, and I could only blink in confusion as everyone walked inside.

“Uhm...Who is he? One of yours boyfriend or something?” I asked, eyeing everyone attentively. “Nooo, silly! He’s our gift for you!” my best friend grabbed the man by his arm, shoving him towards me. “I’m...Not sure I follow.” I spoke with even more unease, not wanting to believe what I was hearing. “He’s Ergastulum’s most wanted Gigolo! And tonight, he’s all yours to do with as you please! C’mon, you deserve to let loose and have fun once in a while, y’know? Forget about all those jerks and enjoy pleasure like you’ve never felt before~!” my other best friend grabbed me by my shoulders from behind, putting her chin on top of one of her hands, slurring seductively. “...I see.” I muttered, looking away, trying to mask my displeasure at what I was hearing. “Anyway, let’s get you drunk! You won’t get to enjoy anything if you’re so cold and reserved with everyone, y’know? Maybe that’s why you’re always alone! Now c’mon, let’s have fun!” she dragged me to the drinks table, and we started playing drinking games like never have I ever...

Gotta say, Vodka and Bailey’s has always been a shot combination that I adore, and I’m grateful that it takes a long time to get me drunk, because these girls are wasted, while I’m not, so I can escape their grasp. Drunk dancing isn’t that fun, even to watch, and they were making fools of themselves, screeching, giggling...More or less sounding like pained donkeys.

Or maybe I’m just too judgemental and mean because I’ve been in a bad mood and spiraling since they got in my home. To be fair, I don’t even care what is the truth. These are my feelings and I’m not going to play them off as insignificant or non-existent.

Eyeing them carefully, I take a pack of cigarettes and make my way out of the house and sit on the stairs, taking a deep breath of the cold winter night air, I light up a cigarette, taking a drag and staring up at the sky, letting my endless train of toxic thoughts overwhelm me.

I was so long in my own mind that I didn’t notice the door opening until a shadow blocked my vision, and I noticed the platinum blond man sitting down on the stairs below me, resting his back on the wall on the side.

“Y’know...I haven’t been to many birthday parties before, but I’m pretty sure the birthday girl is supposed to be pampered and the center of attention, and yet, here you are, outside, alone and sad.” the man spoke seriously, with his usual light glint. “How much did they pay you?” I muttered, lighting another cigarette, realising that the other one burn without taking another drag of it. “Hmmm? What do you mean?” he asked, raising an eyebrow at me. “I’m tipsy, not stupid. You think I can’t think rationally after 8 shots? You’re dead wrong. Now, tell me, how much did they pay you and what exactly did they tell you to do?” I asked in a pressed tone, side-eyeing him. “You’re certainly perceptive, I give you that. T’was quite a lot of money to spend the night with you.” he tilted his head in a playful way. “Not only they have no faith in me to get someone to even remotely like me...They have to pay someone to do something that I dread with a burning passion. Do you even know my name? I don’t know yours.” I shrugged, hanging my head, gritting my teeth in annoyance. “I see your friends screwed up a bit. Name’s Worick, nice to meet you.” he extended his hand towards me. “...Y/N. Nice to meet you too...I think.” I sighed, staring reluctantly at his hand, before slowly shaking it. “Pretty name for a pretty girl. Wanna talk to a guy you’ll never see again? I heard that venting and letting out pent up emotions helps.” he offered, making me look at him with a weird face. “You know you’re not gonna get any action, so you try to do something for the money you earned, huh?” I snorted, raking my fingers through my hair. “Hey, don’t look at me like that. Contrary to my profession, I’m a pretty chill guy. What do you have to lose, talking to someone you’ll never see again? And besides, I have little room to judge you, so if that’s your worry, you can throw it away.” he lit up a cigarette, puffing up into the sky. “You’re...Not wrong here. Okay, fine, Pretty Boy. Imagine this. You’re not even of age, you get your first lover and you’re happy. You finally feel superior. Someone gives a fuck about you...That’s the definition of a lover, after all, I guess...But here’s the deal. Barely one month into the relationship, the person starts getting very pushy and pressures you, without you realising. Words and actions. It goes to the point that they force you to do things that you don’t want to and you’re not ready to, mentally or physically...And you can’t do anything except for denying, since they don’t listen and they overpower you. How is that, so far?” I spoke, taking a few breaks in between sentences to keep myself grounded and lucid. “Very suckish. Does any of your friends know that?” Worick asked in a gentle voice. “They do...My two best friends do. The ones who apparently paid you. I don’t know what’s in those tiny brains of theirs, but I don’t think a one night stand is going to somehow magically get me rid of all problems, traumas, self-issues and nightmares I’ve been having for the last years. Or maybe I’m just paranoid. I don’t know, and at this point, I can’t stay that I care.” I shrugged, leaning back on the stairs. “Maybe you have the wrongs friends. I heard words about you that I don’t think friends should speak like that about their so called best friend who trusted them enough with their bad experiences.” he pointed out nonchalantly, as I shifted my gaze towards him with a frown. “After today...I...Think the same. I...Just...Wasn’t expecting something like this. What more can I say. I am disappointed. And if that wasn’t enough, my second boyfriend, who was a virgin, saw my own virginity as a prize. And the third pity-dated me. Can it get any worse? Because, if yes, I honestly give up.” I sighed, ruffling my hair, obviously done with life. “Life sure sucks, huh? And most people don’t make it any better. All we can do is get stronger, carry on, and fight our nightmares.” he nodded in agreement, clearly sympathetic. “...I see you’re speaking from experience. I wonder what happened to your eye...It may sound insensitive, but after what I just told you, I don’t think there’s any more need for caution.” I smirked at him with a dark sort of self-deprecation that I could also sense in him. “Well, y’know...Sometimes parents aren’t the safe haven they ought to be.” he shrugged, extinguishing the finished cigarette on the stairs. “I see. Yeah, life sucks. I guess I can see why you become a Gigolo. An attractive guy selling his body for money...By what they said, you are the most popular. I can see why. I feel sorry for you.” I gave him a sympathetic smile that disappeared as fast as it came. “You have a pretty smile, y’know? I always thought that people who can smile despite all they’ve been through are the strongest.” he commented, smiling back. “Is that why you appear to be so cheerful? You’re strong, not only physically, but mentally and emotionally too? Wish I was the same. Maybe people won’t find me such an easy target to take advantage of.” I snorted sarcastically, making him chuckle. “It’s a pity people are shit to the few remaining ones who don’t give in to society’s awfulness. But what is a sweet girl like you doing in a shithole like Ergastulum? Doesn’t quite add up.” he asked, getting in a better sitting position. “Life happened. Dad left us, and mum is abroad working to get me enough money to go to university by the end of this year. This place, despite how scary and dangerous it is, was the cheapest place I could afford.” I bit my lip, trying not to worry too much about the future. “I’m sure you’re gonna nail it, so don’t worry too much. You seem like a smart girl, so just study hard and don’t forget to enjoy life. By your standards, not others’.” he smirked, tilting his head towards the door. “You’re funny, Worick. I wish we met under different circumstances.” my voice became lower, only to get interrupted by the door slamming open and the girls leaving the place. “Well, look at you two, lovebirds! You look so cuuuuuuuute! Hey, Gigolo, better take good care of her, got it?! The night is still young for you two! Awesome birthday party, as usual, Y/N, see ya next time!” the girls left, making me blush from embarassment, looking away. “You’ve got very sensible friends.” he muttered ironically, shaking his head. “I’ll...Go tidy the apartment. Maybe I’ll be able to focus on something else. Come one, I’ll warm up some pizza.” I shrugged, getting inside the house. “I didn’t think you’d want me around in your home.” Worick pointed out, leaning on a wall. “You got paid to spend the night with me, correct? Then you’ll do what you got paid for. Keeping me company. You have no idea how refreshing it is talking to someone with some fucking brain in their head.” I plopped down on the couch, putting my feet on the table, turning on the TV to a rock music program and patting the seat next to me for him to join. “It’s an honour to spend time with you.” he chuckled, taking a slice of pizza, leaning back on the couch and mimicking my position.

For the rest of the night, he was gracious enough to help me tidy up and clean everything, and when we were finally done, I went to change in my nightgown, taking a book and getting in bed, only to see the man leaning on the frame of the door awkwardly.

“Ah, yes, how could I forget. Let me find some larger clothes for you to change into.” I put the book down, going to the wardrobe and finding some oversized clothes in which I sometimes sleep. “Are these yours?” he chuckled in amusement. “Yep.Gotta be comfy when you sleep, right?” I shrugged, getting back in bed. “Yeah, you’re right. That’s why I sleep naked.” his grin grew wider, making me frown in confusion. “Sleeping naked is comfy for you?” I put the book on my lap, looking at him for an answer. “Did you try?” he asked smugly. “Yeah. I felt incredibly uncomfortable and anxious the for hours and couldn’t sleep. At 4 AM I couldn’t stand it any longer and I put a nightgown on.” I scratched my cheek, looking away. “That’s adorable. What were you reading?” he asked, getting closer to me. “Get changed and you can come over. I’m not letting you sleep on the couch. You got paid, you deserve better.” I waved my hand at him dismissively, only for him to leave the room, get changed, take the book from my hand, flip through all the pages, and return it. “Ah, Picture of Dorian Gray. I’ve been wanting to read it for a while, thanks for the opportunity, I have to say, I rather appreciate his monologues.” he gave me a shit-eating grin, plopping in bed next to me. “I...You...Huh?! You can’t tell me you just read THIS book, right now, for the first time in your life, by just flipping rapidly through the pages!” my expression was that of pure shock and disbelief, which clearly amused him. “That’s exactly what I’m saying, sweet cheeks.” he smirked, laying his head down on the pillow. “You...You have an extraordinary visual memory?!” I asked in a voice that I wasn’t sure was heard. “You’ve got that right, darling.” he chuckled with a satisfied smile. “...WHY THE HELL ARE YOU A PROSTITUTE?! YOU ARE A GENIUS! YOU COULD DO SO MUCH MORE WITH YOUR LIFE! EARN AN UNBELIEVABLE AMOUNT OF MONEY! DO YOU HAVE NO AMBITION AND SAFE-LOVE?!” I grab him by the shoulders, shaking him, until he stopped me. “Calm doooown, Y/N, calm down. Thanks for looking out for me, but life is life. Don’t worry about me. I’ve got all I need here. You, however, have the whole life ahead of you, so don’t waste it like I did.” he advised in a soft voice, making me look at him for a few seconds, before sighing, getting up, and picking another book. “We won’t be seeing each other again, will we? Well, if that’s the case, take this. It’s a thanks for being nice to me today...But promise me you will take your time reading it, unlike now. Rest, relax, drink a hot cup of tea, and read each page carefully. Enjoy it, live it, feel it. Can you promise me that?” I asked, handing him the book. “The Hobbit, huh? Pretty cover, intriguing summary on the back...Fine, Y/N. I can’t 100% promise you, but I will try. Are you really willing to part with this one? It seems special for you.” he asked, more serious this time. “...Maybe sometimes the stupid ideas that your heart gives you are better than the rational ones from your brain. Now go sleep, I want to read.” I looked away from him, opening my book and pretending to read, away from him.

Five minutes passed, then ten, and fifteen, all of them in a deadly silence, almost awkward, until a chuckle split the atmosphere, making me turn around, looking at the man with a confused look.

“Usually, when people read, they turn the page after five minutes. What’s on your mind?” he asked, taking a strand of my hair and loosely twirling it with his finger. “..Well...You’re a stranger. And...We’ve only talked for a few hours. I know it makes no sense to ask this of you, but...I won’t be seeing you tomorrow anyway, so...Uhm...Do you think...I'm...Cold and mean...And unapproachable?” I mutter, looking away from him. “Not at all. I find you very endearing. The quiet ones are always the ones who have the best surprises once you get to know them. People deal with problems differently, it just takes the right person to want to understand you.” he kissed the strand of hair, making me bite my lip and turn off the lap light so my possibly pink cheeks won’t be noticeable. “Great. Thanks for the info. Now...How about you earn the money you got paid? You can do that by holding me and playing with my hair until I fall asleep.” I try to keep my voice from wavering. “You don’t have to put that pretext as a front, I would do that even if I wasn’t paid.” he chuckled lightly, holding me close to his chest, his fingers masterfully soothing my senses as he caressed by hair. “...Thanks.” I muttered, hiding my flustered face in his chest. “I have insomnia and general sleeping problems, including sleep paralysis and nightmares...And the only thing that used to be able to put me to sleep without waking up in the middle of the night would be mum holding me and playing with my hair until I fell asleep.” I confessed, my voice becoming softer and more emotional. “Thank you for trusting me with this precious memory, Y/N. It’s going to be okay. Now close your eyes...Sweet dreams, Y/N.” his peaceful, velvety voice was the last thing I heard before falling into a restful and calm sleep, for the first time in ages.

When morning came and I woke up, the bed was empty on the side that Worick was and I almost feared I imagined the whole thing...Until I noticed a piece of paper on the pillow where he slept.

“You’re a beautiful person, don’t let the darkness take over you. I hope to hear from you again, in the future, under better circumstances. ~ Worick”

To that, a phone number was written, and the first thing that came into my mind was to get that it tattooed on my body so I won’t lose it. Of course, that will never happen, so I’ll settle for writing it everywhere I can.

For some reason, I wanted to make him proud, and I still had no idea why, so I only called him once a year, on my birthday, and on that day, we would chat on the phone all night, in memory of that night. Finally leaving Ergastulum to go to University and get a better life for myself was something revolutionary for me, but after over 6 years, I managed to do just that. However, there was something that never left my brain, and that was the platinum haired man that completely changed the way I viewed life and how to approach it.

And I returned to Ergastulum after almost a decade.

I was dressed in a cute dress, and this time, unlike last time, a confident smile was on my face. Even though it’s fake, I adopted the “Fake it till you make it” motto, and nobody has to know about my problems.

I vibe.

Asking around for Worick, I find out he works as the Benriya with another man called Nicolas, who’s a tag, and even better, I got his address, so I knew just where to go.

As I entered the shabby apartment that was, for some reason, unlocked, I see a meek looking woman sitting on the couch, looking down.

“Did Worick get a girlfriend?” I leaned on the wall, a playful smirk on my face. “Wh-What?! G-Girlfriend?! W-Wait, who are you?!” she shot up to her feet, looking at me with big, blue doe eyes, frightened, might I say. “You’re adorable. What’s your name? And can I ask where Worick is? I’ve been told this is where he lives.” I played with a strand of my hair, trying not to intimidate the girl...Too much. “U-Uhm...He...He’s in his room...Who are you, miss?” she asked, trying to get some courage. “A friend, I’d like to think. From about ten years ago. Now, if you’ll excuse me...” I was ready to go look for him, only for a door to open, and the man in cause to appear, wearing only black boxers, and stretching...He obviously just woke up. “Ally? What’s all the noise?” he yawned loudly, rubbing his eyes. “Do you have a cute nickname for me too, Worick?” I smirked at him, as he widened his single eye, his jaw dropping in shock. “Y/N...?” he muttered my name, making me grin widely. “Glad you remember me. It has been quite a while since we’ve seen each other...And you age like fine wine, I’m telling you...You’re a sight for sore eyes.” he chuckled softly, only for him to come and pick me up, spinning a bit, before putting me down, cupping my face and kissing my forehead, leaving me a surprised and flustered mess. “And look at you! Can you get prettier than this? I told ya, you have a beautiful smile!” he grinned childishly, pinching my cheeks, making me yelp in pain and slap his hands away. “Jerk! That hurts! Ahem...Anyway, dear Gigolo, how are you? I heard some stuff about you working with someone named Nicolas...But I doubt her name is Nicolas.” I chuckled, pushing him softly away. “Oh, yes! Y/N, this is Alex, our new friend. You can say she’s kinda...Our secretary? I guess? Anyway, come over, we have a lot to catch up on!” he guided me to his bedroom that was, unsurprisingly, messy. “Wonderful and clean, just as expected. Have you ever thought of opening the window?” I teased him, plopping on his bed that was unexpectedly soft. “You, lazy little vixen...Here. I bought it years ago, after finishing the book you gave me, and I wanted to find out more. Now, I’m giving it to you. Are we even?” he smirked, handing me a copy of Fellowship of the Ring book. “We’d be even if I’d spend the night over as well. And if you gave me drinks and pizza. Basically a date. That will do.” I told him, looking dearly at the book I got gifted, although I already read it before. “My God, since when are you so bold?” he asked, getting on the bed, resting his chin on my knees, looking at me like a happy puppy. “Did you miss me, Worick? I hope you did, otherwise that little piece of paper you left would be incredibly disappointing and misleading.” I pointed out, booping his nose. “I’ve been thinking about you since then. By the looks of it, so did you. Are you sure you want a date with someone like me? You are beautiful, you are brilliant, your attitude in endearing as hell...And I’m still a Gigolo and my life is here, in Ergastulum. Don’t regret it later on.” he asked with a more serious tone, only for me to scoff and pull on his hair playfully. “I wouldn’t be here otherwise. Besides...Unlike you, I don’t need to be paid to spend quality time with you, doing nothing but chilling and chatting.” I teased him, making him laugh, as he plopped next to me, poking my cheek. “Great, problem solved! You’ve got yourself a parasite latching on you. Good luck getting rid of him now.” he grinned cheekily, only for me to cup his face and pull him into a kiss. “Why would I wanna get rid of a parasite this cute? Now shut up and hold me, it’s been ten years and I’m touch starved.” I grinned, nuzzling in the crook of his neck. “Damn, how I missed you.” he held me tightly to his chest, occasionally peppering my face with kisses.

It was definitely worth coming back to this God Forsaken place, even if it is for only one person. There’s place for everyone in this world, and in others’ hearts, and I found my place, in Worick’s warm arms, where I feel safest and most loved.

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7wanderingpaws · 4 years

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Burn Your Bridges 01

(moodboard: bbyunz)

story masterlist

Main masterlist

A/N: sorry I am unable to put a “keep reading” divider on my phone as I am out of home for a trip. Sorry about that! Once I’m back I’ll edit it in! ❤️ hope you are all doing well and safe!

Tags: @junmyeonnoona @blanknearvana @to-all-the-stories-i-love (if you want to be un/tagged please let me know!)

>>> First <<<

DAILY BUCHEON MAIL

Special Column: Bucheon Robberies

Thefts in Bucheon are still going strong. This time, a robbery happened in a bookstore not far from the local high-school. The book's title, “How to Lie Like a Pro” was banned by the Korean government last month for spreading content with negative influence, and it was the only title that had been stolen. The bookstore is also under fire for not taking down the title after receiving multiple warnings from the Bucheon City Hall.

You were in a bar on a Friday night. Of course you would go, you considered yourself an adult and you were pretty sure the vibe you gave off was pretty adulty, too.

“Let’s have a shot!” You suggested, leaning close to your good friend’s, Yuyeon’s ear. She nodded eagerly and once you ordered and settled down at one of the tables, you got to have a proper look of your surroundings, the red and orange lighting in the room giving you a sense of excitement.

“What grade did you get for the math test?” asked Yuyeon, sipping her cocktail, her eyes big with curiosity. Although you attended the same high school, you were not in the same class, so besides chit-chatting on the school’s corridor, you made sure you hung out every weekend so that you could catch up and talk about your crushes.

You faked a smile. “I received a C with warning,” you sing-sang, trying to impersonate your teacher's voice. “The warning because apparently I’m not attentive enough.”

“Ugh. He hates everyone who is bad at math, but nice! Congrats on the C!” She raised her glass and you clinked it with yours, happily taking another generous slurp from your cocktail.

“What about you?” You asked, smiling widely as you swayed your head to the beat of the music. “You’re such a math nerd.”

“Yeah, managed to get an A but it’s still not the final mark so...” she trailed off, shrugging. “As much as I want to do well- if the teacher hates you, you don’t stand a chance.”

You scoffed, annoyed at the reality and atrocity that were high school teachers. It was safe to say you couldn’t wait to get out of high school and start a, hopefully, more free life in university.

You let your eyes wander a bit around the people��s faces, no doubt you were the youngest there. Yuyeon proceeded to talk about a friend of hers and yours, Sehun, who was already two years ahead at the Bucheon university.

“He says it isn’t easy,” she whined, “and you know he barely has time to hang out these days!”

You nodded, serious face painting your face because the heaviness of your problems was severe and you needed to drink another cocktail to tone down the bubbling anxiety.

Which you did.

“My parents would kill me if they knew where I’m spending my allowance,” you grumbled but giggled anyway as you settled down with freshly made cocktails.

Since you weren’t a drinker (yet) you already felt the slight buzz that you grew familiar with over the weeks as you started to frequent this bar. It was a good place, because if you dressed up a bit more maturely with good make up, they wouldn’t bother with asking for an ID card.

“It’s just ’cause your chest doesn’t fit our society’s standards,” Yuyeon would point out, shamelessly throwing wide eyes at your chest which would lead you to groan in dread. You hated your chest. Not understanding where you were this “gifted” from, it made it more difficult to hide yourself even in a comfy hoodie. Your mother used to remind you that she had the same chest size until she gave birth to your brother and then you. The idea of pregnancy made you always visibly shudder.

As you chatted away, you noticed your eyes meeting more than once, twice, thrice with a handsome stranger who was standing at the bar, his attractive figure leaning on one elbow while his free hand was swirling a glass with what seemed like strong liquor. Occasionally his eyes would wander over to you, and every time they did, your heart would involuntarily jump.

He was casually talking to a man standing next to him, sometimes chuckling and sometimes nodding attentively before his gaze would slip to you, seated across the room.

As you grew to be extremely conscious of your body language, you straightened up and made sure to smile more at Yuyeon in hopes to give an impression of a grown, put-together woman that you had yet to grow into. But, of course, you wouldn’t admit that, ever.

“Want to grab another one?” asked Yuyeon, her cheeks flushed red, obvious tipsiness in her eyes and voice. “I saw some handsome men in the corner, we could totally try to swoon them.”

You gave her a distracted smile, already having a plan of your own made up clear in your mind. “I already found a guy,” you said, wiggling your eyebrows at her just in time to make another eye contact with the stranger.

She hollered unnecessarily loud when the both of you stood up at the same time, heading to the bar.

You took notice how the guy gave you a look over, up and down which made your body tingle with anticipation, though to your disappointment he didn’t do anything afterwards, simply going back to his conversation with his friend. Making sure you were as close to him as possible, you pressed yourself to the bar table on your tiptoes and said your order to the waiter.

“Hey,” whispered Yuyeon, nudging you gently with her elbow to get your attention. “That guy on your left— he is so darn cute and I think he likes you. He keeps looking at you.”

Your heart giving another elated jump, you giggled, covering your mouth and turning slightly to see him flickering his gaze between you and his friend since both of him and you were in the line of his vision. “If he doesn’t come and talk to me,” you said, nodding to yourself, “I’ll go and talk to him.”

Yuyeon clapped, smiling happily. “You’re so brave. And I will follow and take his tall friend. He is, like, super tall.”

Looking back at the two males, you only took notice now of his companion who still managed to tower over everyone despite leaning down on the table. “Whew, smoking hot for sure,” you whispered excitedly and took the cocktails the bartender prepared.

Just when you turned, the tall man was leaving, swinging another shot before shaking hands with your Adonis. What you didn’t expect was for Yuyeon to follow the tall male and therefore leaving you completely alone, and now standing right in front of him, since the tall man couldn’t be the barrier anymore.

You met his eyes, and you swore your cocktail shook in your hand as he straightened up and reached for his glass, his eyes curiously gazing at you.

Gulping, you walked ahead and stopped right in front of him with a, what you thought, was a suggestive smile while he swallowed the liquid, putting the cup back down on the sticky surface of the bar table. “Hey.”

He tilted his head on you; there was something that you really liked sparkling in his eyes, perhaps interest? Oh, he was definitely interested. “Hey.”

Next part out on October 6th! ^^ thank you for reading and please leave me a feedback!🌻

#baekhyun fanfiction #baekhyun scenario #baekhyun angst #exo angst #exo fanfiction #baekhyun au #baekhyun oneshot #baekhyun #my writings #BYB

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homeformyheart · 3 years

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the sunshine of life - beckett harrington x f!mc (te)

author’s note: i wanted to write a “meet the parents” type fic for beckett meeting mc’s parents but then it turned into a pend pals/holiday fic. i didn’t particularly want to use the default mc name for this fic, even though that’s what i usually do, so hopefully the name i chose here fits. also, i suck at coming up with names of characters that didn’t have one in canon. i hope you enjoy!

copyright: all characters owned by pixelberry studios. series/pairing: the elementalists – beckett harrington x f!mc (celeste russell); minor f!atlas x shreya rating/warnings: 13+; kissing and fluff word count: 2.1k based on/prompt: i started working on this two months ago in anticipation of @teappreciationweek! the title is based on the phrase that “friends are the sunshine of life.” summary: celeste is excited to introduce beckett to all of her parental figures over the holidays and has a surprise in store for atlas. guess which parent makes beckett the most nervous?

the sunshine of life

celeste squeezed beckett’s hand reassuringly. her boyfriend was understandably nervous since today they were meeting her parents, definitely plural. she reached up and poked the frown lines appearing between beckett’s eyebrows, giggling as he appeared startled before softening as he looked at her.

“they’re going to love you, beckett. you have nothing to be nervous about. unlike your parents, who clearly did not like me,” celeste said, muttering the last part to herself.

she felt beckett wrap an arm around her waist and pull her close. “that wasn’t about you, i promise.”

two months ago

celeste cleared her throat nervously as she stood outside the tall, intimidating mahogany doors that led inside the harrington mansion. even though she had some idea of what the harrington name meant in the attuned world and thanks to shreya, knew how influential and wealthy some magickal families could be, she was still wholly unprepared for how unnerving it would be to feel as small as she did in that moment.

suddenly she was going over her appearance piece by piece in her mind, evaluating everything she was wearing against the unknown standards she presumed beckett’s parents would have. the blue and gold waistcoast and matching dress that seemed like a safe bet at the time given beckett had picked it out for their lunch date with katrina last year, now seemed to pale in comparison to what she imagined they expected their only son’s girlfriend to wear.

beckett wrapped an arm around her shoulders and leaned in to leave a kiss on her forehead. “it’ll be okay, celeste.” she nodded and took a deep breath before following him into the mansion.

just as expected but worse than anticipated, the evening was one awkward moment after another. her introduction included her nervous rambling about how she was raised attuneless and the shared looks between beckett’s parents made celeste want to slouch down and disappear underneath the table. dinner wasn’t any better given the conversations seemed to focus on advancements in magick technology that their company was working on as well as ground-breaking new research in the fields of elemental biology and medicinal magickal plants.

they were mildly impressed with the stories of how they defeated raife highmore, but that passed quickly once they zeroed in on the danger that beckett was in. it was clear that they were going to blame her for putting their son in danger. celeste couldn’t wait for the evening to be over.

“if you say so,” she said, glumly.

beckett lifted her chin and lowered his head to give her a sweet kiss. “i love you, celeste.” he straightened up and celeste could tell he was about to give himself a pep talk. “if you can get through dinner with my parents, i can get through an evening with yours… even if one of them is a source.”

“that’s the spirit! and well, there will be two sources, actually. nome said he’d stop by,” cadence quickly explained as beckett’s head turned so fast she thought he was going to give himself whiplash.

before he could say anything, the doors to the cottage swung open as they climbed up the short steps. celeste was immediately pulled into a hug from her adoptive parents who quickly wrapped beckett up too before he could protest. theia smiled warmly at the four of them before wrapping celeste up into a tight hug.

“i missed you sweetie. and i am so excited to meet your sweetheart!” theia exclaimed, grabbing beckett’s outstretched hand so she could pull him into hug.

“yes, i am sweetheart – wait, no, i’m harrington, um, i mean beckett. beckett harrington. it’s, uh, very nice to meet you, ms. sun source,” he said, licking his lips nervously and trying not to wipe his palms on his jacket.

she waved at him dismissively. “call me theia, you’re practically family!” she looped her arm in beckett’s and started pulling him toward the house. he turned to look back at celeste, who gave him a small supportive wave while trying really hard not to laugh.

fortunately for beckett, theia was filled with questions for her future son-in-law, as she so embarrassingly put it despite celeste’s protests. that left celeste with a few minutes alone with her adoptive parents; her father cleared his throat awkwardly in her direction and she sighed.

“how was school this semester?” john russell asked awkwardly.

celeste rolled her eyes. “school was fine.” with all the events of the last three years, including discovering and bonding with her twin, fighting for her life twice over, and being reunited with her birth mother, she hadn’t really spent much time processing the fact that her parents lied to her about her birth family, her magickal nature, and the fact that a madman was after her. all in all, it felt reasonable that she’d be pissed and her parents knew it.

anne russell cleared her throat. “how was dinner at the harringtons?”

celeste gave her mother a pointed look just shy of an outright glare. “it would’ve gone a lot better had I been raised with a working knowledge of the magickal world.”

john had the decency to look a little ashamed. “we’re really sorry, honey. we thought you’d be safer as an attuneless and when raife had seemed to all but disappear, we thought we were in the clear. but we shouldn’t have kept your true identity a secret.”

“i guess i understand since you were trying to protect me. i forgive you,” she said, wrapping both of her parents in a big hug before turning toward her boyfriend who was being grilled by her other parent.

even though she was sitting on the opposite end of the living room from beckett and theia, she could tell by his rigid posture that he was tense. the gentle, but commanding lilt of her mother’s voice carried softly across the room.

“so beckett, i’ve heard a lot about you from celeste. what i want to know is, how do i know you’re not just attracted to her magick?” theia asked. although she was smiling, celeste knew the underlying tone did not go unnoticed by beckett.

“because i love her! she’s smart, brave, beautiful, compassionate, and she feels so warm and i can tell my innate metal attunement is drawn to her,” he blurted out a little too loudly for the level of conversation in the room.

“but that makes sense since she’s a sun-att and you’re the sun source and you feel like celeste which was still surprising since she doesn’t really look like you, i mean, not that i can’t tell you’re related, it’s just—augh, sorry.” beckett’s ears and neck were flushed a bright pink.

“wow, harrington, real smooth,” atlas teased. “no book in the library to study up for this, huh?”

“atlas!” celeste said through clenched teeth.

theia chuckled. “beckett, it’s alright. just ask me the questions you have, i promise i won’t bite. i could make it miserably hot, but i won’t.”

“man, this is sooo entertaining. better than all that trashy reality tv you got me into,” atlas said, grinning from ear-to-ear.

“could you be a little more supportive, atlas?” celeste asked, annoyed.

atlas grinned cheekily. “nah, i’m good. i will make more popcorn though. hey harrington, don’t stumble over yourself until i get back.”

celeste could feel her eyebrow twitch in irritation before realizing that she could get some of the attention off beckett and get back at atlas at the same time with a single phone call.

* * * * * just a little while later, a knock on the door made everyone pause and look around at each other. since everyone that was expected was there already, except for nome, and he never knocked, it was natural for everyone to look confused.

celeste couldn’t help the mischievous smile that crept over her face. “atlas, why don’t you go see who it is?”

atlas turned to glare knowingly at celeste as she stood up. “what did you do?”

she barely had the door open before she was bombarded by the rest of the pend pals all fighting to simultaneously hug her and get out of the cold all at once.

“double trouble, double trouble’s mom source, mr. and mrs. russell, happy holidays!” zeph cheerfully shouted out, his arms full of containers of his grandmother’s cookies, which atlas grabbed from him ecstatically.

“i hope you guys didn’t have too much fun without us! and atlas, i hope you save me a spot under that magickal mistletoe,” shreya said, giving atlas a flirtatious wink.

“what? we don’t have mistletoe and why would i—” atlas’ confused thoughts were interrupted as shreya glided through the hallway, stopping briefly to give atlas a kiss on the cheek before making her way to the living room and greeting everyone properly.

atlas flushed briefly before she noticed the huge smirk on celeste’s face. “you are so going to pay for this.”

“i have no idea what you’re talking about, i just thought it would be great if all of our friends could hang out with us over the holidays,” celeste said, grinning before she went back to the living room to see if she could save beckett from further questioning.

all the lights in the house suddenly went out. almost immediately, theia snapped her fingers and the lights all flickered back on to reveal a tall man with long white hair standing in the middle of the living room, surrounded by nine stunned faces.

“always with the dramatic entrances, nome,” she said, but there was a lightheartedness to her tone.

“it’s more fun that way,” nome responded, giving her a quick peck on the cheek before introducing himself to everyone.

with everyone distracted by nome’s arrival, celeste slipped her hand into beckett’s and gave him a small tug. he looked at her inquisitively as she signaled toward the staircase with a tilt of her head. a few moments later, she closed her bedroom door behind them before wrapping her arms around beckett’s neck and standing on her tiptoes so she could give him a kiss.

“thank you for coming – i’m so proud of how you handled yourself,” she murmured, looking up at him.

beckett gave her his signature smirk. “well, of course, you shouldn’t expect anything less from a harrington.”

celeste let her eyes roll lightheartedly. “you know i heard the entire conversation and can tell how nervous you were just from the back of your head?”

his smirk faded into a warm smile. “you know nothing.” before she could protest further, he bent down to capture her lips into a kiss, his hands tightening around her waist to pull her flush against him.

celeste pressed against him as much as she could, intertwining her fingers at the nape of his neck. beckett deepened the kiss, coaxing her mouth open so his tongue could play with hers.

“hey, where’d beckster and celeste go?” zeph’s voice wafted up the stairs, reminding her that their alone time was limited.

“dunno, probably doing it upstairs in her room.”

celeste pulled back at the sound of atlas’ voice and winced. she knew she could count the seconds before her mother’s voice rang out right on cue.

“celeste russell, get down here right now! no boys alone in your room!” theia’s voice boomed through the house, reverberating through the walls.

she let out an embarrassed huff as beckett chuckled. “we really should be used to atlas’ comments by now,” he said, giving her one last kiss on the lips before opening the door and holding out his arm for her to take.

as they descended down the stairs she got a full view of the living room and realized everyone she loved was under one roof. atlas and shreya were sharing the loveseat while zeph and griffin were listening to whatever crazy and embarrassing story nome was telling about theia, with theia refuting and sharing her own stories about nome; aster was showing her adoptive parents how to care for some of the trees and plants in the garden with butterball and navi playing in the snow at their feet.

she felt her eyes fill with happy tears and looked up at beckett, who was giving her a warm, knowing smile. he gave her hand a squeeze and headed out to join aster and her parents in the garden and celeste took a moment to acknowledge the gratitude she felt. even though she had gotten used to being a sun-att and feeling a strong warmth emanating from within her all the time, never had she felt warmth like this. it was gentle but all-consuming, starting in her heart and slowly spreading outward throughout her body. but she knew that if love and gratitude could be summed up in a feeling, this was it.

* * * * * taglist: @robintora; @miss-smrxtiee; @eleanorbloom; @itsjustwinter; @mm2305;

#choices fic writers creations #the elementalists #beckett harrington #beckett harrington x mc #choices te #my writing #choices fanfic #choices fanfics #playchoices fanfiction #choices #pb choices #playchoices #not twc #my choices fics

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gummygowon · 4 years

Text

wake up loser | jeon jungkook

word count: 1.6k

genre: fluff

best friends to lovers!

warnings: none

a/n: i wrote this oneshot a long time ago and i didn’t really know much about jungkook’s personality and i wrote this for my friend so please don’t burn me if this jungkook actually doesn’t match up with the real jk’s personality.

clink! clink! clink!

the annoying sound wouldn't stop no matter how hard you shoved the pillows into your ears. at first you thought it was something in your dream that was making that sound but as you slowly began to wake up the clinking never came to a stop.

you mumbled a curse under your breath as you got up to look out your window. usually if you heard a weird sound coming from outside your room you would be shitting yourself but you were too tired and angry to be scared. whatever demon that was outside was about to get their ass kicked back to hell.

you pushed your window curtains to the side a little too roughly and rubbed the fatigue away from your eyes. "jungkook?"

you immediately flung your window open. he was standing on your driveway with a handful of pebbles in his palm. it was a miracle he didn't shatter your window.

"oh my god finally." your best friend rolled his eyes. "you're such a pain in the ass to wake up."

"jungkook, what the fuck do you want." you grumbled. you tried your best to not wake up the whole goddamn neighborhood since it was who knows how late it was in the night or fuck, how early it was in the morning.

"just come down. i wanna show you something."

it was summer now which meant that you were back at your parents for the time being. you missed your family greatly but now you just wanna escape back into your dorm. your mom's usual nagging was getting to you and you needed a break even if it was just for a day.

but being back at your parent's house meant that you would see your childhood best friend, jeon jungkook.

you guys would do everything with each other when you were younger. hanging out at the community pool or even playing tag with the other neighborhood kids. oh how you wished to be a child again.

but, now you were an adult going to college and partying and doing other adult stuff. you kept in touch with jungkook but not as often as you wanted. the both of you guys were incredibly busy with school and work so a long phone call every weekend would have to do until now.

if jungkook had waited like four more hours you would sprung out of your bed so fast to hang out with him. but you were rudely awakened from your slumber and sleep was hard to come across in college so you had to take advantage now.

"why? it's literally so early." you whined.

"my mom made strawberry milk yesterday and i have some left over." he bribed.

"oh, say less." any anger or fatigue left your body as soon as he mentioned strawberry milk. jungkook's mom made the world's best strawberry milk and it was a shame that not everyone could try her delicious beverage.

you quickly got ready and grabbed a hoodie from your pile of clothes that were sitting on a chair. you didn't even dare to change out of your pajamas. the warmth that it provided was too good to be substituted for a wack ass pair of cold jeans.

you slipped out our window as if it wasn't your first time sneaking out. you were an adult now, your parents shouldn't really care about why you weren't home in the morning.

when you jumped down from your window, you swatted the tiny dust particles off yourself before turning to jungkook. "well, where we going captain?"

"this way, m'lady." he stuck out his arm for you to loop through, which you gladly did.

you've always this tiny crush on jungkook. it was bound to happen at some point but you never did anything about it and secretly hoped it went away. but your crush on him became even bigger during your senior prom when your trashy ex dumped you right there and then proceeded to start grinding up on one of your "friends."

jungkook was there for you throughout the whole thing. you were balling on his blazer and apologized many times and try to pull your head away to stop your runny makeup from ruining his jacket but he pulled you in closer to him and told you it was fine. he didn't really care if his prom outfit was ruined, all he cared about was you. the prom was ass anyways.

in an effort to make you feel better, he took you to in-n-out. the two of you guys ate your burgers while singing karaoke in his mom's old mini van. without jungkook, you were sure prom would've been a complete disaster. well, it definitely was but he made it better.

since then, you had your fair shares of hook ups and dates while in college. no one had met your incredibly high standards. in other words, no one was jeon jungkook but you would never admit it out loud.

you didn't want to ruin your friendship with him over your dumb feelings for him. plus, you didn't know what he was up to in his own love life. it's been awhile since the two of you actually sat down in person and properly caught up.

after walking in what seemed like fifteen minutes, you guys had arrived at this old park you guys used to hangout while growing up.

"oh man, i haven't been in here forever." you gasped, a big grin spreading across your face. memories flooded your brain.

jungkook looked over to you and couldn't help but smile too since you were so excited.

you let go of his arm and started running towards the tiny hill. "race you."

"hey! you got a head start." jungkook whined as he dashed towards you.

you actually ended up winning the race surprisingly but since jungkook was a sore loser he tackled you to the floor.

"you cheated!" he shouted as he tickled you.

"no-stop please- i did not." you argued between in laughs.

you managed to wrestle jungkook and ended up straddling him with his arms pinned down by you. he made eye contact with you and you could feel you heart do twenty somersaults.

if you guys were kids, it wouldn't be awkward but since you guys were almost twenty years old and since someone had a little crush, there definitely was tension.

you awkwardly coughed to get rid of the silence. "i win though." you fought back as you slid off him.

"yeah, sure. whatever works for you." he chuckled.

"it's not my fault ,you're so slow jk."

he put a hand over his chest, pretending to be hurt. "how dare you say such things about me."

you rolled your eyes at his playfulness and shoved him lightly, "shut up."

the two of you guys fell into silence as you surveyed the world in front of you. a lot has changed but jungkook didn't change one bit.

"so, how's life?" you asked, breaking the peaceful silence. if nothing was going to happen, you were going to fall asleep.

"i thought you wanted me to shut up?" he fired right back.

you threw your hands up in the air, "just answer the question or i'm walking back home."

"alright, alright. i will."

for the next hour or so, the two of you caught up on everything. from friends to school life to the latest work drama. jeez, there was so much to talk about that you guys couldn't cover in your monthly phone calls. it was nice to catch up with him though. you missed him a lot. talking through screens wasn't the same as being next him.

the sun was about halfway in the sky and the clouds were painted a dusty pink. jungkook had whipped out the infamous strawberry milk, much to your delight and you guys sipped in silence with the occasional moment of bringing up old memories.

you were sipping your drink while deep in your thoughts. a surge of confidence came and it dared you to confess your true feelings to your best friend. you don't know where it came from but you weren't no pussy. you stared at the pink sky and a smile formed on you lips as you thought about the what if's with him.

you could feel jungkook's stare on you so, you turned to look at him. "what?"

he had this lovestruck look on his face. a look you've never really seen out of all the years you've known him.

now, jungkook also had a fat crush on you but was too scared to make a move. he thought he lost you when you got a boyfriend in high school but look at how that turned out. he was secretly happy that the two of you didn't work out but he would never confess that to you.

i swear there was something in the air because jungkook also had a surge of confidence that dared him to confess too. the timing was perfect. actually, everything was perfect. the sky was a pretty pink, you were happy which made him even happier.

his mind couldn't stop thinking about how cute you looked in your pajamas and messy bun. he was grateful that you could be comfortable with him and that you didn't care what you looked like in front of him. to him you were just right.

"i love you." he confessed. jungkook was practically sweating as soon as those words left his mouth. he didn't actually mean to confess like that or did he? "i mean-"

"just kiss me, you loser." you cut in.

jungkook smiled before pulling you in.

you tasted like mint toothpaste and strawberries.

#jeon jungkook #jungkook #jungkook oneshots #kpop oneshots #jungkook oneshot #jungkook fluff #jungkook scenarioes #bts oneshots #bts oneshot #bts imagines #bts scenarios #bts fluff #kpop fluff #kpop imagines #kpop fluff oneshots

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tripleaxeldiaz · 4 years

Text

all was golden when the day met the night

chapter 1/5

for @hearteyesforbuck (it’s for EVERYONE but definitely for eli)

read on ao3

Eddie’s bad at words.

He can talk, of course, will happily go on for hours about how great Christopher’s latest art project is, can give a sermon about the Rangers’ chances of winning the World Series. But when it comes to discussing what’s happening in his brain, the gloomy, sticky parts that follow him around and keep him awake, he clams up. Keeps them locked in because it’s easier than exposing to anyone just how gross it all is, how dark everything is, how dark he is. He wants to talk about things, he does. Wants to make sure Chris knows that he should talk about his feelings, especially the bad ones. And he does his best to be open with him as well, but he’s the only one he seems to be able to do that with. Anyone else — his parents, Abuela, Shannon — he just...can’t. He’d rather save them the trouble.

Eddie’s bad at words, but he’s good at flowers.

He partially blames Abuela for making him spend hours with her in her garden when he was a kid. She taught him different planting methods, how to cut the flowers so they stayed alive longer, and a few basic meanings she learned from Good Housekeeping. After his first tour, they didn’t have the money for him to even try and get into med school, so he got a job at a local flower shop to help with their landscaping team. The owner, Mrs. Negrelli, saw he was better with the roses than the mulch and took him under her wing, teaching him everything she knew. When she retired shortly after Shannon left, she handed him a check with a lot of zeros and said, “It’s time to go plant your own seeds.”

So he did. The Greenhouse has been up and running for just over a year, and it may very well be the best year Eddie’s had in a long time. They’re in a small plaza just outside of LA proper, with an apartment above the shop that makes early morning deliveries much less horrible. Chris is doing great in school (“very popular and excellent in all subject areas”, according to his homeroom teacher) and he’s made some good friends with the other local business owners. It’s the peaceful, quiet life he always dreamed of having when he finally got out of the Army.

Peaceful except for—

“Morning, Diazes!”

“Dad! Buck’s here!”

Eddie pokes his head through the doorway from the back room in time to see his son crash into his friend’s legs, Buck scooping him up and throwing him over his shoulder. Chris laughs loudly, echoing through the whole shop, and starts talking animatedly about his latest drawing when Buck sets him on the counter. He listens intently, throwing a wink towards Eddie when he catches him lingering a few feet away.

As usual, Eddie has to school his face into something other than heart eyes as he watches the two chat. Buck’s in his standard uniform of ripped black jeans that hug his thighs in all the right places and a t-shirt featuring some grungy rock band he’s never heard of. He’s a stark contrast against the rows of hyacinths and magnolias currently on the wall, and Eddie feels a blush rise on his cheeks as he tries (and fails) to stop staring.

When he first met Buck, he was pretty sure he was getting robbed. When a six foot whatever stranger in all black and combat boots and covered in tattoos comes barreling into your newly opened flower shop, that’s kind of the first place your mind goes. He had 9 and 1 dialed on his phone before the stranger ran up to the counter and frantically asked, “What kind of flowers can I buy to apologize to my very intimidating adoptive mother for sideswiping her brand new car?”

Eddie figured an actual criminal would have bigger problems to worry about than his mom’s Nissan.

They formally met the next day, when Buck came to thank him for the bouquet (a small arrangement of broom for humility and common rue for regret; all the yellow tended to make people happier and more likely to forgive you for being a dumbass). He told Eddie he could come by the shop anytime for a tattoo, on the house.

He’d been in Armageddon Tattoo when he was first looking for a space, had met Maddie, the co-owner, and Chimney, their head artist. If he had known the other co-owner looked like Buck, he would have signed the lease much faster. Faster still once he saw how quickly and easily he and Chris got along.

A year on and Buck’s in the shop almost every day, either to buy a bouquet or to give Chris tips on a drawing or to complain about an annoying customer who changed their mind about a design after it was halfway done.

For all the peace that Eddie’s found, Buck is the one chaotic spot that keeps his reflexes in check. He’s a microburst, a runaway firework, an ATV rolling through a field of wildflowers. He blasts his music as he drives in in the mornings, and he opens doors so hard they almost fall off their hinges.

Eddie is painfully, unbearably in love with him.

Which is funny, really, because his whole life, Eddie has always been “the good guy” or “the good son” or “the good soldier”. He was homecoming king, set multiple records on courses in Basic, and became Staff Sergeant quicker than any of his superiors had seen in years. He was always by the book, always tried to be the best, and he usually was the best.

Until he wasn’t. Until his brain was so full of sadness and horrors that it was a battle to get out of bed each day. Until he was missing so much of Chris’s life that he might as well not have been in his life at all.

Until he wasn’t enough.

His marriage crumbled from there. He knew any path he and Shannon tried to take to move forward would be foggy with the guilt of all he hadn’t done in the past to help their family, so when she left, he didn’t go after her. And that guilt — knowing that he could have fixed it if he tried, if he had just been better — follows him wherever he goes now. He second guesses himself with Chris all the time because he knows one wrong move will lead to whispers among the PTA moms about the single dad who isn’t doing it right. He almost withdrew his lease application for the shop four times because he was constantly worried that it wouldn’t work, that he’d invest all this money and time and effort and it wouldn’t matter. He had done things by the book for so long because that was supposed to be how he succeeded. But now the books are empty and he’s in free fall, hoping he finds a soft landing before splatting on the asphalt.

When he met Buck, the complete antithesis to doing anything “by the book”, a voice whispered in his head that’s your landing. He’s the opposite of everything Eddie knew how to be, and that was thrilling to see. Freeing. To see someone living a happy life by making their own way and not giving a shit what anyone else thought. Not to mention that he was gorgeous, a gentle soul armored in chains and ink, and so unabashedly himself that he drew everyone to him like a magnet.

So Eddie fell, hard but quietly. Because on top of all that, Buck is the best friend he’s made since moving to LA, and he’ll be damned if he screws that up for himself or for Chris.

He finally gets himself moving to the counter, pulled by that damn magnet, where Buck is now showing Chris his latest tattoo — a small skull with a string of roses weaving in and out of the eye sockets and mouth on his right bicep.

“Does it mean anything?” Chris asks, running a small finger over it, taking in the detail.

“Chim says so, went on and on about how it symbolizes life after death and blah blah blah. I just thought it looked cool.”

“Peach blossoms would have been better.” Eddie mutters absently, eyes glued to Buck’s arm and the pale skin under the ink. He blinks as his words register, meeting Buck’s eyes and internally wincing. Thankfully, Buck just looks amused, not mad. “They’re a sign of longevity and immortality in some Eastern cultures. Would’ve fit the life after death idea a little better.”

“See, this is why I need you and your flower wisdom on retainer at the shop. You’d save me a lot of time researching, and our stuff would be even cooler because it would make sense.” He leans down to stage-whisper to Chris. “Between you and me, I think roses are the only flowers Chim knows how to do anyway.” Chris giggles, and Eddie huffs out a laugh too.

“Any real flowers today, Buck?” Eddie asks. He grabs the craft paper, already knowing the answer.

“Of course! Whatever feels right to you.”

Buck gets a bouquet for the shop about once a week, claims they’re good for inspiration and help some of the more nervous clients relax among the black leather chairs and tattoo guns. Sometimes he has very specific requests (“I just want orange. Like so much orange you could die.” or “Someone asked for tulips on their arm, can I get those in every color so I can practice?”), other times he tells Eddie to put together “whatever feels right”. At first, Eddie never put too much thought into those, just used whatever he was running low on and still looked okay together. But one day, one particularly dark day, when all Eddie was doing was feeling, he took Buck’s words to heart. It was a pretty morbid bouquet — cyprus for despair, peonies for the anger that never seemed to leave him, vervain as a plea to whoever was listening to protect him from the evils of his own mind. His internal mess must have been written all over his face too, because when he handed the flowers to Buck, he just looked at him for a while, like he could feel the sadness that Eddie had physically given him, like he knew the weight of what he was holding, even though Eddie knew he didn’t really. When he said thank you, it was more sincere than usual, laced with something like empathy that Eddie wasn’t ready to look at too closely.

Buck kept those flowers alive for three weeks, said he just couldn’t bear to let them go.

Luckily for everyone, Eddie is in a much less terrible place this week. With his son’s laughter still floating in his mind, he puts together crocuses and daisies, youthful joy and innocence, and ties them together with a dark blue ribbon, Chris’s favorite color. He wraps them in paper and hands them to Buck, who beams as he helps Chris down from the counter.

“Oh, these are beautiful. Almost as beautiful as the man who arranged them.” Eddie feels his cheeks get red and sees Buck’s smile turn smug. “How much do I owe for this masterpiece?”

“Please, you haven’t paid for anything here in months.” Eddie stopped charging while he was only using almost bad flowers, and told Buck as much. He just didn’t tell him when he started using the good stuff.

“I know, but I’m a gentleman, I always have to try. Remember that when you’re older, buddy.”

“I will.” Chris replies. “Dad, we’re gonna be late for school.”

“Okay okay, go grab your backpack.” Chris heads towards the back room as Buck heads towards the front door.

“Well, I’m off to stab people with needles for fun. See you later, boys! Bye Hen!”

Eddie whips his head around and sure enough, there’s Hen, leaning on the far side of the counter, looking far too smug for Eddie’s liking.

“When did you get here?”

“My shift started 20 minutes ago, boss. Glad I got here in time for the show.”

“The show?”

“Yeah, the show. You really should get an Oscar or something for how hard you act like you’re not head over heels for that man.”

Eddie’s jaw drops and Hen cackles. He doesn’t even have time to explain himself before Chris returns with his backpack and starts shoving Eddie towards the door.

“Don’t worry,” Hen calls as she opens the register for the day, “at least you’re cute when you blush!”

Eddie pointedly ignores Chris’s questioning look as he drives, his face and neck still blazing.

He can only hope Buck is less perceptive than Hen. If not, they’re going to have to move cities. Maybe countries. Maybe to the moon.

#buddie #evan buckley #eddie diaz #buddie fic #9-1-1 fic #9-1-1 #9-1-1 fox #SHE'S HERE FINALLY #i'm updating it every week!!#ficcery #the flower shop

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buckevantommy · 3 years

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'(Un)Happiest Season' review

Simply put, it wasn't enjoyable as a romance or a comedy or a Christmas flick. It failed on many fronts, but this reviewer from Salon.com puts the thing into words for Happiest Season's main failings:

What's bad: There were two main criticisms of "Happiest Season." The first being: Can't LGBTQ audiences have a holiday movie where the main plot isn't about mining the anxiety and trauma associated with coming out, being closeted and casual homophobia? Then there's the fact that Harper really is just kind of the worst. After pushing Abby back in the closet, Harper ditches her in a town where she doesn't know anyone to go drink with her ex-boyfriend until two in the morning, then proceeds to call Abby "suffocating" when called on it. It's a pattern of s**ty behavior that is pervasive and present throughout the movie, so her redemption arc doesn't feel super genuine.

Why can't we have main queer characters in Christmas movies without their presence being all about their queerness? We want fluffy festiveness, dammit! They could've made Harper less selfish and more attentive while still playing into the *I'm not out yet Because Reasons so we need to hide our gay relationship* trope, but they didn't. Who knows why, but what a waste. 🎄👩‍❤️‍👩☃️

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^ Look at that trailer and tell me you don't expect Misunderstandings with fun and tropey antics + Domestic Christmas Shenanigans + Comfort for Hurt! You will be sorely disappointed. 😞

NOTE: The flick does have a few good moments. And it's probably worth the watch just to see what's missing/mishandled when it comes to queer characters and queer romances in mainstream movies.

But it's not really fun or funny or heart-warming - where are the snowball fights? Insightful conversations? Christmas elements like eggnog/spiced wine, candycanes, mistletoe? Where are the many colourful side characters and the hungover brunches? We get one scene of ice-skating for a few minutes and it's wasted on sibling rivalry bs rather than, say.. Abby and Harper skating together but not being aloud to touch—omg the tension!! 😍

There's just not enough comfort for the hurt Abby (Kstew) goes through; the film wholly lacks those warm-n-fuzzy Christmas vibes; there's just way more wrong with it than is right with it - which sucks, because this had the potential to be such a great movie if only Harper was written as less ignorant/selfish and we'd gotten more enjoyable family interactions and more festive fun - like a celebration in town. Instead we get a few limited shots of the adorable town, a crappy bar, and an OTT fancy Christmas party for performative rich white folk on a career path for power and "perfection" (ie. wholesome family values).

The story they went with was definitely better suited for a dramatic film, so in a romcom setting it really didn't work. Plus the side-characters were flat; we needed more depth from the supporting characters, more meaningful interactions.

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^ Look at those intro credits!! Look at all the domestic happy moments and tell me you don't want to see a movie filled with such fluffy festive goodness!! Well, if you don't want to see such moments, don't worry because you won't. I naturally thought we were going to get this kind of romantic-and-non-romantic happiness dispersed throughout the entire film, but no. Not a one. There's 5 minutes of Happy Couple at the start, and that's it 📸☹️ (unless you count a photo collage of the happy ending and year that follows stuffed into the end credits).

BTW: That intro song is the most Christmasy song in the whole movie. The soundtrack features modern pop songs which 1) don't help set the festive vibe and 2) are really fucking annoying; the song choices are grating, not pleasant, not enjoyable, and they overpower the scenes with a whole lotta noise. I really wish we'd gotten more tunes like the one above. 🎶

About the image below—Abby is actually miserable the entire time, getting worse by the day, barely a smile seen on her.. while Harper is the one schmoozing her family and contacts with teeth bared, so.. this image isn't what you'll get, just fyi:

(also: the only POC actors they had were the perfectionist-stone-faced-bitch's husband and his girlfriend - wife + hubby being secretly separated.)

The things that the Salon reviewer liked are the same things I did (see below), but imho even those elements weren't enough to save this film from being:

an infuriating 102 minute-comedy of errors buoyed by a healthy dose of gaslighting

More cons of the flick are pointed out by denofgeek.com:

Some of its issues come from the structure of the film, which shoehorns very real queer struggles into wacky rom-com tropes too fluffy to contain the stakes at hand. Meanwhile the choice to have one half of the lead couple be so aggressively and repeatedly cruel—while her high school ex Riley, played by the ever-perfect Aubrey Plaza was standing right there having all the chemistry in the world with the other romantic lead—was a fatal one.

It really was a dramatic plot idea crammed into a fluffy narrative. You can see the conflicting genres fighting to stay alive and they both die a slow, agonisingly dull death throughout the film. The whole *Abby being converted to loving Christmas by Harper inviting her to spend the holidays with her family* thing, only to have Harper force their relationship + Abby into the closet. Straight conversion much? I'm 100% sick of heteronormative bs in my queer Christmas films.

For the most part, when you're not feeling for Abby's harsh treatment by her would-be fiance and everyone but Riley ignoring her completely, you will be bored af from the lack of festive cheer - not just twinkle lights and boisterous seasonal music, but those good ol' homey family Christmas vibes. With the Harper house + family members, everything's a performance, so that lack of sincerity and warmth makes for a depressing viewing experience:

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^ Jane (one of Harper's 2 sisters) is the only character allowed to be consistently genuine in the narrative (aside from John, but he's restricted mostly to phonecalls, and Riley - but even she's keeping Harper's secrets). Jane is the only character who is naturally vibrant and reminds us of some of the reasons we get excited about Christmas movies: to feel joy and to enjoy the company around us during the holiday season! 🎄☃️🥳 But rather than give us a fun day out with Jane + Abby, we get Abby + the second sister (i don't even remember her name, just BitchFace) which leads to more bad treatment of Abby - this time by two spoiled af no-smile rich kids. *le sigh* Jane carries the spark of honest joy for the entire Harper clan and that is TOO MUCH to expect of one character, let alone a side-character. 😪

There are so many ways the story could've been tweaked to make more sense and be somewhat enjoyable, including:

The orphan!Abby thing is just bad. Rather than give Abby a voice, chances to let her personality shine, almost everyone interacts with her to merely briefly express their condolences for her long-dead parents 🙄

Abby is a pet-minder, ie. she's an animal lover, yet at no point do we see her interact with animals! Not a dog or cat or hamster, no reindeer at the petting zoo, nothing. 🐕🐈🦎🦜🐠

Riley + Abby getting together (even just a kiss) 👄

Abby + Harper separating so Harper can get her shit together - and then we get several flashforward shots of them separately living their lives (Harper especially), and then meeting back up again - maybe the next holiday season, after some much-needed time apart 🏃‍♀️🤸‍♀️

side characters who engage with Abby in a sincere, meaningful way instead of ignoring her (again, we got Riley, but she was outside of the family dynamic) 😊

MORE FESTIVE CHEER! where were all the staple Christmassy passtimes, the smile-inducing season-specific experiences??? 🎉