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cameronspecial · 5 months

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The First Son And The First Spare

Pairing: FSOTUS!Rafe Cameron x Princess!Reader

Warnings: Panic Attack, Swearing, Mentions of An Attempted Murder, and SMUT.

Pronouns: She/Her

Word Count: 10.1K

Summary: Just because they are the children of world leaders, it doesn't mean that Y/N and Rafe have to like each other. But what happens when they have to get along with each other for the sake of their countries?

A/N: This is inspired by Red, White, and Royal Blue.

Masterlist

The traditional wedding march plays as Y/N watches her soon-to-be sister-in-law walk down the aisle. However, Y/N’s eyes can only see one person. She narrows in on the rude, egotistical, pain in her ass, who also happens to be the First Son of the United States. What she wouldn’t do to bash his head in with her bouquet? Unfortunately, it would be unbecoming of the Princess of England. Fiona finally makes it in front of Y/N’s brother, Prince George. The ceremony begins and Y/N feels as though time slows down. The only thing that can keep her sane is the hateful glares she sends Rafe. She prays no cameras to capture her un-Princess-like scowl. After an hour and fifteen minutes, George and Fiona kiss and leave the chapel. Y/N follows her siblings into the open air, catching Rafe’s gaze as she passes his pew.

———

Greeting guests is one of Y/N’s duties for today as well as maintaining her family's reputation. While the newlyweds enjoy a moment in private, Princesses Y/N and Amelia exchange pleasantries with all the arriving guests. “I may not be into men, but I get why girls desperately fawn over him,” Amelia whispers to her sister while waiting for the Canadian Prime Minister and his wife to approach. Y/N addresses the foreign leader with a shake of her head before addressing her sister, “Thank you for coming, Prime Minister. Who are you talking about, Lia?” The younger girl’s flicks her eyes over to the next people in line. Y/N follows Amelia’s eyeline to Rafe. She lets out a low scoff, “You have to be insane to say that.”

“Right, I forgot you have this irrational feud with him.”

“It is not irrational. It is not my fault that he likes to bother me like a schoolboy. He is immature and a playboy.”

“Y/N/N, it’s called flirting. How can you not understand that he is delicious? I mean look at those ocean-blue eyes.”

“Being annoying is not flirting. I really do not understand the attraction of him. My Phelan is handsome and gentlemanly. That is attractive. Not whatever Rafe is.”

Y/N shouldn’t lie to her sister, but she would rather be stuck in a room with her most conservative relatives than admit to finding Rafe hot. Little do the two royals know two children of a president are also having a similar conversation. “What did I do to Dad to make him send me here? He knows I hate England. Wheezie would kill to be here with you,” he mumbles to Sarah. She gives him a teasing smile, “You don’t hate this country. You hate the fact that one of its Princesses would rather be anywhere but near you.” “Please, I could care less about where Y/N wants to be,” he huffs, chancing a glance at the mentioned princess. “Funny how I didn’t need to mention her name for you to know who I was talking about. And before you try to argue, even if she likes girls, Amelia is a Princess, who can be places.” Sarah skips ahead of her brother without waiting for him to answer. He rushes after his sister to stand in front of the sisters of the groom.

“Sarah, it is lovely to see you again. Thank you for coming,” Y/N greets the First Daughter and sends her to Amelia. She turns to who is next in line, internally groaning once she sees him, “Rafe… Thank you for coming.” “What? It’s not lovely to see me, Princess?” Rafe taunts, feeling her fingers grip him tighter than necessary. She holds her head high and away from him, “You are meant to address me as Your Royal Highness.” She doesn’t say anything else; instead, she has her eyes set on the next people in line. Rafe walks toward the ballroom where the reception is being held. “How can someone so pretty have such a huge stick up her ass?” he grumbles under his breath. He thinks it goes unnoticed by everyone, yet Ms. Stick Up Her Ass hears it all.

———

Y/N’s hands rest on Phelan’s shoulder and hand. They twirl around the room in time with the music, oblivious to Rafe’s stare. The lip of the glass meets his as he takes a sip of his drink. The rum burns his throat. He doesn’t get what she sees in Duke Phelan. The pompous ass looks like a massive buzzkill. Rafe doesn’t care though. Why would he? There is no care in him for the woman in Phelan’s arms. He must admit, when he first saw Y/N, fifteen-year-old him couldn’t believe she was as beautiful as her pictures. It was the first event he had to go to with his new presidential father and she was the only person there around his age. He was in anticipation of meeting her throughout the opening. Their meeting didn’t go how Rafe planned. He had no idea what he did to set Y/N off because he was only met with an icy gaze. It was nothing like the warm glow he saw her give other teens on television or even the adults today at the Olympics. “It is a pleasure to meet you,” she quips quickly. The words were polite; the tone was not. It differed greatly from how she addressed the others. From that day on, it left Rafe with so many questions and the only ability to return her behaviour.

The song comes to an end and Phelan breaks away from her with a kiss on the cheek. “I must use the lavatory. I will be right back, Darling,” he informs her. She spends the time searching for a flute of champagne, heading to examine the cake her brother spent an exorbitant amount of pounds on once she found her drink. The flute is placed on the cake table. She doesn’t notice the other person waiting near the cake. “You looked so serious dancing up there. Do you ever have fun with that snooze,” Rafe comments, not turning in her direction. She rolls her eyes at him, allowing herself to go against decorum for him, “For your information, I have plenty of fun with Duke Phelan. Although, it is none of your business, sir.” He can detect her lies easily. He knows her tell. Her lies are given away by the slight tucking of her inner lip between her teeth. The minuscule tell keeps up with her royal appearance and is recognizable solely by people who know how to look for it.

This is the longest they have gone without sarcasm dripping from their voices, so Rafe takes it as an opportunity to have a decent conversation with her. “Do you ever think about getting married?” he asks, giving her his attention for the first time since they started talking. She gives him a soft smile, “I do. I’ve always wanted a smaller wedding, even though it is virtually impossible because I am a royal. I imagine something more intimate, exchanging vows with the person whom I love. I could pretend for once that my whole country does not place me on a pedestal.” He doesn’t mock her for her dreams like she expected, which surprises her. Maybe, they can be civil with each other. She spots Phelan in the crowd and starts to make her way toward him. Rafe spots her champagne and gently places his hand on her shoulder to point it out to her. He overestimates his strength, causing her to stumble backwards from his pull. She slips on her dress and backpedals into Rafe, sending both of them flying into the giant white cake. The buttercream and sponge of the cake paint their skin and turn them into an abstract painting. Rafe tries to get out from under her. He slips on some icing and this causes him to fall on top of Y/N. She groans at his sudden weight hitting her ribs, placing her hands on his shoulder to push him off of her. He plops to his side at the same time that Phelan comes running to her.

Phelan hands her his handkerchief to wipe her hands off prior to him helping her up. Rafe wants to laugh at the ridiculous notion of getting her to clean up before she can be aided. If required to get her standing, he would’ve picked her up by her waist without a care for the cake getting on his suit. The handkerchief is handed to a waiter and Phelan brings Y/N to her feet. Rafe stands up with no help, going over to apologize to Y/N. “This is all your fault,” she grits through her teeth. She and Phelan make their exit for her to return to her spotless manner.

———

“This is an absolute disaster, Y/N. We are supposed to be presenting a united relationship with the United States because of the upcoming deal the Prime Minister has with President Cameron,” her mother criticizes, showing the multiple headlines of the cake incident on the screen. Y/N’s head bows, “I am sorry, Mother. I will make a public apology to George and the public for wasting the money by destroying the cake.” “That will be added to the list of damage control. Nevertheless, that is not the main focus of this meeting. I called you here to inform you that you will be heading to America tomorrow,” Queen Isabel states, rounding her desk to sit in her chair. Y/N leans forward, “I am not sure I heard you correctly, Mother. Did you say that I am to be in America tomorrow?” “Yes, Y/N. You and Rafe shall pretend that you are actually the best of friends. You will appear at events and hold interviews together,” Isabel begins. “I do not care how much you both hate each other, you will act as if you love each other. Did I make myself clear?” Y/N nods at her mother’s warning, “Yes, Mother.”

———

Y/N always prefers to fly commercial flights. Her mother rarely approves of such flights, except because this flight is not in the original travel budget for the year, a commercial flight was needed to stay within budget. It allowed Y/N to feel normal for once. She could people-watch without the stares of other people, not being recognized because of her coppery-brown wig. The different hair causes people to hesitate if they think she is her and they eventually chalk her up to being a look alike. The copper colour was chosen because it stood out but not too much. She spent her flight people-watching and reading over the dossier on Rafe. It doesn’t surprise her that he is studying Business at UNC-Chapel Hill, Ward after all comes from a business background. Even with the insistence of helping her from her bodyguards and assistant, Y/N persists in getting her bags herself.

During the car ride, Drew, her bodyguard, quizzes her on Rafe for the upcoming interviews. “Where did he grow up?” Drew questions. Y/N doesn’t bat an eye, “Outer Banks, North Carolina. His father was from the Cut, which is the working-class side of the island, but with his developmental firm, he bought a house on Figure Eight, which is the wealthy side.” “You didn’t have to go through that whole backstory. You had it correct after the first sentence,” he notes. She gives him a knowing look, “You know I like to be thorough. Next question, we are almost at the White House.” “Right, who are his best friends?” Drew continues. She thinks about the question for a second, “Topper Thornton. Son of Dr. Cynthia Thornton and Cyrus Thornton, a lawyer. As well as Kelce Smith. Son of Linda Smith, CEO of Smith Enterprises, and Scott Smith, an investment banker.” “A very detailed answer as always,” he is about to come up with another question when the limo comes to a halt. “Your Royal Highness, we are here,” the chauffeur calls out from the front.

The car door swings open and Drew shuffles out of the car, holding out his hand for her. She brings her knees together and shifts her legs to hang out of the car. She looks around the North lawn to find it void of a certain presidential son. “You would think he would be here to greet his own guest,” she snarks when a fancy dark green car comes drifting dangerously close to her. Rafe exits the car with a smirk, “Don’t worry, Princess. You don’t have to be without my presence for very long.” She ignores his remark and pursues the Deputy Chief of Staff, Zahra, to where the interviews are being held.

Y/N sits on the sofa with her back straight, which contrasts Rafe’s slouched position. The first interviewer arrives with a notepad and camera. “It’s nice to meet you, Your Highness and Mr. Cameron. I’m Esther Sparks from British Times,” Esther salutes, shaking both of their hands. “It is lovely to meet you,” Y/N returns with a smile. Rafe mocks her, “It IS lovely to meet you, Ms. Sparks.” He sends a devious smirk and she brings her eyelids close together. They answer generic questions about each other by different interviewers until they each ask one question that they both use to take turns to embarrass each other. “Tell us about the cake incident,” they would each press.

“He very much wanted to try the cake.”

“She was so distracted by my beauty that she didn’t notice where she was walking.”

“He was very inebriated and he fell into the cake.”

“She was so jealous about her brother getting all of the attention.”

Each answer received a laugh from the interviewers. During the final recording, the man behind the camera actually had a different eye-widening query. He lays out pictures from the wedding. “In all of these pictures, there is a fire within both of your eyes. Is there something more than a friendship that you have been hiding?” Rafe’s water spews all over the coffee table. Y/N hides her disgust whilst responding, “That is certainly incorrect. I am in a very happy relationship with Duke Phelan. Anything you have interpreted is not based on facts.” Only the camera captures the slight waiver of Rafe’s mouth into a frown as he processes her answer. Even he won’t admit it happened.

———

Rafe waits by her bedroom door while she gets ready as ordered by Zahra. He didn’t want to escort the princess to the car, but Zahra argued that it would look good optics-wise if they went out to the car together. Right at twelve-forty-five, her door creaks to reveal the most laid-back outfit he has seen her in. She is wearing jeans with a plain pastel pink T-shirt. He has only ever seen her in formal pants, skirts or dresses. The most casual she has been in pictures is semi-formal. “Are you finished staring? We have somewhere to be,” she quips, leaving him to watch as her hair swishes from side to side. He chases after her and holds the door open to get brownie points with the media for being a gentleman. Once he catches up to her, he clarifies his reason for his earlier gaze. “I was staring because I didn’t know you owned jeans.”

“I didn’t know you kept up with my wardrobe.”

“I… I don’t. You just always dress like you are going to a wedding or something.”

“Well, I’m sorry that I can’t always dress like I just rolled out of bed. I, for one, have to maintain my appearance.”

He chuckles at her retort, “Damn, look who finally got some good bite to her bark.” Her eyes form a circle and she has to stop the small stutter in her step when he opens each door they pass for her. He has to admit he really does like her new style. She looks more relaxed and comfortable. They both slide into the car, waiting patiently to arrive at the hospital.

———

How can someone so rude be so good with children? They all sit in front of Rafe, listening to him read from the storybook. He would change his voice for different characters and the hand not holding the book would gesture wildly. The moment would be interrupted if she tried to join in on the reading, so she silently observed the scene. He really does enjoy entertaining the children. They feed off of his relaxed demeanour and return it back to him. A toddler waddles up to her, leaning back against her knees. She hasn’t exactly interacted with a lot of children, so she doesn’t know what to do with him. At this time, Rafe finishes his book and glances at the uncomfortable look on her face. He leans in, letting his lips meet the shell of her ear. “He wants to sit on your lap. Pick him up by the waist and put him on your lap.” She gives him a hesitant look, doing as he instructs. She struggles a little and Rafe helps her by gently pushing the boy onto her lap. The young child is satisfied with the result. He turns into her hold, sucking his thumb with his head in her neck.

A thought pops into Rafe’s mind that makes him reevaluate his life. Y/N holding the toddler brings up the image of her doing the same with their own children. To have those thoughts, he would have to like her and that can’t be right. He can’t have feelings for Y/N. He doesn’t even know her last name. She speaks like an old person all the time and she can’t stand him. This must be a mistake. A trick of his brain. Because there is no way that he is falling for her.

———

After a successful afternoon of spending time with children in the pediatric unit, Y/N and Rafe are heading back to the car. A pop sounds throughout the room and Y/N docks for cover in a panic. Rafe reacts on instinct, using his body to shield the crouching Y/N. Drew rushes the two public figures into a storage closet and orders them to stay there until he comes to get them. Her breathing starts to quicken, feeling like she can’t get enough air into her lungs. He hears the gasps she lets out and he grows concerned. She must be having a panic attack, yet he doesn’t know what to do. He hesitates in bringing her head to his chest and he demonstrates his controlled breathing. “In. Out. In. Out,” he mumbles, cupping her ear to muffle the commotion outside. She mimics his pattern. Her feet take a step back, “Thank you.” “No problem. I didn’t know you got panic attacks triggered by loud noises. It’s not in your file,” he voices. She shrugs, “I do not desire it to be public knowledge. It does not uphold a royal’s controlled behaviour.” “Did… did you want to talk about it?” he offers, sitting against the shelving unit.

“During my first royal tour, I was five, a gunman tried shooting my mother. In the chaos, I was knocked to the floor whilst everyone around me tried moving away,” she begins to recount. “I remember how much it hurt to feel the toes of everyone’s shoes hit against my skin. I was so scared I was not going to be found. However, I was more terrified of going back to a family that no longer had a mother. I had no idea what happened to her.” Tiny globs of water form in the corner of her eyes and he pulls her in for a hug. “Since then, loud sounds remind me of that day,” she explains. The mood in the closet holds a dark cloud over both of them. Their arms fall to the ground and their fingers gently brush against each other. He can’t think of a way of cheering her up; therefore, he tries to cheer her up by moving the conversation along.

“Why do you always sound like you have a stick up your ass?”

She chokes a little on a laugh, “What is it with you and sticks up my arse?”

“It’s always funny to get a princess to say ass.”

“That is very immature. And to answer your question, I may be the second born but I am still the first spare. If god forbid something happens to my brother or he chooses not to have a baby. I would be up to bat. No one wants a normal queen. They want an exceptional one.”

“That sounds like a lot of pressure.”

“It is but it is the pressure I was born to handle.”

There is strength within her, except he can see how this expectation is chipping away at her. His pinky reaches for hers to provide comfort, “You may be born into the pressure, but it doesn’t mean you should have to deal with it by yourself.” Before she can answer, the door opens and the both of them jump apart. Drew’s eyebrows almost met his hairline at the sight of the pair. “The scene has been assessed and it is safe, Your Royal Highness. It was a child who brought a firework for his friend. No plans of harming you or Rafe,” Drew shares, holding his hand out for Y/N to take. The connection of her hand with another man’s causes jealousy to burn in Rafe’s stomach.

———

Rafe felt victorious once he finally got Y/N to use a contraction. It was over text, but it still counted. Ever since the day at the hospital, they have been texting each other. He had asked Zahra for the princess’ number because he missed being snarky with her after she left for home. He hates how his heart tickles upon seeing her contact name pop up in a notification. Princess. His hand reaches for his phone, not being able to hold his smile in. If this photographer tells me to smile bigger one more time, then I’m going to cut my lips off and staple them to his camera. Rafe chuckles at her gruesomeness. It was surprising to him when Y/N divulged her love of gruesome movies. He couldn’t believe the prim and proper princess of England enjoyed the sight of bloody murders. It wasn’t just any kind of horror movie though. It was slasher movies that she fancied the most. She said it relaxes her, which only slightly concerned him. Come on, Princess. All he wants to do is see your pretty smile.

She sees the flash of her lock screen with a notification. She can’t respond because the photographer snaps his fingers to catch her attention. Rafe is going to have to wait. After the photoshoot is over, Y/N gets changed into her sweatpants and jumper. She remembers she has to respond to his text, so she calls him instead. “Are my ears deceiving me? Is Princess Y/N actually calling me?” he teases, lying back down in his bed. He was about to get ready for the day; this was better. She shakes her head, “I am. Not because I want to talk to you, I need to work on my American accent. I’m planning on running for President. You know so I can actually be the ruler of a country.”

“I’m hurt, Princess. And here I thought you liked me.”

“There are a lot of words I would use to describe you, Rafe. Bring liked by me is not one of them.”

“I beg to differ. If you didn’t like me, then why are we talking right now?”

“Because I am bored and for some reason, I keep getting texts from you.”

A knock comes at his door before it is opened by Wheezie. “Dad needs to see you,” she relays the message. His head flicks up to acknowledge her and he moves his phone away from his mouth, “Okay, I’ll be down in a second.” A pout forms on Y/N’s mouth. “Aww, you have to go. But we literally just started talking.” “I know. I’m sorry, Princess. I think it is a good thing though. The more you talk to me, the more and more you sound like a commoner,” he jokes. She huffs, “Haha, I’m sorry that I no longer sound like I have a stick up my arse. I bet it’s disappointing for you.” “You really are getting better at sounding more human. I’m proud, Princess,” he lets out a disappointed sigh. “I have to go now. Bye.” With no other choice, he hangs up the call to go talk to his dad.

———

After months of texting and calling, Y/N and Rafe are going to be in the same room again. Rafe is hosting his annual New Year's Eve party. All the most prominent children in the world are going to be in attendance, so, of course, Y/N would be in attendance as well. Rafe and she are on familiar terms with each other; nonetheless, she is dreading the party. The holiday season involves being cattled to different events to boost the family name and Y/N is exhausted. Any other year, New Year's Eve would be the pause in the season she needs. This year is different because of the cake incident. To make matters worse, she obviously misinterpreted the type of event this is because she is very overdressed. Her black and white plaid knee-length polyester skirt matches her blazer and with her long-sleeve button-up, she is burning up. Rafe can spot her easily in the crowd. Her outfit makes her stand out more and he loves it. He likes being able to quickly locate her.

The dancing people part to create an easy path for him. He reaches her with a smile. “I’m glad you came, Princess. I was beginning to think you weren’t coming,” he taunts, kissing her cheek as a welcome. A whirlpool stirs in her stomach. Her hand grips her forearm, “Yep. I’m sorry I’m late. There was a delay on my flight. I also overestimated the dress code and now, I feel silly.” His head moves from side to side with a comforting look. “Don’t feel silly, you look beautiful. And hey, you’re using contractions so you fit right in,” he promises, a warm hand resting on hers.

He can see through the smile she offers. It doesn’t reach her eyes, which are slightly glazed over with bags just peeking through her concealer. His mood matches hers because suddenly his happiness depends on how she is feeling. “You look tired, Princess. Is everything alright?” he presses, stepping closer so his mouth is near her ear. Her head darts up, “Yeah, I’m peachy. A little jet lagged though.” He catches the way her bottom lip appears to be microscopically pitched between her teeth. “Come on, Princess. I don’t like it when you lie to me. So please tell me what’s wrong,” he implores. She exhales, “No offence, I really don’t want to be here. New Year’s Eve is the time that I get a break from being paraded around like a float. I can settle down in my room by myself in comfy clothes and as many movies as I want.” The corner of her lips droop downwards. “Why don’t we do that then?” he suggests, holding his hand out. Her breath hitches at his proposal, “You can’t leave your own party, Rafe.” “Ehh, it’s dead anyway. Let’s go,” he insists, tugging her out of the tent and into the White House.

His room is exactly as she imagined, although with fewer Playboy posters than she thought he would have. The sheets of his bed are crisply made and a peek in his walk-in closet shows clothes hanging at an equal distance from one another. Everything is pristine and in place, which isn’t surprising for the man she got to learn more about. He guides her onto the bed and leaves a pillow-width distance between them. The click of the remote causes the screen to light and he pulls up Scream. As the clock tickets toward midnight, the pair watch one slasher film from the franchise after the other. “Okay, I get why she stays in America in the second movie. No one expects to get chased after a serial killer again. But if it were to happen to me a second time, you bet your ass that I would be moving to a remote island somewhere after the second time,” Y/N fills the silence.

He chortles, “I’m with you on that. How many times does Sidney need to get chased by a Ghostface killer before she leaves civilization? What would you bring to your remote island?” “Horror movies, a Swiss army knife and you,” she rattles off mindlessly. His head swivels toward her, “Me? What about your amazing boyfriend?” “I love him. I do. He just isn’t great with survival skills. I would die immediately if we were deserted,” she clarifies, reaching for the popcorn they popped earlier tonight. He nods, “Right. I’m from the Outer Banks, so I can fish and shit.” “Yes, you can. Ooh, look. It’s almost midnight. Change it to the countdown please,” she implores, accidentally pressing her breasts against his chest to grab the remote for him. He takes the remote out of her hand; their warm hands brush each other to make both of their breaths hitch. She pulls away as he switches the TV to display the New York Countdown. The crowd of people on the screen starts to count, watching as the ball descends.

Rafe observes how the glow of the screen lights up her face. Her voice fills in with the partygoers. He is drawn to the way her lips move. They are stained a reddish mauve that makes him wonder what it would look like smeared on the skin around his mouth. The colour makes her lips even more kissable. He has to remind himself they don’t belong to him, yet he needs to know what they feel like on his. Fireworks go off at midnight and Rafe has to take this chance while he has the excuse of a midnight kiss. The pads of his digits face her head toward him. He leans forward and their lips meet. His mind searches for signs that she doesn’t want this. A push of his chest. A shake of her head. A yell of no. They don’t come. Instead, her lips move against his. The peck he was going to give her is reworked into something deeper.

She can’t be mad at him kissing her without any warning. She saw him leaning in for the kiss and had ample time to turn him away. He would definitely respect if she said it wasn’t what she wanted. This is wrong; she has a boyfriend. Nevertheless, her brain screams that it wants to know if his lips are as rough as she thinks they are. The contact of their mouths causes her to part her two petals. He matches her actions and slots his kisser against hers. The roughness isn’t what she expected; it’s less than she imagined. His hands maneuver to her hips to shift her onto his lap. She twines her hand in the field of his hair. Even if she isn’t pressing hard, she can feel the rock forming in his pants against the growing wetness of her pussy. The moment they are sharing creates a fire within her, akin to the one he normally builds. The difference with this one is that it is fueled by passion. Her head is woozy and she believes she needs this feeling to breathe. Being with Phelan isn’t like this. What she has with her boyfriend is soft like a cool breeze. It doesn’t spark this desire for more. It doesn’t have her chasing after it.

This makes her realize how wrong this is. She isn’t with Rafe. She shouldn’t sense the urge to be consumed by him, so she has to pull away. The tint of her lipstick coats his pale skin and he is wearing it with pride. The corners of his piehole droop like a wet towel. Her head wavers from side to side, “I should go. I’m really tired.” She swings off of him and gathers her things before dashing out the door. Leaving Rafe to wonder if he has ruined everything they had and possibly could have.

———

Going back to no contact absolutely destroys Rafe. The kiss clarified everything for him. He loves her and maybe his crush on her from when he was fifteen never went away in the first place. After running his fingers through his hair in frustration for not following her out, he took a picture of the way her lipstick was practically tattooed onto his skin. This vision deserves to be remembered forever. The flowery scent of her perfume is imprinted in his memory. He flicks through the pictures as he listens to Zahra go over the different events he needs to attend in the following month. In the most non-creepy way, he wishes he had more candid pictures of Y/N. The only ones he has of her are the professional photos that show none of her personality. She looks so poised and stiff, which doesn’t show the whole of her. “Rafe, Rafe. Are you listening to me?” Zahra criticizes. He slams the phone down on the counter; nothing would be more embarrassing than getting caught looking at a picture of himself.

He has no idea how to hide his lack of attention, “Uhh, you were talking about… How I need to go to LA?” “Stop looking at naked girls on your phone. I was talking about how you are going to go to the UK again for Prince George’s Charity Polo Match,” the Chief exasperates. His interests are piqued and he scrambles out of the meeting with Zahra calling after him. He is furiously typing on his phone. Hey, I know it’s been a while since we’ve talked. I just wanted to let you know that I’m going to be at your brother’s Polo Match, so hopefully we can talk. He hits the arrow to send the text and listens to the whoosh it lets out. It doesn’t take long for the sent under the bubble to change into read. It disappoints him that no bubbles follow the change. He doesn’t know why he thought she would respond.

———

Phelan sits beside Y/N in the Royal box with his fingers laced between hers. Thousands of eyes are probably on her, yet she can only feel one burning into her skin. She glimpses at him and their orbs encounter each other. “I need to talk to you,” he mouths to her. She disregards his attempt to speak to her and faces her boyfriend. Her lips plant on Phelan’s cheeks and his cheeks redden like a cherry. She moves to the shell of his ear, “Maybe you can meet me in the equipment shed in a few minutes. I have the urge to engage in coitus.” Phelan and Y/N are never spontaneous or lustful with their sexual intercourse. Phelan prefers the privacy of one of their beds and to be the one on top. While his slow pace is sweet, it can lead to Y/N feeling a little unfulfilled by the experience and makes her wonder what more is out there. She thought that maybe this could be the opportunity for that. Phelan leans away from her with a taken-aback look on his face. “We most certainly must not do so. We are in public and it would be inappropriate,” he scolds like she is a child. The hope on her face drops and she decides she needs to get some air. She excuses herself from her sits, heading to the equipment shed as she had originally planned.

The hut is empty and smells of the hay tracked in by the riders, who were returning their equipment. Peace fills her soul. Finally, a moment without the stares of everyone on her. The rolls of the wheels cause her to turn toward the door. Is Phelan surprising her? Her teeth flash to the entering figure; they hide once she sees who it is. “What are you doing here?” she murmurs to him, not connecting their gaze. He closes the door and remains where he is standing. He fears she will feel trapped by him. “We haven’t talked since New Year’s Eve,” he expresses. She acknowledges his statement, “I am aware of that fact.” She keeps her sentences short. “I know I shouldn’t have kissed you. I’m sorry,” he apologizes with his hand on the back of his neck.

Her head bobs up and down, “Okay, I accept.” He waits to see if she will add anything. Her silence lasts. “So that’s it. I make one mistake and we can’t be friends. I get that I made it uncomfortable and I’m not trying to say it is your fault, but you kissed me back too,” he points out, taking a step forward. She stares at him, “I should not have done that. I did not enjoy it.” A longing look fills his eyes and his head dips to be close to her ear. “Then why did you grip my hair so tightly.” Her eyes flit to his lips and she can’t contain herself. She throws her arms around his neck, pulling his face to hers. He groans at finally being able to feel her against him again. His hands bring her flush against him by the waist. He asks for permission to enter her mouth with a swipe of his tongue along her bottom lip. She allows him in with a slight moan. Their feet glide on the floor and she presses him up against the door. Being in control of this situation built a fire inside of her that she didn’t know could exist. No matter how hard or how much their lips are together, she feels like it will never be enough. A loud shout from outside snaps her back to reality and she can’t believe she did this against. Once again, she leaves him alone.

However, this time, he isn’t going to let her run off again without talking about what happened. He chases after her, losing her in the crowd. When he finds her again, he can’t manage to get her alone. As the event comes to an end, she is rushing off back to Kensington Palace with her sister.

———

He couldn’t let her go another time, especially since he was already in England. It was pretty easy to get into Kensington Palace when Amelia was such a big fan of him. “Let him through, Conrad. I like him,” she orders, beckoning Rafe into the palace grounds once the guard at the gate moves out of the way. “Thanks,” he says as they walk inside. She flashes him a smile, “You’re welcome. I’m secretly hoping you and Y/N get together. I already know you guys have kissed so we are almost there.” “Your sister told you about that?” he inquires with hope. If Y/N told her sister about the moment, then she is at least acknowledging it happened. Amelia shakes her head, “No, I can just tell though. She’s my sister. I have to go, but good luck!” She heads in the other direction, leaving Rafe to search for Y/N’s room.

He finds it and knocks gently on the door. She calls out for him to enter. Her room is exactly as he expected. It is completely void of her amazing personality. The pristine appearance fits perfectly with the aesthetic that the royal employees push onto her. He wishes she would be allowed to plaster horror movie posters around the room. He wishes he could help her litter the room with pictures. Maybe they could’ve been of them on dates or kissing or being in each other's company. The political books on the shelves should be of the smutty romance books he has caught her reading when they were first getting to know each other. The room definitely needs more colour.

She is sitting at her desk, staring him down. “Why are you here?” He walks over to her, “I’m tired. Tired of you always running off after we kiss, so we can’t talk to each other.” “Both times were a mistake. I have Phelan and I am perfectly happy. I do not want to see you anymore, so please leave,” she argues. His head moves from side to side, “No. Because we need to talk about it. I know we both felt that spark and we can’t just ignore it.”

“There was no spark. And even if there was, then why would it matter?”

“Why does the spark matter? It matters because we love each other and we deserve to give us a chance.”

“I am in love with Phelan.”

Rafe chuckles, “Really?” He towers over her; his breath hitting her neck as he brings his lips to ghost the skin of it. “So he satisfies you? With his kisses? With his touches? With his dick?” He kisses down her neck with each question and she knows she should move away, except she doesn’t. She craves the feeling of his lips and wonders the type of pleasure he can bring her. “We can’t be together,” she informs, thinking about what her mother wants for her future. A future that features marrying Duke Phelan. He disagrees, “Why not? Give me one good reason.”

“My mother says I have to marry Phelan.”

“I said give me a good reason. Aren’t you tired of doing what everyone else wants? If you had to be selfish about one thing, shouldn’t it be with who gets your heart?”

“And what would you do with my heart?”

“I would help you kindle the fire that burns in it. I would show you that you deserve to be treated as more than just a spare. Because you are your own person, Princess, and that merits the freedom of choosing who you marry.”

His tone drips with care and it squeezes at her heart. Beside her sister, he is the only person who can see past her royal side. “And who should I choose to marry? You?” she teases, placing a hand on his chest to steady her slightly dizzy head. His shoulders rise to his ears, “Maybe. I mean if you want to. Not know though. In the distant, distant future.” His cheeks redden at the thought and he rubs the back of his neck. “You’re right. I want to give you my heart,” she mutters to him. “I also really want to kiss you.” He takes this as an invitation to lean in. She stops him with a finger to his lips. “We can’t do that again until I break up with Phelan. It isn’t fair to him,” she tells him. He nods, “Right, right. I’ll text you the hotel I’m staying at. Come over when you do what you have to do.”

“Okay, I’ll be over as soon as I can.”

“Sounds good. Also, don’t think that I haven’t noticed you started using contractions again. But you know what would sound even better?”

She giggles, “Get your ass out of here so I can go break up with Phelan.”

———

Breaking up with Phelan felt like a weight was lifted off of her shoulders. He didn’t understand why she wanted to call it quits on them but eventually came around to the idea. She left him alone to cry into his pillow and went to Rafe’s hotel. She had one stop to go to first. She leaves the store wearing her newly acquired purchase and bounces in her seat while she is being driven to Rafe. She practically falls out of the car and rushes to the elevator. As soon as he opens the door, she attacks him with a kiss. Their lips separate with a grin and they laugh at her lipstick smudge on him. “In case, it isn’t clear. I want to be with you because you make me feel the most alive I ever have before. Like I can be myself with you and I won’t disappoint you,” she murmurs against his lips. Rafe grips her into his arms and drags her into his room, “You could never disappoint me. You are the most amazing person I have ever met.” They continue the kiss as he falls back onto the bed with her on top of him.

Her hands go to the buttons on his shirt and start popping them out of their holes. She tugs his shirt off of him, not breaking their kiss to do so. His arms rest at the hem of her shirt and he breaks the kiss. “We don’t have to do this. I know it might be a little early. We can just watch a movie or get something to eat,” he offers. She shakes her head, “I need you, Rafe. Please, make me feel good.” His dick strains against his pants at her pleas. He loves the neediness in her voice. “Your wish is my command, Princess.” He rids her of her shirt and he almost drools at the sight before him.

Her breasts are barely contained by the dark red lace cupping it. The material barely kisses the top of her nipples. Y/N was nervous about buying this for Rafe; however, with the way he was staring at her, she determined she chose correctly. This set makes her feel confident and sexy, which contrasts with what Phelan prefers for her to wear. It was always soft pink and covered her assets completely. Very feminine and cute. She prefers this feeling over that. She gets up off of his lap to slide off her pants and he takes off his. She has to stop herself from drooling at the size of his length. Even though she has never done it before, she wants to know what he feels like in her mouth. She drops to her knees and hesitantly reaches out for his cock. He can sense her doubt, “You don’t have to do that if you don’t want to, Princess.” “No! I want to. I just never done this before,” she reveals, dropping her hand down to her side. His eyes widen, “You’ve never had sex? You should’ve told me this was your first time, Princess. I would’ve made it more special.” “I’ve had sex. It’s just… Phelan’s idea of foreplay is running a finger through my folds and then squirting lube on his dick before he pushes into me, missionary style,” she explains.

He gives her a soft smile, “I’m sorry he never made you feel as good as he should’ve. I’ll make sure you get to experience everything you want to. But that is going to be the last time you think about him because the only man you are allowed to think of is me.” He joins her on the floor and guides her onto the bed. He looks up at her, “I want to show you how good foreplay feels and then I can show you how to give me a blow job. Is that okay?” She bobs her head and butterflies fill her stomach. He takes off her matching lacey thong and her legs spread for him. She can’t wait to fill his lips against her pussy, so she eagerly shoves his face into her heat. His chuckles send vibrations through her core and she throws her head back at the feeling. He sucks on her clit, flicking his tongue at it whilst he does so.

She doesn’t know what to do with her hands, so she threads them through his hair. After a few more sucks, he moves his tongue into her hole. He laps at it like she is his final meal. “Do you like how this feels, Princess? Am I making you feel good?” he seeks her assurance as if her moans and pulls aren’t enough of an answer. She brings him back to her, “So good. More, please, Rafe.” He continues his assault on her pussy and goes back to devouring her. She screams at the feeling, grinding against his face. His hands find her hips and hold her down against the mattress. He presses his face further into her. He can fill her walls trying to grip onto his tongue, so he gives her a finger to cling to. She tightens around him as he moves his finger in and out of her, using his mouth to stimulate her clit. She adjusts to the finger and he uses another finger to stretch her out some more. This is when she starts to contract around him and a knot starts to build in her stomach. Her back arches as she pulls his hair, “I’m going to come.” Her words motivate Rafe more and he speeds up his motion to bring her to her high. Her walls relax against him and he pulls out of her. “Look at my princess all wet for me. I’m so proud of you. You want to know what you taste like because you taste fantastic,” he praises. Wonder fills her and she moves his head to hers. She can taste herself on his lips.

He comes to stand between her legs as they make out and she can feel his hard length against her pussy. She parts their lips, looking down at his hips. His dick stands tall against the bottom of his stomach. “Can I suck you off now?” she asks in a small voice. He twitches at the thought of her mouth around him, “Of course, you can, Princess. You start off doing what you think is right and I’ll tell you what I like.” He helps her stand, grabbing a pillow off of his bed for her to kneel on. Her knees rest against the soft cushion. She gently takes him into her hand and examines every inch of him. The veins running up and down his cock call to her. Her tongue sticks out from the cavern of her mouth and she traces along them. She moves from the base of his penis up to his tip.

The tiny slit on the tip is oozing with pre-cum and she kisses it. Salt fills her mouth. She peppers it with another kiss before trying to take him into her mouth completely. He hits the back of her throat and she has to pull away with a cough. Rafe lets out a low laugh. He cups her cheek and keeps her off of him for a second. “Look at my eager princess, who just wants to make me feel good with her mouth. You need to sle help you.” His hands go to theow down a little. Don’t want you hurting yourself. Here, let m back of her head and slowly direct her back onto him. With the more controlled movement, she can get a better hold of her breathing. “See, there you go. You are doing so much better. Breath through your nose, Princess,” he advises. She follows his instructions and this helps her get farther down his cock without the need to come out for air. She isn’t able to take his full size, so he continues to aid her in handling what she can fit. His dick starts to spasm inside of her mouth and he tries to remove himself from her mouth. She doesn’t let him. She grips his wrists to stop his attempt and her head continues to bobble against him until ropes of his cum release into her mouth. She swallows the salty substance and drops him out of her mouth.

She licks her lips to gather whatever is pooled around her mouth. He yanks her to his feet and brings her lips to his again. He unhooks her bra, throwing it somewhere in the room. He kisses down her neck to her nipple and starts playing with the bud with his tongue. She moans at the feeling. He uses a hand to give attention to the other nipple. The manipulation grows wetness in between her legs again. Her hand goes to try and relieve the tension. His grip halts her movement, “Nuh-uh. The next time you come again is going to be on my cock, Princess.” He spins them around, so he can flop onto the bed. “Come ride me, Princess. Take what you want.” Lava must be running through her veins because she has never been more turned on by something.

She straddles his waist and her hand goes between their bodies. The tip of his dick finds her entrance thanks to her help. She sinks onto his girth with her head thrown back. She can feel every single inch of him thanks to the position and he is hitting places within her she didn’t know existed. She anchors to his hilt, staying still so she can adjust to the feeling. “God, how can you feel this good?” she questions as she starts to raise her hips. Rafe chortles, “Because you are doing so well for me, Princess.” His tip remains inside of her before she slams herself back down of her. This is so much more different than she is used to and she loves it. She gets to set the pace. She gets to determine how hard it is. She knows Rafe doesn’t want her to think about Phelan, but she can’t help but curse him for never letting her experience this. He can tell she is driving pleasure from the harsh piercing of his cock, so he decides to show her how much better it can get. His hand grips her waist and he keeps her still. His hips buck up into her with all of his force. She lets out a pleasured scream as she jerks forward. Her hand lands on his bare chest and her nails start digging crescents into his skin.

“God, Rafe. Keep going,” she begs between moans. Rafe grins up at her, “You like that, Princess? You like it when my dick drills into you? What do you think the people of England would say if they saw their beloved princess likes to be fucked like a dirty whore?” “I love it so much, Rafe. Please, let me move,” she requests. Rafe’s grasp on her loosens a little and he helps lead her down his shaft. The combination of both their movements gets him to hit her G-spot repeatedly. She starts to constrict and a bud of pressure starts to form in her stomach. Rafe’s thumb presses onto her clit, moving in a circular motion to intensify her enjoyment.

The tension of her walls around him causes him to spasm inside of her. She senses that his end is near; regardless, she doesn’t get him to pull out. She wants to experience everything that he has to offer. He is brought over the edge before her and he doesn’t think about removing himself from her as he does so. She can feel his seeds seeping into her, continuing her descent onto him to come too. His pace doesn’t let up and his thumb presses harder into her clit. “You can do it, Princess. Come for me. Show me how tight you can get for me,” he demands. The bud inside of her finally blooms into a flower and she comes undone around him. She drops so their chests are pressed against each other. Their drive doesn’t stop, just slows down until they have both finished coming down from their high. They clutch to each other like a baby koala to a mother koala. He smoothes her sweaty hair back with a kiss on her forehead. “You did so good,” he whispers his applause. “I am so proud of you. You made me feel so good. Did you like it, Princess?” She nods in his hold and kisses his collarbone, “I loved it. I’ve never felt like that during sex before.” “Well, that’s a damn shame. Whoever left you unsatisfied didn’t deserve you,” he notes.

The couple hold each other for a few minutes, taking in the serenity of being together at last. He slips out of her and they both feel the rush of their fluid out of her. She monitors as he moves around the room. She can hear the bathtub begin to run and he returns to place her into the warm water. Y/N scoots forward to let him in behind her. He rests her back against his chest and interweaves their fingers. The silence is good for their voices after all the noise they make during sex. “Why did you hate me before we even said a word to each other?” he ponders out loud.

She shifts in his hold and rests the back of her head on his shoulder. Her shoulders meet her ears, “I don’t know what you are talking about.” She can feel the outburst in his chest as laughter emits from his mouth. “Don’t play stupid with me, Princess. I’m talking about how I almost got frostbite when you first set eyes on me.”

“Right, that. You are going to think I was a little ridiculous or hate me for what I tell you.”

“I promise I won’t. I just want to know what triggered our four-year feud. You know so that I don’t make the same mistake with the next princess I meet and I can bed her faster than four years.”

She giggles and slaps the arm wrapped under her armpits. Her mood changes at the remembrance of the topic she is about to disclose. “I hated you because you had a dad,” she speaks out into the world. His arm close in around her some more to provide her with comfort. He kisses her cheek, “Princess, everyone, at least biologically, has a dad.” “I know. Except, you had a dad when I just lost mine. I didn’t want to go to the Olympics that year. It would’ve been filled with too many memories of the person I lost because my dad used to take me,” she clarifies. “And I was right. Everything reminded me of my dad. It hurt too much to be there. However, I had to maintain my composure because the world was watching and when I saw that you were there with your dad treating you like how my dad used to treat me, I envied what you had.” He nods to show that he is still listening. “It was a stupid thing to get upset at. It’s not like you had any control over it. Then, you reciprocated my attitude and I guess we got into a vicious cycle.” He plays with her fingers, “I see, I’m sorry that you felt that way and that I didn’t give you a chance before being rude to you too. I knew you lost your father and I didn’t think about that. “You don’t need to apologize. I guess this whole thing is just a miscommunication,” she makes it out to be what it truly is. Rafe’s chin digs and lets up from her head, “Yeah, I’m just glad we cleared everything up. I love you.” “Me too. I love you too,” she concurs.

They get out of the water and wrap themselves in the fluffiest robes. Their hands are connected as they head back into the bedroom. They flop down onto the bed and he loses himself in his thought. She rests her head against his chest, “What are you thinking about?” “I hate your room,” he articulates. She lifts her face to look at him, “Why?” “Because it doesn’t have any of your beautiful personality. I mean where were your smutty books? Where were your Scream posters? Where were the other colours of the rainbow?” he justifies. Her head falls back onto his chest, “Apparently all of those things don’t match the palace’s aesthetic.” “That’s stupid. I’m going to help you add some life into your room and we can start with some of my sweaters. I want to leave you with some piece of me when I go back home,” he informs. Her eyes find the bright blue sweater hanging in his open closet. Her heart skips a beat at his offer. “I like the sound of that. I have a feeling you are going to get me in so much trouble,” she thinks out loud. “I am. I’m going to turn you into such my rebellious princess.”

Taglist: @loves0phelia @thelomlisrafecameron @tv3verett

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javelinbk · 6 months

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The Beatles being menaces in Northern Ireland, 8th November 1963 - part 2 (part 1) (x)

#lol at paul pushing george back #he’s not in a laughing mood even #not after that pushing john in front of a car trick #annoying little brother george #john lennon #paul mccartney #george harrison #ringo starr #the beatles #november 1963 was just the best month #it was sixty years ago today #november 1963 #dublin 1963 #javelin's gifs #paul and george

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starkwlkr · 1 year

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f1 masterlist ✨

— here are all my f1 related works, thanks for reading!

platonic (all drivers)

annoying little brothers

bitch, I’m a mother!

mother (no, literally)

charles leclerc

baby leclerc series

baby leclerc: teen edition

princess of monaco series

kiss with a fist

i love my wife

if he wanted to

i’ve got my eye on you

safety first

good for her

monaco does that to you

love hurts

go sports

ti amo

breakup with your boyfriend

off to the races

friends don’t kiss friends

mick schumacher

senna!reader series

who would’ve thought?

god is a woman

lewis hamilton

take care of you

george russell

and i love her

prince george?

dad approved

max verstappen

would’ve been

nothings going to hurt you baby

daniel ricciardo

still into you

it’s ricciardo actually

enchantè

you are in love

lando norris

you’re stuck with me

passenger princess

part time royal

royal baby

no rizz

crafting table

my favorite nepo baby

guanyu zhou

is your gf single?

carlos sainz jr.

black swan

pierre gasly

uncle duties

sebastian vettel

proud husband

me and my husband

cherry flavoured

fever dream

i wait for you series

she’s the boss

mark webber

boys on the radio

silver springs

james vowles

happy anniversary

kimi raikkonen

little lies

#formula 1 #f1 x reader #formula 1 imagine #f1 imagine #f1 x you #formula one #f1 masterlist

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thursdaygxrls · 1 year

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Seeing Her

summary - george might (maybe) have a small crush.

pairing - george weasley x fem!bookworm!reader

disclaimer - i don't own any harry potter property. this is unedited because i wasn't in the mood. i don’t own the gif fr.

warnings - just fluff. maybe a little ooc??

He never gave much thought to how full his mind had grown of her until McGonagall struck her desk with her palms. That noise - the searing slap of flesh meeting oak - knocked a sudden realization into the bubbling pot of his mind.

"I do hope you boys are satisfied with yourselves," the older woman chastised through permanently pursed lips, "Professor Flitwick's hair is green!"

"Not purple?" Fred spoke up from next to him.

"This is no laughing matter. You boys are lucky the Professor has a sense of humor. If it were Snape or me in his position, I hope you realize the consequences would be more drastic than detention." She replied. This conversation had fallen upon George's deaf ears, though; his thoughts were much more full of things other than detention:

It was like a dream the first time he saw her - and not just because he had a black eye. He'd just left quidditch practice (or rather, was removed after he and Fred had gotten into a small tussle with the Slytherin bludgers who didn't understand Gryffindor booked the field for practice) when he passed the courtyard. Eye swelling with the beginnings of a bruise, he noticed a hazy glint coming from a line of trees. He could see her; she was only a few meters away, rolling some sort of ring or watch around in a way that caught the light of the fading sun. There was a book in her hands, something with a bright, poppy color, that hinted at it being a pulpy mystery or romance. What caught him the most, though, was her expression; her brows were creased, eyes set in concentration, lips downturned into a frown. Whatever she was reading was pissing her off, and for some reason, the sight of this unknown girl becoming increasingly annoyed at her imaginary tale made his mouth curl into a smile.

George returned to his dorm with that same smile. Of course, though, he'd forgotten about the girl within the hour and found himself following the rinse-and-repeat routine of a mischief-less night. He'd still forgotten when he woke. And when he brushed his teeth. And when he messily knotted his tie.

The funny thing about her was her persistence. He had not even taken a step down the ever-shifting staircase when he saw her. She was far below him and growing farther with every second, but there she was, pulpy fiction novel tucked under her arm. This time, her face was adorned with a grin as she followed (who George could only assume was) her friend towards the Great Hall. This sight caught the boy off guard for long enough that he nearly tripped over his feet when the steps relocated to the right.

George was even more aghast to learn that she was in his potions class. He'd just set down his books next to Fred when an invisible force compelled him to turn around. Following its lead, he found the mystery he'd yet to even consider mysterious seated only three tables away. His eyebrows raised in small bout of surprise as he noticed the the cover of her novel had changed to reveal a more gothic image of a knotted tree: Wuthering Heights. He hadn't cared much to track her progress on the pulp book, but it was still a small shock to see her ready to take on another story. Again, he smiled, noting the title of the new book.

"What'cha looking at?" Fred asked him, interrupting his gaze.

"Nothing," he replied, turning away, "Trying to view things from my purple perspective." Fred let out a low chuckle, his bruised cheek raising as he matched his brother's grin.

It wasn't as if George was seeking her out or anything - actually, it was as though she were seeking him. He saw her everywhere, from breakfast, to the halls, to classes, to the courtyard. He even dreamed of her a few times - nothing special, just the image of her resting along the hazy vignettes of his mind. Throughout all this, he had taken a subconscious interest. She ate away at muggle books faster than he'd ever seen anyone do; she loved cheesy and classic romance alike, and no title was safe from her grasp; it was painful to watch her brows knot and furrow as she became increasingly frustrated with what she was reading; when she was around her friends, her eyes lit up like her ring hitting the sunlight. These were easy things to notice, though. It wasn't hard to see how her hands moved wildly as she explained some sort of crazy story to those at her table in the Great Hall. It was so easy, in fact, that George's studies moved from potions to her every time the class began.

Though George had given plenty of thought to her, he hadn't realized just how much thought he'd donated. At least, not while he and Fred were plotting revenge. Though the bruises on the twins' faces healed over a month or so, their egos had yet to heal. They'd planned their revenge perfectly. The Slytherins who'd given them the shiners left dinner around the same time each night. The twins concocted an elixir that, with just one small drop on a person's head, would dye their hair for days. They'd positioned themselves on a balcony above the route which the Slytherins normally took. It was perfect - but, it wasn't. George took in the hall below him, scanning for the unsuspecting students, when his eyes caught something else. Her.

She was in the hall alone, book in hand, but unopened. It was odd. Normally, if she was by herself, she'd be focused intently on a book. But she wasn't. She was gently thumbing the pages of the novel, looking around the hall inquisitively. Was she waiting for someone? Or maybe she was-

Her eyes met his. His eyes met hers.

Not once in the weeks he'd taken up his sudden interest had she actually looked at him. And now she was. No - she wasn't just looking at him, she was seeing him, and with those eyes. They were so much brighter when they met you head-on - deeper, too. They held indescribable emotions. Curiosity? Maybe - he didn't know, nor did he really care to, because for five seconds, they saw each other. Then, George dropped his vile of elixir right onto Flitwick's head.

"Anything interesting going on up there?" Fred poked George's head. He hadn't even realized they'd already left McGonagall's office.

"Huh?" He mumbled, flicking his eyes around at his surroundings.

"She's got you bloody whipped, eh?" Fred showed off a toothy grin.

"What? Who?" George nearly scoffed at this sudden accusation.

"The girl you've been ogling at in potions. Your neck is gonna get stuck if you keep turning to look at her." He laughed. George scoffed, shoving into his brother.

"Just ask her to go to Hogsmeade with you. Take her to the Leaky Cauldron, get in a quick snog, and get over it already." At Fred's words, George let out a dry laugh and shook his head.

"Fred, you're mental." He let out a breathy chuckle.

"Nothing else? That's all?" Fred cocked his head, "She must've got'cha good. Maybe a couple quick snogs'll do it."

It was going to take more than a snog or two to get this off his mind now. He didn't even know her name - it was nothing. Just a couple stolen glances. But Fred noticed. When the hell did Fred notice anything? Maybe more people noticed. Maybe she noticed. George squeezed his eyes tight as he lay in bed that night - this strange, twisting anxiety had overtaken him and was turning his entire body inside out. Did he want her to notice?

George decided, as he woke up, that whatever it was he was dealing with, he had to get it over with. Before he did that, though, he would have to start his day. Pushing his toothbrush past his lips, all he could think about was her smile, or the way she frowned, or her lips pressed into a line every time she concentrated. When he tied his tie, his thoughts traveled to her wide eyes, full of laughter. He didn't even know her name.

He had a plan. He was going to talk to her - actually talk to her. He'd show up to potions early, ask her about her book, finally figure out her name. He was so focused on his preparations that when he began to descend the stairs, he didn't notice the oncoming pedestrian traffic, and - boom.

George stumbled back, quickly recovering from whoever he'd knocked into. The recipient of his force, though, wasn't as lucky: they ended up straight on their arse.

"Sorry!" He spoke quickly, "Didn't realize the stairs move." His smile (which had formed only a moment ago) faded entirely when he realized who he bumped into. Her. It was her, and she was early for breakfast.

"They tend to that," she replied, picking herself up. If he were a bit more suave, he might've helped her to her feet. Instead, he watched her stand, almost awe-struck by her movements. His gaze moved bashfully, eventually landing on the book that fallen to the floor along with her.

"Your book." He motioned to it quickly. In an attempt to make up for his lack of courtesy in helping her to her feet, he dove for the novel. And so did she. Their foreheads met with another smack, and they separated themselves before either could retrieve the object.

"Two for two, huh?" She let out a small laugh as she rubbed her head.

"Sorry," he repeated with sincerity as he successfully acquired her book from the floor. Once again, they were looking at each other. Seeing each other. George's lips parted.

"I'm George," he spoke, losing every ounce of confidence he normally possessed.

"I'm Y/N," she replied, "Could I have my book back?" George acquiesced almost immediately. He flashed a small smile that she quickly returned. Then, as the steps shifted once more, she began to walk away.

"See you in potions, George!" She called in an earnest tone. George grinned to himself. It was, after all, somewhat of a success. Even if he did - did she just say 'see you in potions'?

#harry potter #hogwarts #weasley #george weasley x reader #george weasley x you #george weasley fluff #george weasley #fred weasley #y/n #george weasley x y/n #fluff #crush #harry poter fluff #thursday writes

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eunoiathewriter · 2 years

Text

H. POTTER X F!READER

Synopsis: Harry Potter falling more and more in love with y/n Weasley.

Word Count: 10k

Second year:

The flight had been rather calm. For a fourteen-year-old, Fred had been driving quite well, a little wobbly at times, but not something that had made George, Ron, or Harry freak out. It had been dark when the flying blue car had suddenly appeared outside Harry's window. The three Weasley brothers had shown up at just the right time, helping him get out of 4 Privet Drive. Harry knew that his aunt and uncle would not have done what they did if it weren't for that elf. Dobby. But now he was away from there, and Fred had just landed the car outside a house that was built as if with time, more rooms had been built on it, adding on to the height.

As they entered, Harry was hit by a domestic feeling. The house is homely. As they entered the house and entered the kitchen, Harry noticed how each chair was unique. Even the cabinets were an assortment of different styles. The water at the sink was running and a pan was being washed by nothing. It was a spell.

Harry continued into the house and stopped at a clock-like thing where he could see pictures of all the Weasley siblings he'd met. The three pictures of Ron, George, and Fred moved from standing on "Lost" to "Home". The green-eyed boy scanned it and could even spot the three other siblings' pictures on the clock. Percy, Ginny, and y/n all pointed to "bed". Signalling that the other three were still asleep just at this moment. His eyes stayed a bit longer on the picture of y/n before he turned to what was left of the living area. In an armchair, it was as if someone was invisible and knitting, a pair of tapestry needles moving and knitting something Harry had no idea of what.

"It's not much, but it's home." Ron said this while chewing on a cookie from the table.

"I think it's brilliant," Harry breathed and looked up in amazement. Still in awe of it all.

The quiet and peaceful feeling soon left, however, as it felt as if his soul had left his body when Molly Weasley appeared out of nowhere.

"Where have you been?" She exclaimed at her sons, but quickly softened on seeing Harry for a split second. "Harry, how wonderful to see you, dear."

Ron, George, and Fred looked down as Molly continued. "Beds are empty. No note. Car gone. You could've died. You could have been seen. Of course, I don't blame you, Harry, dear. "

"They were starving him, mum, and put bars on his window!" Ron protested, and Harry nodded along with his friend.

"Well, you best hope I don't put bars on your window, Ronald Weasley." Fred and George, behind Ron, pulled faces at what their mum said. "Come on, Harry, time for a spot of breakfast."

Harry had piled a good amount of food onto his plate just as rapid footsteps bombarded down the stairs of the house, making Harry turn his head. "Mummy, have you seen my jumper?"

It was Ginny, or well, her real name was Ginerva, but it was George who had come up with Ginny since she didn't like her name. "Yes, dear, it was on the cat." Molly answered.

When Ginny came face to-face with Harry, she smiled a little mischievously, but was still in shock that he was there. But Harry simply smiled at the youngest Weasley. "Hello,"

Within seconds, Ginny bombarded up the stairs again, giggling as Harry and Ron gave her confused looks, but Fred and George snickered at Ginny. "y/n!!" They could hear the younger girl call for her older sister, making Fred and Geroge almost burst out laughing right there and then.

"W-what did I do?" Harry asked, confusion flooding his voice whilst taking a bite of his food.

"Ginny. She's been asking about you all summer. It's kind of annoying actually. " Ron said to his raven-haired friend.

Then someone came walking down the stairs of the house once more, but this time not with the same rushed tempo but a rather calm one. And to Harry's delight, the footsteps belonged to the one girl he was just as ecstatic to meet again as he had been with Ron. Her voice was what broke the silence at the table. "Mum! Can you tell Ginny to quit being a little gremlin?" y/n's voice had gone from pitchy to a more even one over the summer, from what Harry could hear.

"Oh, what is she doing now?" Molly asked just as it seemed y/n stepped down from the last step of the stairs.

"She isn't shutting up about...Harry?" y/n cut herself off as she turned the corner and saw Harry sitting on Charlie's chair beside Ron. Now this was strange. Weren't they supposed to meet him on the train?

"Hello." Harry smiled at the girl. She had clearly grown quite a bit over the summer. Even from where he sat, Harry could see she had gotten a bit taller. She wore long pyjama bottoms and a long-sleeved shirt, clearly having just gotten up. Harry didn't know it then, but his cheeks felt so hot because of the fact that he was slightly flustered. But how was a twelve-year-old supposed to know that?

y/n still stood glued to her place by the stairs, squinting at Harry, who furrowed his brows in confusion at her. Her eyes then travelled between the two twins, who seemed to be having a hard time breathing and then over to Ron. She didn't even bother to look over at Percy. She knew he had been sound asleep, judging by how out of it he looked.

Just as she was supposed to ask her brothers, however, it was Arthur Weasley walking through the door that stopped her. "Morning, Weasleys!"

"Morning, dad!" All the Weasley siblings greeted their dad, and Harry chimed in with a lower 'Hello' but still a smile on his face.

Arthur walked up and hugged y/n since she was the only one standing up and then just gently pushed her to go and sit down, which she did. "What a night, nine raids! Nine! "

"Raids?" Harry turned to Ron and y/n who had sat down beside her one-year-younger brother.

"Dad works in the Ministry of Magic, in the misuse of muggle artefacts office." Ron explained it to his friend as Arthur hugged Molly behind them."

"Dad loves muggles, thinks they are fascinating." y/n joined in with a smile, and Harry was slightly confused by the work Mr. Weasley did, but most new things in the wizarding world were confusing.

"Well, now." But Arthur stopped at seeing Harry as he sat down by the table. "And who are you?"

"Oh, sorry, sir. I'm Harry, sir. Harry Potter." He said, which made Arthur's eyes go just a little wide looking at the boy.

"God, Lord, are you really?" Arthur breathed. "Well, Ron and y/n's told us all about you, of course. When did he get here? "

Harry glanced over at y/n who was looking at her mum to hear how he got there. "This morning, your sons flew that enchanted car of yours to Surrey and back last night." Molly told, making both Arthur and y/n look at her with wide eyes.

"Did you really? How'd it go? " Arthur asked bewildered with a smile. To try to explain it, all the boys started talking about it to the man, but Molly made them all shut up when she hit her husband's shoulder.

"I mean, that was very wrong indeed, boys, very wrong of you."

"So that's what you sneaky little gits were doing!" y/n said pointedly at her brothers. Harry smiled to himself as Fred, George, and Ron all looked down a little.

"Well, you looked so peaceful when sleeping," George started.

"Besides, didn't you tell us just yesterday to let you sleep?" Fred asked to make an argument start between the twins and y/n. Harry and Ron shake their heads but still smiling. Arthur then asking Harry about rubber ducks.

——

Harry let out a deep breath of air as the memory of Tom Riddle was destroyed. In his hand he still held the basilisk's tooth, which was now bloodied along with his hand from stabbing the diary with it. The diary, which had once been intact with a black leather cover, was now completely destroyed by the vicious stabbings Harry had delivered to it.

He sat back, just as y/n's eyes opened. Her pulse had, without Harry's knowing, gone back to a more even one every time he stabbed the diary. Her eyes were wide as she breathed deeply, letting the oxygen enter her lungs and make her more and more stable.

Harry looked over at the girl as she began to sit up slowly, pushing herself up from her back with her arms. She was clearly very disoriented as she looked around to find herself in the Chamber of Secrets, Salazar Slytherin's secret creation.

"y/n?" Harry caught her attention, holding his hurt arm. y/n turned and found Harry sitting there; dirt and grime had stuck to his face and clothes. A few splashes of blood from the basilisk here and there.

"Harry," She breathed, clearly still a bit out of it, but soon started to apologise. "It was me, but I swear, I didn't mean to. Riddle made me. I just found the diary in Ginny's cauldron when we left Flourish and Blotts and... Harry, you're hurt. "

y/n had cut her explanation and apology off at seeing the boys' arm. He quickly covered it. Even though he knew she was a year older, she seemed very confused and scared just there and then. As if she wasn't already one of the smartest of her siblings. "Don't worry. y/n, you need to get yourself out. Follow the Chamber and you'll find Ron."

It was just then that the screech of Fawkes echoed through the chamber, the red phoenix standing out against the dark and gloomy place. Fawkes lands between the two, and he makes his way up to Harry. Seeming to look at him with sad eyes.

"You were brilliant, Fawkes. I just wasn't quick enough." Harry told the Phoenix, through gritted teeth, the pain was still very intense in his arm.

Fawkes took a look at Harry before leaning his head down towards the boy's arm. Tilting his head, tears, shockingly, fell from Fawkes' eyes. One. Two. Three. Four. Five. And with that, the circular wound from the basilisk bite was just a memory that had vanished with smoke. y/n's eyes went wide as she just stared at Harry's arm.

"Of course, Phoenix tears have healing powers. Thanks. " Harry thanked the phoenix. It's alright, y/n. It's over, it's just a memory. "

y/n's shoulders went from tense to relaxed. It was over. But this year, y/n had not been there to help through it all, she had caused it all, a burden that would loom over her for years to comeBut Harry couldn't help but crack the smallest of smile at seeing the girl alive again instead of dead like others pressured her to be. He knew how relieved her siblings and parents would be to see her alive again, and just as she looked up at Harry, he had to look away for a second. His cheeks were slightly warm under her gaze, and he had a boyish smile on his face.

Oh sweet little Harry, he really had no clue what all these feelings meant.

Third year:

The weather had gotten worse during the train ride to Hogwarts. The sky had grown dark and gloomy, with clouds covering the better part of it. Harsh drops of rain thundered against the window of the train. Sliding down the glass as if the drops of water were competing to see who could be the fastest.

Inside the compartment, it was luckily warm. Harry was talking about everything with Sirius Black that Arthur had told him just before they left for the platform. Ron sat with Scabbers and Hermione on the left side of the compartment, all while y/n sat beside Harry on the right one with Crookshanks having crawled up in her lap. By the window on the right side, sat an unknown man to the four. He was sound asleep. He wasn't snoring, but he hadn't moved an inch in response to the four talking.

"Let me get this straight. Sirius Black has escaped Azkaban to come after you?" Ron asked, slightly horrified at the thought.

"Yeah," Harry simply answered.

"But they'll catch Black, won't they? I mean, everyone's looking for him. " Hermione said.

"Sure,"

"Except, no-one's ever broken out of Azkaban before and he is a murderous, raving lunatic." Ron added after his sister attempted to reassure him. y/n gave him a 'really' look as she petted Crookshanks.

"Thanks, Ron." Harry thanked him sarcastically.

The train suddenly started to stop, breakes screeching. The sudden stop made all four tense, and Crookshanks quickly jumped over and curled up beside Hermione. Harry had reached out to steady himself at the stop and happened to lay his hand on top of y/n's. It made her turn her head quickly and just glance at it, making Harry quickly remove his hand.

"Why are we stopping?" Hermione asked with confusion. "We can't be there yet."

When Harry had recovered from his embarrassing move just seconds before, he stood up. He opened the door to the compartment and looked outside to see if he could get any idea of what was wrong. It seemed other students at Hogwarts had the same idea, as Harry could see fellow schoolmates doing just like him. But when the train shook vigorously, it caused the green-eyed boy to get thrown back into his seat inside the compartment as the compartment door closed. y/n squeaked as Harry stumbled back and moved out of his way. Pressed up against the wall of the compartment door.

"What's going on?" Ron looked around.

"Dunno. Maybe we've broken down. " Harry suggested it to the other three, but the lights went out just as he said so. Hermione and Y/N gasped as they looked up at the newly turned off lights.

"Ouch Ron, that was my foot." Hermione huffed at the Weasley boy who had moved to look out the window. Pressing his face against it and trying to just get a glimpse of what it might have been that caused the sudden stop. The light suddenly flickers on again.

"There's something moving out there."

y/n looked towards her brother, and her face held just the slightest bit of fear. Harry turned to her and saw the look. Her brows were pulled into a frown as she bit on her lip whilst looking from the window out into the hallway.

"I think.. someone's coming on board," For a second time, the lights had gone out and the train shook again.

The water on the window slowly started to freeze, frost painting it in various designs as it moved eight over where Ron's had been placed. The water bottle, along with the door window, began to freeze. It went from being warm to cold in a matter of seconds. Their breaths could be seen as they fogged into the air.

Harry began to rub his hands together to try and warm up, glancing at y/n who hugged herself. He reached out and put a hand on the girl's arm as he could still see her worried expression.

"Bloody hell! What's happening? " Ron asked as the train shook once more. All four teens had to reach down and steady themselves.

A tall shadow moved outside the compartment. It was cloaked as they could see something waving in the wind that the shadow had seemingly dragged with it. Moving slowly. All four of them were quiet as the only thing heard inside the compartment was their wavering breaths.

The shadow, or whatever creature it was, stretched out a bony looking hand, and without touching the door, it started to open. y/n, who sat closest to the door, wore a scared face as she moved from it and happened to move just a little too much so that she bumped into Harry. He didn't even bother that, but she moved from sitting shoulder to shoulder but still close to him. A slight fear takes over his mind.

The cloaked creature had fully opened the compartment door and now looked between all four friends. Crookshanks hissed at it as the only thing except it's cloak being seen was a black hole, like a mouth. It breathed deeply though.

The creature turned to the left side of the compartment where Harry, y/n and the man whose last name was Lupin sat. They all looked at it as if something had suddenly happened. It was just a matter of seconds before Harry started to grow pale, the creature moving closer to the boy who lived. y/n turned to Harry and shook his hand to get him out of it, but just as she did, the man beside Harry jumped up and a bright light was emitted from his wand. And then, Harry was out like a light.

When he came again, the train whistled loudly in his ears. The darkness that had consumed him for a few minutes was fading. "Harry? Harry, are you alright?" It was y/n.

He opened his eyes, and they hurt at the bright light from the compartment. He looked around, squinting as the world was a blurry mess for him. But as he looked around, he found his glasses being held out to him.

"Thank you." Harry took them from whoever it was and put them on. Finding it was y/n sitting on the floor in front of Ron and Hermione, smiling a little but still her brows were furrowed. Right by where his head had been, Crookshanks laid and looked up at him as he sat. Hermione, who sat close to Ron, a man who had to be Lupin sat, a calm smile on his face.

"Here eat this, it'll help. It's alright, it's chocolate. " The man held out a piece of chocolate for Harry to take, and he reluctantly took it. Looking weirdly at the man.

All four of them looked at Harry while he sat up and glanced over at the compartment door where the creature had been earlier. Finding it empty and back to normal. "Wha... what was that thing?" He asked, turning to the older man.

"It was a dementor. One of the guards of Azkaban. It's gone now. It was searching the train for Sirius Black. " Mr. Lupin said, staring at his feet. "If you'll excuse me, I need to have a little word with the driver."

y/n moved Crookshanks over to Hermione's lap and sat herself down by the window, right next to Harry. "Eat, you'll feel better." Mr. Lupin said as he left.

Harry nibbled on the piece of chocolate, staring off to the side whilst trying to make sense of it all. "What happened to me?"

"Well, you sort of went ruched. We thought maybe you're having a fit or something. " Ron's voice carried concern for his friends as he spoke.

"And.. and did either of you three, you know, pass out?" Harry looked between the three.

"No. I felt weird though, like I'd never be cheerful again." Ron answered.

"But someone was screaming, a woman." Harry looked at Hermione, then y/n, who both shook their heads.

"No one was screaming, Harry." Hermione answered for both, and he looked out the window to see the rain still pouring down.

——

The match against Hufflepuff had been going quite well. y/n, Angelina Johnson and Alicia Spinnet had been making loads of goals as chasers during the time they had been playing. Harry had to admit that the three girls were, without doubt, a good trio. Fred and Geroge had been doing their best to keep buldger away from the three girls, along with Harry. At times, the twins would focus on just one of the players to keep them secure from the Gryffindor team. Oliver Wood keeps on doing his thing. Keeping the quaffle away from being scored, though the yellow team had made a few goals.

Even through the wind and rain, Harry had heard Lee Jordan's commentary on the game. For some reason, he had grown a bit jealous of the commentator. Why? Well, it was quite simple. Lee was the only close friend except the Weasley siblings, Harry, and Hermione that y/n was friends with.

What Harry had understood, y/n, had been sticking out when she started at Hogwarts in 1990, the year before he did. The others just froze her out of anything that had caused Fred and Geroge to let her be with them and their friends. Leading to y/n and Lee Jordan being close friends. Maybe it was the whole linking arms thing Harry hated? Or maybe how Lee would just listen to y/n without even looking away, reminding Harry of how he looked at her.

Even now, as he had been racing around the quidditch stadium for the Golden Snitch, Harry couldn't help but feel jealousy bubble inside him when Lee had commented on y/n scoring a goal. He had to shake it off, but only for a split second before resuming his pursuit of the golden little devil. Harry looked down to see y/n having just flown past Fred and Geroge, who had cought up to their sister and was protecting her as she had the quaffle but soon passed it on to Alicia.

A second later, gold flashed before Harry's face, and in a matter of milliseconds, he flew right to where he saw it fly off. Cedric Diggory, captain of the Hufflepuff team and seeker, quickly followed after Harry. When they flew right past Ron and Hermione, Harry could hear Hermione cheering him on.

Harry and Cedric raced for the snitch, going further and further up into the sky. Right now, Harry was grateful to Hermione, who had cast an impervius charm on him and y/n, making it easier for both of them to see in the pouring rain.

A bolt of lightning then hit Cedric's broom as they had reached far up, almost to the clouds. It made the seeker freeze and start to fall down. Harry does not care one bit and continues further up to catch the snitch and win the game. But slowly, his broom began to freeze as an umbrella blew past him. But something more blew past him too. A cloaked thing.

It was not until he looked in front of himself properly that Harry saw the dementor that had flown past him. Quickly ducking it, Harry immediately started flying up, being chased by the dementor as one more joined in and more and more. When he reached a certain height, Harry let out a breath and stopped his broom from going further, letting himself fall down. He fell past a few dementors before diving at full speed with his nimbus. He then had to stop, however, seeing the sight below him.

Hundreds of dark-cloaked dementors flew around below him. Their faces were dark and empty as they looked at him. The rain was still pouring down and drenching him. When he was about to dive again, he just turned his head and came face to-face with one. The dementor made him lose consciousness and fall. The last thing he heard was the woman screaming once more.

"He looks a bit peaky. Doesn't he? " Harry could hear Ron's voice above him.

"Peaky? What do you expect? He fell over a hundred feet. " George told his younger brother.

"Yeah, come on, Ron, let's walk you up the astronomy tower," Fred started.

"See what you look like." Geroge finished just as Harry began to open his eyes.

"Probably a right sight better than he normally does." Harry spoke up and smiled, hearing all the others chuckle. This includes Seamus Finnigan, Neville Longbottom, the twins, Ron, Angelina Johnson, Hermione, and y/n. Or well, Hermione just let out a breath of air.

"How are you feeling?" Hermione's asked as Harry began to sit up and squinted to see as well as he could.

"Really, 'Mione?" y/n had her hands on Hermione's shoulders as she pointed out how foolish that question sounded.

"Oh, brilliantly." Harry remarked sarcastically to Hermione as y/n handed him his glasses. Giving her a shy smile as thanks.

"You gave us a right good scare there, mate." George said seriously, while sitting down beside Harry's bed in the hospital wing.

"What happened?" Now Fred and George would have laughed if they were not around Harry, as he looked over at y/n while asking that.

"Well, you fell off your broom." Ron stupidly tells as if he thinks Harry was a complete idiot.

"Really?" Harry once more spoke with sarcasm, which made y/n have to hold herself from laughing. "I meant the match, who won?"

y/n glanced over at a Hufflepuff student being taken care of, and it seemed that it made Harry catch on as he sighed in annoyance. But Hermione was quick to try and save the day. "Uhm, no one blames you, Harry. The dementors aren't supposed to come inside the grounds. Dumbledore was furious. As soon as he'd saved you, he sent them straight off."

Harry looked off to the side and earned a squeeze on the shoulder by y/n, silently telling him it was fine. He didn't say a word, but if y/n had looked close enough, she would have noticed the red tint that had painted his cheeks at her action.

"There's, uh, something else you should know too, Harry uhm," Harty looked at Ron, who held something wrapped in his arms. "When you fell your broom, it sort of blew into the Whomping Willow and, uh, well, it's uh.."

Harry only sighed harder when Ron showed him his broken broom. He knew that he would have to find another broom for the rest of the season until he could buy himself a new one. It was all so annoying. If Harry hadn't gotten so affected by the dementors, then he would have surely coughed up the snitch and made Gryffindor win. In his head, he cursed himself for being so affected and all.

It was clear to Fred that the boy wasn't in the mood to have people around him, so he began to usher the others away. "Come on guys, enough staring; he's not a muggle TV."

All the others, except y/n, Hermione and Ron, left. The three just stood there and watched as Harry stared up at the ceiling. But y/n who had glanced towards the door of the hospital wing could see no one else but Lee Jordan standing there. He waved at her, and she waved back. Having promised to help Lee and her brothers with a prank on the Ravenclaws later.

She turned back at Harry, who had a blubbering Ron above him, profusely apologising for his broom. y/n shook her head at her brother and patted his shoulder. "Oh, calm down, Ron. Harry knows you couldn't help it. No need to rile yourself up. "

"Exactly." Hermione agreed. "It is the dementors' fault for being inside the grounds in the first place."

"And it was the Whomping Willows' fault for the broom. I swear that tree is absolutely mad. " y/n added, making Harry feel better as Hermione and Ron laughed at her comment. which was, in fact, very true. The Whomping Willow was very strange and just absolutely mad. Not really the safest tree on the school grounds.

"Anyway, don't beat yourself up, Harry." y/n walked to the end of his bed and placed a hand on his leg with a sincere smile. "We'll beat Slytherin in our next match when Malfoy doesn't have a 'broken' arm. I've got to go, but I'll see you three later. "

With a last smile, y/n had walked away from the trio and over to Lee, who had been waiting. Harry's gaze followed her as she walked over to the referee. Something inside him was bubbling, making him look away from y/n, walking off with the older boy.

Maybe that was why she'd never liked him. Harry was a year younger, but he knew that not many girls would choose someone younger. He looked down at his hands. His pale face got painted a crimson colour right across his cheeks. It almost matched his quidditch jumper.

Hermione looked at Harry strangely, then over to where y/n had disappeared. She thought back to how it was as if Harry almost always sought to know what the older girl thought of something or how she was doing. A grin then broke on the bushy-haired girl's face, unable to keep her laugh in as she came to her conclusion.

It made the redhead beside her turn and give her a confused look, then she looked over at the ravenhaired boy, who had no idea what Hermione was laughing at. "What? What got you laughing like a lunatic? " Ron asked, but Hermione didn't answer, a few tears escaping her eyes from laughing.

"Hermione, what?" Harry also asked. This time, Hermione whined her eyes and took a few deep breaths to calm down.

"No, it's just... you know what, it doesn't matter."

Oh boy, oh boy, had Hermione just won the lottery in figuring something out?

Fourth year:

Harry had really been dumb enough to think that his fourth year would be a normal year. He should have understood that this year wouldn't be any calmer than the last three when he had all those nightmares over the summer. Then at the Quidditch World Cup, both the dark mark were cast and the death eaters destroyed the fun. He really should have taken all of that as a sign that this year wouldn't be calm. even when the Triwizard tournament was announced.

But still, here he was. Almost three months into the school year, pacing back and forth in the Champions tent. Waiting for the first task to start. Harry was oblivious to the sympathetic looks he earned from Cedric Diggory and Fleur Delacour of the Beauxbatons Academy. Victor Krum, from Durmstrang Institute, is focused on himself.

How Harry had entered into this was beyond him. However, it appeared that people did not understand that he was not interested in the eternal glory that this tournament would bring. He was already known around the world as the boy who lived. If he just said his last name, everyone knew who he was, which he didn't exactly love.

"You really think I believe you'd want to put your life at risk when a dark wizard is already out for you?"

What she had said, what y/n had said, played over and over in his head. Once more, she showed that she understood him. She was at least intelligent enough to know and notice how much Harry hated the attention he already got for just being himself.

The roar of a dragon made everyone in the Champions' tent look towards where the arena supposedly was. Harry shook his head, and when he met eyes with the Hufflepuff boy, he nodded at him before continuing to pace around.

"Psst!" Harry whipped around at the sound with furrowed brows. "Pssst!"

He walked over towards the back of the tent and listened in. It seemed whoever was there noticed someone else was on the other side, and soon they spoke up. "Harry, is that you?"

"Yeah." He answered, y/n. Her voice calmed him down at least a little. Knowing she trusted him had made it a tad bit easier.

"How are you feeling? Okay?" She didn't get an answer. Only a low sigh. "The key is to concentrate. After that, you just have to—"

"Battle a dragon." Harry stated bluntly, however, when y/n began to scurry around on the other side, it only took her a second before she hugged him. A low whimper left her as she was scared for the boy.

It took him a second to steady himself as y/n had her arms tightly around his neck, hugging him close. But he didn't waste a second in hugging her back, making sure to take the opportunity since they never really hugged like that.

It was the bright flash and click of a camera that made the both of them let go. Both of the teens looked over to where the flash came from, only to find Rita Skeeter. The same journalist who had written the overly exaggerated Harry page in The Daily Prophet. "Young love," The woman sighed dramatically.

"How... stirring." Rita's appearance in the champion tent made all the other champions turn and watch. "If everything goes unfortunately today, you two may even make the front page."

"You have no business here." Viktor Krum appeared behind Rita, an irritated look on his face. "This tent is for champions and friends."

y/n was relieved as she had talked with Viktor on one occasion earlier with Hermione. He happened to not know where the potions class was and asked the two girls for directions. And, maybe, he had been flirting with Hermione then.

"No matter, we've got what we wanted." Another photo of Viktor and Rita disappeared.

Just as Harry turned to ask y/n something, Dumbledore appeared from the back entrance where y/n too had come from. Barty Crouch was behind him. "Good day, champions. Gather 'round please."

Harry moved to stand next to Dumbledore, and y/n, who had no idea of what to do, only grabbed a hold of Harry's wrist. One hand held his sleeve and the other interlocked with his hand. It was hard for the boy to concentrate, but he did his best, holding the Weasley girls' hands gently.

"Now, you've waited, you've wondered, and at last the moment has arrived, a moment only four of you can fully appreciate." y/n looked at Dumbledore as he spoke, still holding onto Harry.

When he was done, however, Dumbledore noticed that something was wrong and looked over at y/n who stood beside him with Harry. The girl looked away from the headmasters, embarrassed. "What are you doing here, Miss Weasley?" Dumbledore curiously asked.

"Oh, um, sorry. I'll just go. " y/n shot a look at Harry as she backed away, relaxing her hold on his hand and quickly sliding out of the tent. causing Harry to look back, slightly perplexed, at the look he received from the older students

Blimey.

——

Harry watched from afar as The Weird Sisters finished the song, all the students at the Yule Ball cheered and stopped dancing.

Just like everything this year, the Yule Ball has not gone much better for Harry than anything else. Even though he wanted to ask y/n he chickened out and tried to ask other girls, but did the same there. Then when he decided that he needed to ask y/n to the ball, he got to hear from the twins that she already had a date. Which he tried to know who it was but y/n refused to tell him.

So now he's sitting there at the ball. He ended up going with Parvati Patil, who had ditched him for a Durmstrang guy, someone older. And Harry now knew who y/n had gone with. Of course, it was Lee Jordan. When he had walked into the great hall for the champions to dance, the green-eyed boy had spotted y/n with Lee.

Just as The Weird Sisters had stopped playing, Harry could spot y/n who had been dancing all night, giving Lee a hug before making her way out of the sea of students. She was beautiful, and Harry hadn't expected anything else. She had a silk dress like many other girls, but hers was the most beautiful to Harry. Her hair done to suit her and a pair of heels.

"I'm leaving." From beside Harry, Ron grumbled, standing up and downing the last of his drink. "You coming?"

"I'll be a bit longer," Harry said, and Ron just shrugged his shoulders before leaving. Clearly not in the mood to see Hermione happy with Viktor, she danced on and on.

Just as Harry turned back to find y/n he saw her walking towards him. When she knew she had cought his attention she pulled a overdramaticly pained face. It made Harry raise his brows in question and when the girl was close enough she sat down on a chair next to him.

"Ouch." She groaned. "Remind me to never dance in heels again." With that she kicked off her shoes and sighed in relife.

"Can't be that bad." The statement earned Harry a slap on the shoulder. Causing him to chuckle at y/n as she got comfortable beside him.

It then got quiet. Harry thought about what to say or ask next. He cast a gaze over his shoulder to see Lee Jordan chatting with Fred and George. Angelina sat by Fred's side as the four older students chatted away. "So, you and Lee, huh?"

It took y/n off guard as she whipped her head vigorously towards Harry with a scrunched up face. "Lee, no, ew. What makes you think me and him are someone? "

"Sorry. I just thought, you know, you went here with him. " y/n and Harry were both flustered. Harry because of his assumption and y/n of how quickly she had denied liking Lee in that way.

"That's because of Fred and George. I didn't have a date and neither did Lee, so they suggested we go together. " y/n explained. "Now, don't get me wrong, I love Lee. He's a close friend of mine and all. But this all he is to me, a friend. Plus, Lee isn't exactly the kind of guy that goes after his best friend's little sister."

Harry felt completely and utterly dumb. So for the past year and a half, he had gone around thinking that y/n liked Lee and Lee liked her. But, it turned out, he still had a chance.

"Oh, okay."

"Well, don't you sound happy?" y/n joked, shaking his head, a smile spreading across his face. "Anyway, your date left you. Did you screw up that badly or is your charm just not working, Potter? "

"Haha, very funny."

They both laughed, not saying anything more. But y/n sighed, bending down and putting in her heels again, making Harry look at her with suspicion as she smoothed out her dress. Turning to Harry, she held out her hand for him to grab, but only earned an even more confused face from the boy.

"Now I won't accept a no. Come on, let's dance." Knowing full well that she wouldn't accept a no, Harry grabbed her hand and, with a smile on his face, let her pull him along to dance.

"One sickle that he confesses first." Fred challenged his twin as they watched the two from afar.

"Two sickles that she confesses first and before she leaves Hogwarts." Geroge shot back at Fred.

"Okay, two sickles that he confesses first."

"Are you two seriously betting on which of your sister and Harry will confess first?" Angelina questioned. The two brothers shared a look before shrugging.

"Okay, then I want two sickles if she confesses first before she leaves Hogwarts and kisses him at the same time." Lee added.

Angelina frowned and sighed, "Oh my god."

Fifth year:

"Make it a powerful memory, the happiest you can remember. Allow it to fill you up. Keep trying, Seamus!" Harry encouraged as Dumbledore's army were in the room of requirement. Harry was teaching them all to produce a patronus charm, though he warned all of them that not every wizard or witch could produce one, so if they were unable to, they shouldn't beat themselves up about it.

Harty walked around and watched as all the students in the army tried to produce their patronuses. Some stood and thought about what happy memories they had as others went straight to try and cast the charm. It was hard. "A full-bodied patronus is the most difficult to produce, but shield forms can also be equally as useful against a variety of opponents."

Harry explained as he walked around. Gratifying Ginny when she produced a unicorn that ran around in the air. It was hard to teach, though. If Dolores Umbridge hadn't taken over as Defense against Dark Arts teacher, they would all have learnt these things. But the pink-wearing woman had only been placed at Hogwarts as a control mechanism for the Ministry.

Harry continued to wander around and explain as Hermione produced an otter as a patronus. It swam around her, making the bushy-haired girl smile. Then he passed Ron, who produced a dog. It ran around the floor and somehow was able to make Neville fall as it ran straight at his legs.

He then continued to walk around, his eyes almost every other second cast towards y/n who stood and thought. Harry frowned as he watched her just stand there, her wand in hand. But what he didn't know was the memory playing in her head.

"No, Harry. I'll be sick if we continue. " y/n laughed as she leaned against the wall in the Great Hall. Watching Hermione continue to dance with Viktor.

"So you drag me to dance and then won't when we do?" Harry asked as he leaned against the wall beside her.

"Potter, you've been spinning me 'round like a mad-man. Of course I'll grow sick of that. " The Weasley spoke matter-of-factly.

"Well, excuse my poor dancing skills then,"

"Shut up."

They both let out sighs. Looking around. y/n was actually quite sad that Ron had left early, but oh well, his problem, not hers. A great number of students had left for bed during the night, but many still danced. Some of these people were Fleur, Cho Chang, Cedric Diggory, Viktor and Hermione, Fred and George, Angelina Johnson, Lee Jordan, Seamus, Dean Thomas, and so many more.

Harry looked over at y/n with a smile, still feeling stupid about how he had been thinking y/n liked Lee. His eyes stayed fixated on the girl. She was always able to attract his attention. He knew that in a room full of girls, she would be the only one he'd be looking at.

She turned to say something, but instead caught Harry, who was staring at her. He felt his face heat up, and he looked down at his shoes. It made y/n smile mischievously, turning so she leaned her shoulder against the wall instead of her back. Now fully facing him. "Something the matter, Potter?"

Harry shook his head, looking up from his shoes. But he was caught off guard by y/n moving some of his hair away from his face. It made Harry look at her, a sweet, soft smile plastered on her face. Her e/c eyes were gentle. It made him smile too. A boyish one. A cute one, in y/n's opinion.

"Expecto Patronum," y/n said just as Harry had come over to help her.

A blue, silvery light emitted from her wand as she spoke those two words. The flow of magic made Harry stop and smile as he watched it form into a doe, but something was off about it. The magic animal stood right before the girl, and as he looked closer, Harry could see the faint outline of horns, like it was somewhat becoming a stag. The same as his patronus.

The patronus stag slowly walked around y/n, who wore a smile at the great animal. The horns are still visible. Hermione, who had seen it, walked slowly up to Harry. Her eyes were on the patronus that faded into nothingness when it stopped once more in front of y/n and bowed its head. Hermione tapped Harry's shoulder.

"Harry? Not to be like that, but ehm... doesn't that seem like a stag to you?" Hermione whispered to her friend and earned a look that told her yes.

"And you have the same type of patronus, correct?" Harry nodded, and the look on Hermione's face made him frown.

"What? What's wrong? "

"Oh no, nothing, just... just keep doing your thing." Hermione slid away from her face with a grin like a Cheshire cat. Getting Ginny's attention.

"What is it, Hermione?" The youngest Weasley asked with curiosity.

"I think we can confirm it now." Hermione whispered lowly, which made Ginny gasp.

"Are you sure?" A nod came from the greatest witch of her age.

——

y/n walked through 12 Grimmauld Place. The summer had come quicker than expected. y/n had been helping her mum and dad clean up all their things so they could return to the burrow. But before she left, she had to find him. She needed to check in on him.

She had been looking through the whole place, making her way from room to room. That was until she had walked up to the third level. Looking through the rooms, she had just passed one with the letters R.A.B on the door. y/n had figured out that each bedroom had the family member's initials on them. Further down the hall, one of the doors was closed. She looked into the open room that was a study room, but it was empty. Looking back at the room with the closed door, y/n found the initials she was looking for. S.O.B. Standing for Sirius Orion Black.

She took a breath and gently knocked on the door. She didn't hear anything from inside, so y/n opened the door a little, glancing inside. Inside the room, y/n found Harry sitting on his godfather's bed. His back against her as he looked out through the window.

"Harry?" Her voice was gentle as she opened the door up a little more, waiting for him to give her a sign to leave. But he didn't. Harry only cast a glance over his shoulder before turning his head back. To y/n, that was Harry's way of telling her it was fine to go inside, which it was.

She closed the door gently behind her. Not wanting her parents, siblings, or anyone else from the Order to hear their conversation. She valued Harry's privacy and whatever he told her didn't need to be told to the whole world.

y/n moved slowly around the bed, so she stood at the foot of it. Not far from where Harry sat. She could see him holding the picture of the original Order of the Phoenix. It had been folded so the side facing his face showed his parents, Lily and James Potter, and beside them stood a younger looking Sirius.

"My family is done packing. We're leaving soon if you want to come with us over the summer. " y/n offered to him, unsure of what to say. But Harry only stayed silent. It made Y/N sigh as she moved to stand more in front of him.

When she did, she got a better look at his face. His eyes were slightly red, and his face pulled into a pained look. She didn't sit down if Harry wanted her to leave. "Harry? I'll leave you alone if you want to. " She waited for any sign that she should stay, but when he gave her none, she started to leave.

It was the tugg on her wrist that made her stop walking away. His grip on her wrist was firm, but his gaze was fixed. It made her kneel down in front of him on the bed and move to hold his hand so she could hold it, but his grip tightened. "Don't leave."

"Harry—" "Don't leave." His gaze finally met hers, a few tears streaming down his cheeks. y/n frowned and moved to wipe away the tears, shaking her head.

"I won't. I'll always be here. "

She stood up, brushing Harry's hair out of his face. He didn't care anymore about trying to stay strong, but instead broke down. Harry wrapped his arms around y/n's midsection, catching her off guard as he pulled her towards him. It took a second before she slowly wrapped her arms around Harry's head gently. Hugging him close. She could feel the slight shaking of his shoulders.

"It's fine, I won't leave." Y/N reminded him as she gently stroked his hair.She pulled away slightly from him, but Harry's arms stayed wrapped around her midsection. She looked down at Harry and pulled his face between her hands.

He didn't have his glasses on; they lay on Sirius's nightstand, so he didn't see her very well. But he could make out her face as she looked down at him. y/n brushed his cheek, then the lightning bolt scar on his forehead before hugging him close. And she stood like that, in front of Harry, who quietly let his tears fall as he hugged the girl close, finding comfort in her presence. At times, she whispered comforting words to him while stroking his head. After some time, y/n had leaned her head down to rest on Harry's.

After some time, you suddenly saw the door open. Harry didn't hear it when it squeaked. As the door opened fully, it revealed Ron, Ginny, Fred, and George standing there. They were all quiet as they looked at the two. Ron mouthed something which made y/n move her hand to show them to be quiet. George motioned that it was time to go, clearly feeling sympathy for the boy around y/n's waist. But y/n only waved for the four to leave and close the door. They were doing as she wanted.

So y/n stayed there with Harry, not caring how much time went by. She just wanted the boy to feel better

Sixth year:

The Gryffindor common room was buzzing with happiness from all of the students. Everyone was happy that the Gryffindor Quidditch team had won against Slytherin in the snowy weather. It is definitely one of Harry's proudest moments at Hogwarts. He was the captain and they had won.

Harry walked back into the common room with Hermione beside him. The girl had finally calmed down from the heartbreak of seeing Ron with Lavender Brown. Harry patted Hermione's back with a small smile, and the witch smiled in appreciation of her friend. "I'm gonna—"

"Go, Harry." Hermione sighed and smiled at the boy. "I already know what you're planning on doing. You've been nervous all day."

He stayed quiet. He thought he had been very good at hiding the fact that he fancied the older Weasley sister. However, he appears to have been unsuccessful. "How did you—?"

"She's over there, by the window." Hermione pointed out to her friend as she made her way over to Ginny and some other girls. Leaving Harry to stand by himself.

Harry turned and found y/n, as Hermione said, by the window. The older girl stood with a bottle of something in her hand, taking small sips at times. The boy took a breath before making his way over.

"Hey," Harry said, as he awkwardly made his way closer to her. y/n turned with a tired and lazy smile on her face to face him.

"Hi," Harry could tell she was tired because she had been studying for her NEWT level exams, which she had a lot of.He had found her sleeping by the table in the common room a few days erlier, having fallen asleep while studying.

"Tired?" He earned a hum in response as y/n took another sip of her bottle. "Let me guess, Fred and George helped you get that in?"

y/n let out a quiet chuckle at him and nodded her head. He was quick to understand what it was. Of course, it was a smaller bottle of beer. "I haven't been drinking much of it though, if that's what you think."

"No, no, just.. asking." Harry moved to stand beside her.

"Poor 'Mione," y/n told as she looked out through the common room. "Ron really is blind."

Harry hummed. Mind elsewhere as he tried to figure out how to do this. He didn't know if now was the best of times, seeing as y/n were exhausted from quidditch and studying. But Harry also knew that if y/n had taken over as Captain for the team this year too, she would be asleep already. Hence why she'd given over the role as Captain to Harry.

"You're not going to celebrate, Captain? Are you just going to stand here with boring old me?" y/n teased, knowing full well that Harry didn't exactly like to be the centre of attention.

When she got no answer, y/n put her bottle of beer in the indent of the window. She turned so she faced the boy who lived. She could see how deep in thought he was and it made her smile. His green emerald eyes were staring off into the distance. So, she did as she'd done two years earlier on the Yule Ball, the day when the tension between them really grew. She brushed some of his rvaenhair out of his face, the scar becoming visible. Harry turned his face towards her, his eyes locking with hers. His cheeks got red from the eye contact, and y/n could feel hers heat up as well.

Harry found his courage, one of those elements Gryffindor students were to have to be placed in the house to even start with. He moved closer to y/n, eyes at times flickering from her eyes to her lips. y/n thought he was going to make a move, but when he didn't, she leaned in and connected their lips. Her hands gently held his face.

It was a quick kiss, one that was so quick that Harry wasn't even able to react before y/n pulled away. She held his face still in her hands, the boy looking at her slightly shocked. She was now unable to keep from telling him, because who knew what would happened with Voldermort back. "I love you, Harry. I have probably ever since my fourth year, but I really like you."

"Really?" Harry breathed with a boyish grin growing on his face, which made y/n smile at him.

"Really,"

Harry did not waste a second as he leaned in and connected their lips once more, smiles on both their faces. y/ns hands were still on the sides of his face as Harry's hands landed on her hips. After all those years of pining after her, he was now kissing her, and she liked him back, and it was brilliant. Her lips were as soft as he'd imagined. She teased faintly of the beer she's been drinking. This was just perfect.

——

Fire encircled the burrow as Harry sprinted out of it and passed Remus, Tonks, Arthur, and Molly. Both older men called out for him as he ran straight for an opening in the fire, following the evil and psychotic laughter that belonged to Bellatrix Lestrange. The murderer of Sirius. Harry's wand was already in his hand as he rushed after the mad woman. Tonks and Remus followed behind him, but the fire closed the small opening, as if they weren't supposed to leave.

Tonks tried to manipulate the fire with her wand but was not successful in getting a good opening for Remus to run through. Just then, y/n had rushed down the stairs after Harry as they had just talked, pushing past her parents with her wand at the ready. "y/n!" Molly cried after her daughter as she ran straight for the fire and jumped when she had a chance at getting through.

"I killed Sirius Black! I killed Sirius Black! I killed Sirius Black!" y/n heard Bellatrix chant as she followed Harry through the tall grass. Following both the sound of Bellatrix's chanting and the running of Harry.

She continued running as the grass slapped her in the face at how fast she was running, but she didn't care. It was hard to know exactly where Harry had gone. Once heard herself step in what sounded like water, and she stopped. The legs on her pyjama bottoms were getting soaked.

When she heard the sound of someone moving in the tall grass, she turned around. Trying to spot the person. "Harry?" She asked, the wand still in her hand.

But it wasn't Harry. Instead, out stepped Fenrir Greyback. The most known werewolf in the wizarding world, the same werewolf that bit Remus and turned him. The man smiled evilly at y/n who'd started to back away further into the shallow water. She then jumped slightly as Harry came running up behind her and moved in front of her. "Stupefy!" But Fenrir repelled the spell easily.

"Harry!" Remus could be heard calling out as y/n and Harry cautiously turned in every direction to make sure no one was there. But in seconds, Bellatrix and Fenrir began to shoot spells at the two teenagers mercilessly. Harry and y/n standing back to back and repel each spell.

"y/n!" Arthur called for his daughter.

Finally, Tonks, Arthur, and Remus reached the two and stood protectively around them. Harry grabbed Y/N's arm and pulled her towards him as they stood close to one another. They are waiting for another set of spells, curses, jinxes, and hexes to be sent their way. But no more came as the three evil wizards disappeared into black smoke and flew towards the burrow. Seconds later, the house stood in flames.

"Molly." Arthur said in shock as he turned, seeing his house on fire and began to run.

y/n stood wide-eyed before she began to run after her father. Harry followed her swiftly through the tall grass and when they were close y/n slowed. Her childhood home stood before her in flames as all her other siblings, Fred and George, Ginny and Ron, stood and watched on as the house became ash. Molly was hugged by Arthur as they watched.

Harry came up beside y/n, seeing the troubled look on her face as he brushed his pinky finger against her hand. showing he was there. Without a second thought, y/n grabbed his hand and moved closer to him, holding on to him for dear life.

Everything was to get worse. This was just the beginning, and all of them knew it.

And Harry could feel it.

Seventh year (before going for horcruxses):

"I won't leave my family, Harry." y/n told the boy as he sat on her bed. Having come to her before going to bed. Having just gotten to the burrow that night.

He looked up at her from where he sat, his eyes begging her to go somewhere she could be safe instead of staying with her family. He knew that she'd be threatened as she was a known close friend to Harry, or well, for the past six months, known girlfriend.

"You'll be in danger if you stay here, you and your whole family. I don't want you to get hurt because of me anymore. " Harry argued.

"You can't tell me what to do. You may be Harry Potter and my very caring boyfriend, but I'm still old enough to decide whether I want to fight or flee.

"Darling," Harry sighed at her; she was and had always been stubborn."Please."

"I'll be fine, Harry." y/n sat beside him. "I'll be staying with Fred and George at Weasleys' Wizards Wheezes."

Harry turned and faced her, reaching out and brushing some hair out of her face just like she usually did with him. Then, leaning in and placing his forehead against hers, y/n melted into it. sighing as she held his hand.

"I'll be fine,"

"Don't get my hopes up," Harry told her.

"And I want you to come back alive." Y/N stated solemnly.

"I'll be fine,"

"Don't get my hopes up."

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tkaulitzlvr · 8 months

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Help I love your writing so much I get so excited when you post 💗 can you do a “one bed” scenario please where reader and Tom are like ‘enemies’ but not really 🤭

🛐🙏 I CANNOT TELL YOU HOW MUCH I LOVE YOUR STORIES THANK YOU!!!

ONE BED - T. KAULITZ

synopsis: when there is a mixup in the amount of hotel rooms the band were meant to book, you and tom are forced to get a lot closer than you have ever before - much to your annoyance.

content: angst

a/n: thank you so much i’m so glad you enjoy my writing, it really means a lot!! and thank u for the request i hope u like it!

“hi, um we have five rooms booked under the name kaulitz.” bill says, leaning against the receptionist’s desk as she nods slightly, beginning to type something on her computer.

we had been travelling all day, looking forward to getting some rest, the boys performing in two days, their tour coming to an end. i wasn’t part of the band, but i came with them on tour, having known them all my life, it had just become routine that i would join them, no matter where they went. they were my family, and i loved them all like brothers, well, apart from one of them. tom.

he had never warmed up to me, our personalities always clashing for some reason. and, even though we had grown up, maturity supposedly coming with age, we still despised each other just as much as we did all those years ago, the tension never really easing, tolerating him being all i could do - and even that proved difficult sometimes.

“sorry, what was your name again?” the receptionist asks, peering upwards from her computer and looking at bill briefly, taking a quick peek behind him as we all stand tiredly, wanting to go to bed, the delay only irritating us more.

“kaulitz, k-a-u-l-i-t-z.” bill says, spelling his last name out, turning to face us for a second, a puzzled expression on his face as i send one back his way, confused on what is taking this long.

i hear tom tut behind me as he drops his bags down on the ground with a thud, my eyes meeting his as i send him an annoyed look, him pulling a face back and pulling his phone out of his pocket.

“okay, we have you booked in, but you’ve only paid for two rooms.” the woman behind the desk says, looking upwards once more.

“oh that’s not a problem.” bill begins, pulling his wallet out and searching for his card. “i must’ve made a mistake, i can just pay for three more.”

“i’m sorry sir, we’re fully booked. that won’t be possible.” she says, standing up from her desk and finding the keys to the two rooms bill had somehow booked.

my eyes widen, gustav and georg doing the same as we share confused glances, wondering how we are going to fit into two rooms, when we had planned to all have our own as we did every time we stayed somewhere. sure, we would usually all hang out in someone’s room together, but we each needed our space when we went to bed, none of us keen on the idea of sharing.

“but, there’s five of us, we can’t fit into two rooms.” bill says, panicking a little as he tries to reason with the receptionist, desperate for a solution.

meanwhile, tom rolls his eyes, muttering a small ‘fucking great’ under his breath, thinking that none of us hear. but, i am far too tired to scold him for it, too focused on thinking of a way to fix this.

“i apologise sir, but there’s really nothing i can do.” the lady sits back at the desk as bill begins to walk away, the five of us standing in the middle of the lobby, wondering what the fuck we were going to do.

“bill how the fuck did you manage to book two rooms instead of five?” tom breaks the silence, massaging his temples and glaring at bill.

“maybe if you did something for us all once, instead of leaving it all to me whilst you sit on your ass then this wouldn’t have happened!” bill shoots back, georg, gustav and i rolling our eyes, not wanting to hear another one of the twins’ arguments - especially not right now.

“guys this isn’t the time for your bickering, let’s just see how many beds the rooms have, and we can figure it out from there, okay?” georg says, tom and bill reluctantly nodding their heads as we all squeeze into the small elevator, next to no room between us as we try to fit five people, plus our luggage into it.

we all make it inside, my side pressed against tom’s back. he groans in frustration, trying to move me off of him. “jesus christ you wanna get any closer? might as well climb on my fucking back.” tom scoffs.

“i don’t know if you’ve noticed but this isn’t exactly a spacious elevator. shut up whining and deal with it.” i reply as the doors open, all of us pouring out of it, thankful to have some personal space and fresh air. we walk to our rooms - 401 and 402, praying that there are five beds between the two rooms, and none of us will have to share.

we walk into room 401, the decor minimalistic and clean, seeing a small living room with a decent sized couch that someone could sleep on. the bedroom is a few steps away, bill and tom walking ahead, the rest of us walking in and seeing two single beds.

“thank god.” bill sighs in relief. “three of us can stay in here, the other room should be the same. let’s go check to make sure.”

we all nod, walking to 402 as bill uses the keycard to unlock the door. we walk in, the room completely different to the one next door.

“you’ve got to be fucking kidding me.” tom mutters, rolling his eyes as he looks at the room, knowing that there is now a pretty big problem.

it is much smaller, a double bed placed in the middle of the room, glass doors leading out onto the balcony and an en-suite bathroom at one side of the bedroom. somebody would have to share.

“no way am i sleeping here.” gustav says, bill quickly nodding in agreement, georg running into the other room as they both follow, leaving tom and i alone in the smaller room.

“no! absolutely not, no way.” tom quickly says as he realises the situation, storming into the other room and shaking his head, catching the other guys’ attention as i follow behind him. “there is no way i’m sharing a bed with her.”

he turns around to face me, pointing an angry finger in my direction as he spews out his frustration, making it pretty clear that he doesn’t want to be anywhere near me. i stand silently, rolling my eyes at his childishness, not at all keen on the idea either, but i refrain from making a scene as he just did.

“tom you don’t have a choice, it’s just one night, grow a pair.” bill says, earning a quiet laugh from georg behind him.

“please bill, i can’t share with him. i’ll do literally anything.” i beg, feeling nauseous at the thought of having to sleep in the same bed as tom.

“sorry guys, it’s only for a night. i’m sure you’ll be fine.” he shrugs, flopping into his bed, his luggage sprawled out on the floor, nobody caring about the mess. “goodnight, try not to kill each other.”

i scoff at his comment, exiting their bedroom and waving to gustav, who is laying on the couch. tom follows behind him, gustav’s eyes widening as he realises the situation, mouthing a quick ‘good luck’ before i leave, letting tom close the door behind him. none of us say a word walking to our hotel room, my hand reaching for the keycard as i open the door, leaving it open for him to walk in, though it is tempting to slam it in his face and let him sleep in the hallways.

i lift my luggage onto the bed, opening the suitcase and looking for a pair of pyjamas, pulling out a small white crop top and plaid pants. i scramble for the bag that has all my skincare inside it, about to pull it out before my suitcase is tossed aside, looking upwards and seeing tom glaring down at me.

“can you move? your suitcase is taking up all the room.”

i tut, shaking my head and grabbing my bag, zipping the suitcase back up and putting it in the corner of the room, staying silent as i make my way to the bathroom, tom sprawled out on the bed the last thing i see before i close the door.

my comfy clothes on and makeup off, i open the door, seeing tom laid shirtless on the bed, some basketball shorts covering his lower half, cap off and dreads in a ponytail, laid back as he searches through the channels on the tv, which is turned on at an unnecessarily loud volume.

“jesus christ are you trying to get us a noise warning? turn that shit down.” i say, snatching the remote from his hands and lowering the volume, harshly shoving it back into his lap.

he sniggers slightly, enjoying the way he can frustrate me by doing the smallest of things, my mind sometimes questioning wether he does it on purpose, wanting to get a reaction out of me.

i climb into bed at the opposite side, getting under the covers and switching off the lamp at my side, yawning as i realise how tired i really am, tom seeming to be wide awake as the tv continues to blare around the room, the bright light emitting from it stopping me from falling asleep.

“can you turn it off? i want to go to sleep.” i ask, already frustrated, his presence alone enough to anger me.

to my surprise, he doesn’t fight me on it, no rude remark coming out of his mouth, the room being taken over by darkness as he turns it off, an uncomfortable silence taking over as i lay on my side at the edge of the bed, trying to get as far away from him as possible.

his breathing is heavy as he lays flat, his legs stretched out as he clearly doesn’t care about our proximity as much as i do, his leg slightly touching mine. i physically can’t move it any further away, my limbs almost hanging off the edge of the bed as it is. instead of telling him to move, i kick his leg slightly, pushing it away.

“ow! the fuck was that for?” he says looking over at me as i turn to face him, his features only just distinguishable in the dark.

“you’re hogging the entire bed, move!” i shoot back, rolling my eyes.

“you’re not using the space, so why shouldn’t i? you’re getting all pissy because our legs touched, i cant fucking help it, we’re sharing a bed.” he says, stating the obvious.

“i can’t take this.” i mutter, grabbing my pillow and a spare blanket from the cupboard, setting it up on the floor next to the bed.

“what are you doing?” tom asks, sitting up and peering over the bed as i lay down on the floor, moving around to try and get comfy, the surface hard and uneven, much unlike the bed above me, which was actually comfortable.

“the fuck does it look like i’m doing? i’m sleeping on the floor since you’re being such an ass.” i respond, shutting my eyes and trying to fall asleep, but i can still feel tom’s gaze burning into me.

“don’t be ridiculous. get into bed.” tom says, moving over and giving me a little more space.

“no.”

“why not?”

“because you’re pissing me off, okay? you’re just so fucking irritating. shut up, just shut up for once in your fucking life tom!”

silence. i expect another clever comeback, or a witty insult from him, but he stays silent, causing me to open my eyes in confusion. i sit up, looking in tom’s direction and seeing him laid down, staring at the ceiling with his jaw clenched. he looks strangely hurt, like my words had actually impacted him. they never had before, the both of us able to hurl the harshest of insults at each other and brush it off, but this time it seemed different.

“what, did i hit a nerve?” i scoff, genuinely in disbelief of the way he has switched up so fast, his usual heartless demeanour far gone as he lies in silence. “you know it’s the truth tom, you’re always out to get me and i’m sick of it. you’re the most annoying-”

“yeah, i think i got it.” he mumbles, shaking his head and turning around onto his side so he is facing away from me.

“the fuck is up with you?” i say, standing up and moving onto the bed, sitting cross-legged as i try to take a glance at his face, this proving impossible.

“you’ve made your point. just stop it, leave me alone.” he mutters, his voice tired, a little upset too.

“jesus, you can’t seriously be hurt by me saying that! you’ve said all sorts of shit to me, why are you getting so pissy?” i ask, laughing a little, struggling to understand where his change in attitude has come from.

he stays quiet, his body still as it still faces away from me. i give up, accepting defeat and realising that i wont get a response out of him, feeling a little guilty for some reason, although he has said way worse to me and felt no remorse.

i grab my pillow from the floor, putting it back onto the bed as i slip under the covers once again, knowing that i would have gotten zero sleep if i had spent the night on the floor. i lay down, my back flat against the mattress, eyes falling shut as lethargy soon takes over. sleep is seconds away from consuming me, my mind almost falling into a slumber, until i feel a warm hand touch mine, stretching outwards so that it is fully covering it, the certainty of its movement way too strong for it to be an accident.

my eyes shoot open, seeing tom already looking in my direction. he doesn’t move his hand, quickly ruling out his touch being an accident. i don’t pull away, i don’t ask what he thinks he is doing, i don’t call him some childish name. instead, all i can do it look into his eyes, my body still and breathing heavy.

he stays silent too, his body slowly moving closer to mine, my stomach dropping as nerves take over, too intrigued to stop him. he hesitates, before bringing his hand upwards, his other still holding mine, and moving the loose strands of hair out of my face.

“you know i never hated you, right?” he whispers, positioning his hand next to my face once he has moved the hairs covering my features.

“what?” is all i can say, having no idea what the fuck is happening right now, wondering wether this is all some crazy dream.

“why do we act so cold towards each other?” he asks, not moving away from me, his head resting on the pillows, just a few inches away from mine.

“it’s always been a pretty mutual thing tom.” i say, unsure of what else to respond with, unable to remember a time that tom and i hadn’t constantly been at each other’s throats.

“you’re the most oblivious person i’ve ever met, you know that?” he says, breathing out heavily. for a second, i swear i see a smile on his face, but i blame it on the darkness, convincing myself that it is making me hallucinate.

“what do you mean?” i ask, genuinely confused.

he pauses for a second, almost like he is contemplating something, his mind and heart arguing with each other as they fight against acting rashly. i await his response, about to speak again, but i am stripped of the choice, feeling his warm lips quickly collide with mine.

i am stunned, unable to kiss back as i slowly process that his lips are on mine. but, i don’t pull away either, strangely liking it, feeling as if a part of me that has always been missing is finally fulfilled. after a few seconds, i feel tom try to pull away.

“i’m sorry, shit i-”

i cut off his rambling, swiftly reconnecting our lips once more, wrapping my hands around his neck and pulling him closer to me, his taking my waist and moving me so that i am now on top of him, not breaking the kiss. his lips mould perfectly with mine, fitting together as if they were always meant to be like this, moving against each other in sync.

everything is a blur, from him kissing down my body, our clothes being thrown carelessly on the floor, bodies moving against each other, both of us crying out in pleasure, to our release, the entire moment happening so fast that it seems like a dream, something i had made up as a result of my tired state.

“what the fuck? guys, come look at this.”

“did they not hate each other ten minutes ago?”

“oh my god! look at tom, i’ve never seen him hold a girl so close before.”

“jesus christ, are they naked? is that her bra?”

“thank god the sheets are on them, i don’t even wanna know what’s underneath.”

i begin to stir, the sound of muffled voices slowly waking me up, my eyes fluttering open. i am greeted by three boys at the foot of my bed, their eyes widened in shock, small giggles escaping their mouths. i look downwards, seeing that my clothes are gone, my body covered by the sheets. i turn to my side, tom fast asleep, his arms draped around my waist, body also bare with his torso on show, lower half thankfully covered, the memories of last night flooding back.

“did you have fun?” bill smirks, georg and gustav bursting into fits of laughter, the sudden noise waking tom up as he opens his eyes, seeing the situation in front of him, his hands scrambling for the sheets to fully cover us both.

“guys what the fuck? get out of here! leave!” he shouts, frantically waving his arms about, reaching for a pillow and throwing it at them as they rush out, making exaggerated kissing sounds until the door closes, both tom and i sighing in relief.

“assholes.” tom mutters under his breath, stretching before bringing my body closer to his, our legs tangled together.

“do you regret it?” he asks, his voice more serious now.

“what? of course not. do you?” i say, worried that he thinks it was a mistake, acting out on pure lust, using me for a quick fuck.

he laughs, watching the way my face drops.

“what’s so funny?” i ask, confused on how he can find my concern so hilarious.

“nothing, nothing. no- i don’t regret it either, why would i?” he says, gently stroking the bare skin of my waist, planting a short kiss on my forehead.

“and here i was thinking you hated me this whole time.” i laugh.

“how about i show you how i really feel again, hm?” he smirks, flipping us over so he is on top of me, placing open mouthed kisses to my jaw and neck as i squeal, my hands moving to his hair as he smiles against my skin.

requests are open! keep sending them in!!

#tom kaulitz #kaulitz twins #tokiohotel #tom kaulitz angst #kaulitz #tom kaulitz fluff #tom kaulitz smut #tom kaulitz x reader #tomkaulitz #bill kaulitz

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silverstonesainz · 7 months

Text

insatiable

─── the one where carlos can't seem to get enough frat!carlos x reader 2.6k words 18+, minors dni (warnings under the cut)

d rambles. . . once again. i have lost the plot. i got the word insatiable and this is where we ended up. hope u guys like it, and sorry it took so long.

warning(s). . . dry humping & a bit of titties. this is pretty tamed for what it could be

carlos is annoying. he might be across the room, but somehow he still manages to set your every nerve on fire. and the worst part of all this is that you can’t be annoyed.

how can you be annoyed that he’s basically chest to chest with some girl when you’re wrapped up in someone else. mark, you think is his name. you aren’t even sure. he yelled it in your ear when he was chatting you up but if you were being honest, you only indulged because you wanted to prove a point: you can play his game too.

“do you want another drink?” mark— god you hope his name is mark— asks, thumb rubbing your side.

you feign a sweet smile, shaking your head. “no i’m good. i have to head home soon anyways.”

the boy chuckles, “you can always spend the night… i do have a room here.”

you laugh, maybe a little too hard from the way the boy’s face contorts to one of embarrassment. you shake your head, patting his chest as you slyly pull yourself from his hold. you set your empty solo cup on the messy bar top before turning to him, “i’d rather be caught dead than to sleep at a frat house.”

mark nods, sipping his drink. the house is quiet, the kickback dwindling down as people begin to turn in. lando continues to play his mix, the led lights paint the room different colors, and the party seems to continue even if people were attached to the ends of the room in conversation or being led upstairs. you want to turn in, god your eyes burn with exhaustion, but your pride and ego coax you to stay. you just want to see if carlos would bring the girl up to his room.

he has every right to. why wouldn’t he do it? she’s pretty and he’s… he’s not yours.

that’s a point you both made the morning after a silly hook-up. just sex, nothing more. it’s why you leave after all is said and done, why you don’t take him up for coffee, or even sit with him in the library to study. it’s just sex, nothing more.

you try to remind yourself that as you watch carlos lean down to say something in the girl’s ear, watch as the girl laughs a little too loudly. you roll your eyes. he’s not even that funny.

“you plan on leaving anytime soon?” your head snaps back towards the boy, shaking your head to answer his question. “well maybe i can entertain you elsewhere while you’re here.”

before you can answer, you feel an arm sling over your shoulder. you look up to find alex, who doesn’t pay you any mind and directs his attention to the boy in front of you.

“george is looking for ya matt.” oh… it’s matt. “upstairs.”

the boy stares up at the older brother, nodding. “uh.. yeah right. i’ll see you around.” he says to you. you smile curtly, watching as the boy scurries away and disappears up the stairs.

alex pulls his hand from your shoulder, chuckling softly, “now tell me why you were chatting up the pledges. you know you’re way out of their league.”

“just bored.” you shrug, arms crossed over your chest. you take a peek behind alex’s tall frame, frowning to find that carlos and the girl has disappeared. you huff a sigh, “i’m gonna go. i have an early morning.”

alex nods, “i’ll walk you out.”

you do your rounds, say goodbye to friends and other familiar faces. alex follows you, nearly to the door, before he’s whisked to the mystery that goes on upstairs. you don’t mind though, making your way out the door and shutting it behind you. you stuff your hands in your pockets as you make your way to your car.

“you know, it’s a bit rude not to say bye before you leave.”

you turn around, taking a few steps backwards before coming to a stop. you stand at the end of the walkway, watching as carlos messes with his hair as he makes his way down to you. you roll your eyes, repositioning your arms to cross your chest. “you seemed a bit… occupied.”

he chuckles at the way you say it, like it’s sour on your tongue. “celosa?”

“no.” you hum, pulling out your phone to order an uber. “so where is your new friend?”

carlos reaches out to you, hand swiping your phone from your grasp before taking a peek at your screen. “she’s not my friend.”

“so girlfriend then?” he shakes his head. “fuck buddies?” he scowls.

“she’s no one. why are you ordering an uber, i can just drive you home.”

“don’t you live here?” “and?”

you bite down on your lip. on the one hand, you’d be saving a bit of cash and yourself an awkward car ride home at two in the morning. but on the other hand, you’re still annoyed with carlos. but the boy doesn’t give you the chance to ponder your options, pulling out his car keys from his back pocket and clicking the dark blue ferrari unlocked. it’s parked a couple cars ahead of the driveway, between alex george’s own. carlos hand you your phone back with a soft c’mon. you inhale sharply, taking the phone from his grasp and stuff it back into your jacket pocket.

he opens the passenger door for you, shuts it, before running over to his side and turning on his car. the car ride was… well it wasn’t comfortable. you didn’t intend on picking up a conversation with your— with him— the image of him and that girl still fresh in your mind. truth be told, you’re a little more frustrated with yourself than you are with him, because you know what being with carlos means: it means not really being with him at all. it means being with him when he’s in the mood to be with you. and you can lie to yourself and say that it’s fine, that you can live that arrangement. and maybe in the beginning you could but now you find yourself slipping. drowning.

but carlos doesn’t like the quiet tonight.

“so you and matt?”

you can’t help but roll your eyes. “what about it?”

“when did that happen?” “what’s it matter to you?”

carlos’s head snaps in your direction for the briefest of moments. you see him in your peripheral, the way his head flicks up and down in the short second he stares at you before returning his gaze to the road. “just a question.”

he makes a turn towards your apartment, and you’d never been so relieved to see home. but then he stops. carlos parks against the curb and turns off his lights. you scowl, fingers curling into your palm. “carlos.”

“why are you upset?” “i’m not.”

he raises his brow at you, and your narrow your eyes at him. “i know you. you are.”

“okay and if i am?” you snap. “it doesn’t matter.”

he scoffs, “of course it matters.”

you almost let him fool you. almost believe that he cares more than he lets on. almost.

you huff an annoyed breath, zipping your jacket all the way. “i’m gonna walk.”

“oh for fucks sake,” he leans over you, pulls the cracked open door and shuts it. “you’re not being fair.”

“carlos i want to go home.”

you glare at him. the anger bubbles in your chest when you clock the calm expression on his face, his wide brown eyes scanning your features before his hand comes up to rub his face. he says your name so softly, so gently, says it in a way you long to hear it forever.

“we were just talking.” he’s referring to the girl. your glare falls, gaze moving to the denim that hugs your thighs. “ai mi bichito, its wasn’t anything.”

“it never is.”

“because it’s not.” carlos tucks his index finger under your chin, pulls your eyes back to him. “don’t be upset with me bug.” he leans in, his cologne filling your senses as you he presses his lips to your cheek. “okay?” another kiss, then again to your jaw. “please?”

the butterflies come alive in your stomach, makes you nervous as carlos continues to move along your jaw and down to your neck. he readjusts his hand, his fingers now combing through the hair on the side of your head to hold you closer to him. he hums your name against your skin before he places another wet kiss on your neck. another plea to stop being upset as he pulls the silver zipper down your jacket and popping it open.

he pulls away, leaving you high and empty. you inhale, suddenly remembering to breathe. carlos’s thumb strokes your cheek, the pad of his thumb rough against your skin, while his wide eyes plead for some sort of forgiveness. and you should walk home. thank him for the ride and walk away.

but instead you close the gap, lips crashing against his. the kiss is hot, feverish, needy. it’s teeth clashing while hungry hands pull the other closer than allowed. his fingers weave themselves into your hair while yours are desperately grabbing at the back of his head. you moan softly as carlos bites down on your bottom lip, tongue slipping into your mouth. warm, wet, bold as it dances along with yours.

“too far.” he breaks the kiss to pull you over the middle and onto his lap. his lips are quick to reattach themselves back on your neck, hands pushing your jacket down your shoulders and off your arms, leaving you in a black cotton tank-top.

you’re sure that you’ll have a reminder of your weakness later, but it was too good to stop. you enjoyed the grazing of his teeth, the way he pulls away to lick along your skin before sucking again. you hum, grounding your hips into his. carlos hisses, hands moving to grip your hips to a halt.

“don’t start something you can’t finish baby.”

you smirk, “you doubt me?”

a pause. just a beat of silence before he laughs, shaking his head, “never.”

you smile, dipping your head to meet his lips. your hands cup his cheeks as you kiss him deeply. he releases your hips, allowing your to rock against him. he grows hard beneath you, hear him grunt as you speed up the motion. he detaches his lips from yours, moving to your collarbones. you feel his fingers dance along the skin of your shoulders, pulling the flimsy straps of your top and bra down. he pulls and pulls and his lips chase the neck line of your shirt until your breast spill out. the cold air of his ferrari sends a shiver up your spine, hardens your nipples.

carlos bites down on his lip, eyes bright as he stares at your chest. “pretty tits.”

you bite the inside of your cheek, watching expectantly as he beings to squeeze them in his hands. he massages, kneads, before pulling one into his mouth. he looks up at you while you feel his mouth around you. his tongue traces circles lightly around your bud, flicking it up and down before sucking. his opposite hand pays equal attention to your other tit, pulling and kneading, fingers rubbing your nipple before pinching lightly.

you throw your head back, moving your hips faster, desperate to chase a kind of pleasure you’re not even sure you can achieve. your legs were beginning to ache and your jeans were beginning to hurt. but the pleasure, his fucking mouth, outweighs the discomfort.

he bites down on your nipple, make you help. he chuckles against you, kissing your breast before switching to the other one. sucks and sucks, before he pulls away and kisses along the supple skin. he sucks, leaves marks that would surely bruise within the hour. you look back down, watch him with his eyes squeezed shut as he marks your delicate skin.

“need you” he mumbles. “want you.”

he releases you, leans back to watch you move against him as he reaches down to pull his shirt over his head. and in the midst of it all, you see it. the purple bruise below his collarbone. a hickey, one you know you didn’t leave for him. its a shot to your ego, makes you uncomfortable in the moment and sucks all the fun you were just having.

“i-“ you choke up on your words, swallow tightly as you clear your throat, “i can’t.”

carlos pulls his shirt off, brows furrowed. “what’s wrong?”

you pull the straps of your bra and top back onto your shoulders, reaching over for your jacket. “nothing. nothing just… i can’t. not in your car.”

carlos watches you pull yourself together on his lap, pulling your jacket back onto your shoulders. he looks confused, stares as he tries to guess why your mood has suddenly shifted. you look back up at him, the stupid thing on his chest staring right back at you. you smile thinly, lips pressed together tightly.

“well can i come up?”

you shake your head, “early morning. but next time… i’ll ah… i’ll make it up to you.”

against better judgement, against the voices screaming in your head to run, you lean down to press a soft kiss against his lips. you try to leave things open, to give him a bit of relief that everything was okay even if it really isn’t. and maybe even to as a way to ensure that you could still return to him when your feelings are no longer hurt.

how fucking pathetic.

carlos holds onto the back of your head to kiss you for a moment longer than you intend. then he releases you. “let me just drive you.”

“it’s fine. i cant walk, it isn’t far.”

“i’m not gonna let you walk alone at almost 3AM. if you won’t let me drive you, then i’ll walk with you.”

you sigh, nodding as you breathe a reluctant okay fine. you open the driver door, climbing off his lap and out of the car. cold air kisses your warm skin as you stand there, waiting for carlos to climb out of the car. you both walk the short distance to front door of your complex. you hum, digging for the keys in your pocket before looking up at him.

“thank you for the ride.”

carlos nods, reaching up to tuck a hair behind your hear. “of course… so when am i gonna see you again.”

his phone rings before you can answer. he picks it up, and you catch a glimpse of the screen before he pulls it towards him. mindy. mindy, at three in the fucking morning.

carlos presses on the power button, ending the call before looking back up at you. “i’ll see you tomorrow?”

you chuckle dryly, shrugging, “busy tomorrow.”

“okay so thursday?”

“i dunno.”

“friday?”

you laugh, shaking your head. “god, you’re insatiable.”

he smiles, its wide. so wide you see the small dimples above his upper lip, so wide his cheeks round out and eyes squint ever so slightly. “only when it comes to you.”

you rock on your feet. heel to toe. heel to toe. you almost forget. the girl. the hickey. mindy. he smiles, says shit like that and you almost forget that he’s not yours.

but he isn’t that girl’s. he’s not mindy’s. he’s not anyone else’s.

and maybe you could live with that for just a little longer before it crushes you.

“i’ll call you.” you reassure him. stupidly reassure him.

he nods, leaning down to press a soft kiss on your lips. “okay. text when you get in.” you nod, kissing him once more and he smiles. “goodnight mi bichito.”

you smile, allow the flutter in your stomach to warm you up and wrap up your wounded ego. “goodnight carlos.”

come to the house party!!

#🔖 house party #carlos sainz #carlos sainz x reader #carlos sainz x you #carlos sainz one shot #carlos sainz blurb #frat carlos

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