#the detail on the robes ... i love her sm
Note
I was hoping to request a Regulus Black x fem!reader
Where the reader is a pure blood and Slytherin and regulus is friends with her since he was a kid.
As they grow up the reader starts finding sirius attractive, but regulus watches this from afar. Hurting silently. And he confesses too late
Idk I kinda want a sad ending 💀
a/n: I usually put these at the end but here you go. I had sm fun working on this request and honestly, I don't think I did your idea justice. I took some creative liberty and kind of changed the idea. But the dynamic remains. I hope you like this <33
warnings: mention of smoking, outbursts, kissing, use of the word b@stard, I use certain words a lot so maybe it got boring.
anyway, I hope you enjoy it.
Wc: 0.95k
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Unspoken Words That Linger In The Air
- Regulus Black
Y/n L/n hated smokers, ever since she was young she'd seen her father smoke at every occasion possible. The smell of secondhand smoke became so familiar to her that it was almost nauseating.
When Sirius Black became her boyfriend, elevating from best friend's Brother to long-time crush to this, it became a rather obvious detail that he had to quit smoking.
He tried, he really did, and it worked for a while. But alas it was still his go-to coping mechanism. He couldn't let go so easily.
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Sirius returned from his quidditch match, in which Slytherin had won against Gryffindor, and Found his girlfriend waiting in his dorm.
the other boys were still downstairs celebrating and wouldn't be up here for a while.
"How was your match?" She spoke first.
"Great, Sorry we took a little detour before coming here, didn't wanna be here after the awful loss"
"I get it," she said with a smile.
A moment passes...then another.
Slowly...
She pulled him in by the neck, smiling only slightly before kissing him as his lips curved into a smile.
He tasted sweet..
he tasted like chocolate.
Remus's chocolate, that the werewolf always refused to share but would often somehow find missing.
He tasted like strawberry.
The strawberry-flavored taffy Lily always carried in her robes for James, oblivious to the fact that he hated strawberries, they'd often end up with Sirius anyway.
And he tasted like...
.... cigarettes.
The nauseating smell came back. It hit her senses like a bludger.
She pulled back.
"you smoked again." She stated, disappointment lacing her voice delicately.
"I thought you quit" she continued and it sounded unsure, as if she was doubting it.
"y/n I-"
"did you lie to me? Or did you just pick it up again?" It sounded broken almost but still hopeful.
She didn't let him answer and instead walked away.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
"He never listens" came the exasperated voice of Y/n as she sat on the deep green leather couch of the common room, the fire from the fireplace warming her just a tiny bit through the coldness of the space.
"I just don't understand how you are still dating him" said Regulus's cold voice, cutting through the brief silence.
"Alright regulus, he's not that awful"
"one moment you're complaining to me and the next you're defending him, great," he replied in a bored voice, seemingly done with the conversation.
"He's your brother Reg, You can't hate him forever" Her voice was calm, unlike Regulus's which seemed to be growing louder by the second.
"He's not me. And he was my brother, and I just don't understand how you can love him." His voice was stressed as if trying to prove a point.
"Merlin! What's your problem Regulus? I don't understand why you're always so against me and Sirius dating?" Her voice also started to raise, matching Regulus's tone.
"There. That. That's the problem y/n! Merlin! you're so stupid!."
"Excuse me-" Y/n tried to interrupt but was spoken over.
"No. he isn't even willing to quit smoking for you! What kind of a boyfriend is that? I quit because you asked me to." He tried to reason.
"Well, He's not you Regulus-" Again tried.
"Merlin! You don't understand. You don't understand what you do to me y/n. You don't understand how your smile makes me happy or how your tears make me sad. you don't understand how every time I see you smile because of that bastard, It hurts me. You don't understand how bad I want that bastard to be me-" His voice was broken, it sounded so hoarse and so broken.
"-You don't understand how Unconditionally and irrevocably in love with you I am."
His voice boomed through the common room, the two students playing exploding snap in the corner immediately stood up and went to their dorms.
"w-what?" she let out, as a whisper, no other sound could have escaped her.
But it did. in the form of a question.
"you love me?" It sounded stupid but she needed it said once more to believe it.
Regulus didn't say anything. He didn't need to.
An unspoken 'yes' lingered in the air.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
It was past cerfew but her feet still took her to the astronomy tower.
That's where she always went after an argument with Regulus.
It was the one place she always found solace in.
As she walked up the large stairs her feet made little to no sound. Even as they halted after seeing a familiar figure come into view.
Sirius was there, smoking again.
The soft glow from the cigarette illuminated his features in a warm light.
He looked calm.
"you're smoking again" Y/n broke the silence as she leaned against the wall of the tower similar to how Sirius had been.
"It...umm gets stressful without you around." That was an excuse of a response.
"I suppose it does even when I am around" Her reply was far from sarcastic, it was true. Highlighting the fact that she'd caught the smoke a day ago as well.
"what's the matter?" Sirius could tell something was wrong, he always did.
"I had an argument with Reg..." she replied, almost ashamed at her petty fight with her best friend.
"what about?"
"what do you think?" she retorted with a question, that was the only thing that seemed plausible.
A glint of hesitance washed over his features, a moment of guilt followed after.
"was it because of me?" it came out a little louder than a whisper, seemingly too careful.
She didn't answer, she didn't need to, she simply laid her head on his shoulder, the silence spoke for itself.
And an unspoken 'yes' lingered in the air.
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A/n: Not the proudest of this one but i like it
Likes and reblogs always help<33
#fanfiction#sirius black x reader#young sirius black x reader#marauders x reader#regulus black x reader#regulus black#marauders fanficion#marauders era fanfiction#regulus black fanfiction#harry potter#regulus x reader
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somewhere in the shadows | chapter one
Some initial A/N: Hello my near and dear friends! Welp, here it is — my new spark of creativity. I’ve been playing Hogwarts Legacy and there was just a sudden urge to write a fanfic, ya know, so here I am. I have more detailed and important author’s notes at the end, but I just wanted to paste a little blurb here. Anyways, please enjoy this short and sweet introductory chapter! (And once again please make sure you read my other notes at the end!)
***
Eleanor Laverne learned first hand that pleasant morning that there were, indeed, 142 stairwells in Hogwarts castle. Even though she woke up at the crack of dawn to brew some tea and prepare herself in her overwhelmingly blue common room, she felt like a first year frantically dashing through all the hallways and corridors and stairwells in the maze that was her new school.
Wonderful — her first day, and she’d show up to class after it already finished with her legs feeling like pudding.
To be fair, it was technically her first year here — she was just starting on the fifth year curriculum. Still, she was sure that someone of her 16-year-old stature looked quite appalling racing through the halls in comparison to that of a puny first year. Well…on the bright side, at least she could out run them and their short, stubby legs.
She glanced around, positively sure she passed the same portrait of a lady in an impossibly puffy pink dress who was, at this point, snickering at her valiant efforts of getting spectacularly lost. The watch on her wrist read 8:13, her first class began at 8:15, and at this point, she might as well have admitted her defeat on getting to class on time. After all, she had absolutely no clue where in the castle she was. She could have been on the opposite side of the school for all she knew.
She must’ve been rushing forward with her head on a swivel for a moment too long because she abruptly met something before her with a thunk. In doing so, all of the books that were, moments ago, held safely in her grip, splattered gracefully over the stone floor.
Splendid.
She was already late — she didn’t need obstacles, either.
But the obstacle turned out to be another person as she heard a surprised, “oof!” and the sound of footsteps plummeting forward.
She shook the dizziness from her head and steadied herself, only to find a brunette boy peering over at her with a wince. “What was that for?” he asked, and she wanted to laugh as if her sprinting spree was intentional.
“Sorry,” she grumbled, bending over to reach for the book closest to her.
8:14. Bloody hell. On her first day.
“Wait,” the boy began slowly as she heard the click of his shoes against the floor nearing her. “You’re the new fifth year, aren’t you?”
His statement beckoned her gaze, and she soon found herself gaping at this obstacle-turned-boy who happened to be a Slytherin student with quite possibly the sweetest face she’d ever seen. She didn’t believe in stereotypes but…for a Slytherin…he looked too…nice.
He reached out to hand her a few books he managed to pick up before someone called, “Seb! Come here! Defence Against the Dark Arts is about to start!”
She didn’t think her eyes could get any wider.
Defence Against the Dark Arts! That was the class she was looking for! Meaning…this lovely-looking Slytherin student that so happily picked up books for her after she nearly knocked him flat on his nose…was her classmate. What a truly memorable first impression — on her hands and knees picking up books and papers because she couldn’t simply watch where she was going.
“I suppose this is your class, too,” he said, offering her a hand to get up. She took it without any thought and stilled at the difference between his warm touch and the cold marble floor.
“It is.” She quickly released his hand and brushed off her robes.
He chuckled, and she noticed a sprinkle of freckles over his cheeks as he smiled. “Got a tad lost, did you?”
“Perhaps,” she huffed, “let’s go.”
His bright smile was disarming. “After you.”
Never, in her whole life, would she ever expect to feel glad for nearly running someone over. But here she was, her heart racing at a surprising speed perhaps by her brisk morning jog or by downright embarrassing herself in front of her new charmingly freckled classmate, letting out a satisfied sigh as she found her very first victory this morning.
She checked her watch.
8:15. Brilliant.
She was on time.
***
A/N: Alright folks, strap in because you’re in for a ride. I’m just kidding, but there are quite a few creative liberties that I have chosen to take, one of which is age. I have chosen to have Sebastian and Anne get held back a year before starting Hogwarts due to their parent’s death, while also raising the default age by 1 — so first years would enter around 12, and 7th years would be 18-19 by the time they graduate. (To be honest, having a 15 year old take something as life altering as the O.W.L.S seems crazy to me). Also, the way Hogwarts Legacy modeled their characters makes it seem like they’re at least 17-18, so, you know, with my unbridled creative liberty, I did just that.
This makes Seb 17 at the beginning of the year, while most of the other students are 16. I don’t know their actual birthdays, but I imagine Sebastian to be 18 before the term ends, and the MC 17. Listen, I know it’s completely wrong, but just bear with me for the sake of this story.
Other things to note: this goes pretty much in line with the main plot of the game, and, because of that, I’ll probably skip writing scenes like the beginning dragon attack, etc. etc. but it will be referenced. Also, I know that this technically takes place in the late 1800s but this is a fan fiction and I know nothing of the wizarding world (or anything, really) in the late 1800s, so most likely it’ll read like the current writing it is and there may be contraptions or what not in this fanfic that might not have even existed in the 1800s. I dunno.
Lastly, Sebastian and the MC have so much witty banter between one another, and if there’s one thing you should know about me, it’s that I love witty banter. Plus, I think that there are some options that could have been taken towards the end that could have…(positively?) affected the ending of his relationship questline. At the end of the day, I am truly just imagining an alternative ending and what could have happened, had they given Sebastian a different path. Plus, you know, some innocent romance, too, because why the hell not. Don’t tell me you didn’t ship your MC with him. He’s so flirty! Also, if you would like me to post this anywhere else like fanfic or wattpad, let me know! Anyways, I’ll stop rambling now. Thank you for reading and see you next time! Xoxo ~Cass
#Hogwarts legacy#Hogwarts legacy MC#sebastian sallow x mc#sebastian x mc#sebastian sallow#fanfic#fan fiction#alright folks here’s a hashtag rant#I hope y’all enjoyed it#I know it super short but I just wanted to gauge interest#I just had written too many self indulgent pages that I was like#fuck it let’s post it#anyways please let me know what you think!#And ya there’ll probably be some fanart too#lmaoooo the author’s notes are longer than the actual chapter itself#sorry I’m a rambler
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morrigan headcanon when? 👀
THANK YOU FOR ASKING !!OK SO WHEN I SAID HEADCANNONS I WAS REFFERINGT TO HER CHARACTER DESIGN IN THIS POST BUT I HAVE BEEN DYING TO TALK ABOUT IT SO I WILL EXPLAIN SOME OF MY FAV DETAILS
On her waist she has three large golden disks things, each with different symbols. The disk in the middle has a symbol that is supposed to look like the ancient elven art that depicts dragons and Mythal. The other two disks on either side is supposed to be waves (the ocean) and the moon, because in dalish Lore Mythal was supposedly born from the moon and the ocean. This is supposed to show her connection (or servitude if she drank from the well) to Flemmeth/Mythal.
She is wearing a necklace with a golden lion on it to show her service to Empress Celene , as this is the House Valmount sigil.
I also showed her association with the grey wardens with the little crest on her waist and the silver star bracelet (the star bracelet is the symbol my HoF uses)
On her right hand she is wearing the ring that connects her either to the warden or her mother (she still has this ring because my HoF doesn't romance her) I tried to make it look like "a twisted loop of rosewood" like how it was described in game but its kinda hard to tell.
She wears a lot of fur, because she is ferelden and most ferelden characters have fur in their designs. wish british ppl were real.
She also has a bunch of little bones on string wrapped around her body and her staff, because I noticed this on the Avaar characters and imagine she picked up a few customs from the Avaar.
Its not very noticeable but she also has and scars on her arm to show that she practices blood magic
She also has a lyrium potion, a health potion and a skull on her belt. I included the skull because you can use a nevarran skull as a crafting material in dai and thought she would probably use it too lmao.
I also included a lot of references to her concept art outfits in this as well as various mage robes found in dao and I gave her kind of goth inspired hair and makeup just bc it suits her I think.
IF ANYONE HAS ANY SUGGESTIONS FOR OTHER CHARACTERS I COULD RESEIGN PLZ TELL ME I LOVE REIMAGING DA CHARACTERS SM
#this is the ramblings of a mad man#yapping#character redesign#morrigan dragon age#dragon age#morrigan#dragon age art#dragon age headcanon
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quick to judge
request from nonnie: Hi Erica! I love your writing sm, and was wondering if I could request a fic with either George or Fred (I’m partial to George but I love them both esp since they both live long happy lives 🙃) where reader is on a rival quidditch team (pref slytherin chaser but up to you!) and F/G have to get over their innate dislike of her because of the rivalry because she’s like the perfect girl for him? No worries if you don’t like the idea, I just wanted to ask, thank you❣️❣️
request from nonnie: if your requests are open can i request 11 & 23 from your writing prmopt list with george weasley? “knock it off, you tosspot! | “join us tonight?”
pairing: george x slytherin fem!chaser
prompt(s): “knock it off, you tosspot!” | “join us tonight?”
word count: 3.9k
A/N: i loved these requests—thank you darlings! i don’t write slytherin all that often so when i do, it’s a treat :) also just imagine sneaking around the castle with george weasley ugh i am weak for it.. hope you guys enjoy reading this story as much as i did writing it! x
tag list: @mintlibri @georgeweasleyx @seppys-return-to-madness @fopdoodledane @fredd-weasley @iprobablyshipit91 @darling-details @laneygthememequeen @lupinsx @keoghans @helloallthethingsilove @bobduncanlover @dreamer821 @feffffffy | message me if you’d like to be added, loves!
“Ugh—murder me, George.”
Fred is pulling at his hair whilst Angelina dishes new information to the entirety of the Gryffindor Quidditch team during the evening feast. George peers from his disheveled looking twin to the other end of the Great Hall, where he spots you in your green robes, blowing gently on a cup of tea before immersing yourself into conversation with another Slytherin Chaser next to you. Yep—much to the Gryffindor Quidditch team’s dismay—they’d found a new Chaser.
“C’mon now, give her a chance,” Angelina says in a hushed whisper, doing her very best to keep the team civilized. “Just because we.. strongly dislike most of the Slytherins doesn’t mean we need to feel that way about her, as well. I’ve actually heard very nice things.”
“Yeah?” Fred begins sarcastically, slumping in his seat. “Like what?”
“Like she’s a fair player,” Katie Bell answers.
“And a bloody good player, at that.”
“Ugh,” Fred says rather dramatically and rolls his eyes. He turns to Harry and George and nods in the direction of the girls, who are still speaking. In a lower voice, he asks them, “Can you believe this rubbish? ‘Give her a chance’. Merlin! When have Gryffindors and Slytherins ever gotten along? Look, I’ll be civilized,” Fred says in defense when Harry raises his eyebrows at him, “but there’s no bloody way in hell I’m taking it easy on her.”
“Definitely don’t need to take it easy,” Harry teases, “but we still need to play fair.”
George is hardly paying attention to the conversation in front of him; his hands are clutched tightly around his mug. He watches as a soft grin tugs at the edges of your lips, he notices the way your eyes glisten in the evening sunset light streaming in from the windows, the way you throw your head back and laugh—a laugh he cannot hear, but realizes, suddenly, that he’s dying too. Oh, no.
“Angelina’s right,” he says, trying to sound impartial before the boys notice his lingering stare. When Fred raises his eyebrows suspiciously at his twin, George carries on, “look, ‘m just saying—isn’t that what our entire team stands for? Sportsmanship, or whatever? I know we don’t have a good relationship with the Slytherins, but I reckon being nice with her may turn that around.”
Fred is taken aback at this and asks, “Being nice? Oi—what’s gotten into you? Feeling feverish?” He places a hand on top of George’s forehead and laughs as George slaps his hand away teasingly. A smirk spreads itself across his face and he turns to Harry and says, “Merlin—prepare yourself, Harry. He’s in love.”
George feels his stomach tighten and Harry stifles a bit of confused laughter. “What? How can you tell?”
George is rigid in his seat now. Love is such an overdramatic statement, but he can barely bring himself to roll his eyes at Fred; he’s still trying to remember how to breathe properly. Fred, as if placing George on display somehow, points at him— “Flushed face, dilated pupils, red ears—cold hands,” he grabs both of George’s hands to feel his skin is nearly ice cold, something that tends to happen each and every time George gets nervous. “There are four ways to tell our dear Georgie is smitten, Harry, and I’ve just named them for you.”
Coming to his senses, George slaps his brother. “You’re off your rocker, Fred.”
Fred laughs again and says to Harry, “Off my rocker, he says. But just look at her, would you? She’s just his type. Plus—she plays Quidditch. I promise you, Harry, he’s taken with her already.”
George tells his twin, “Lay off. Just trying to be impartial.”
“Right.” Fred says, smirking a bit while shooting glances toward Harry, who’s doing his best to not choke on his tea due to laughter. “Impartial. Try not to bat your long, beautiful eyelashes at her during our match then, okay, Georgie?” Raucous laughter bounces off of the walls in the Great Hall.
Then suddenly, Angelina scoffs and turns toward the group. George feels a sinking feeling in his stomach. “Ugh—I think I just saw her laugh at something Draco Malfoy said. Maybe we don’t need to be so civilized after all.”
— -
George emerges with Fred and Harry from the changing rooms and they make their way onto the pitch for the match. He’s feeling much more nervous than ever before; he glances up into the stands and notices Ron, Hermione and Ginny, sitting and waiting patiently for the match to begin.
He suddenly feels his knees weaken when he notices you in your green robes just a few feet away.
You all mount your brooms and hover in the air; George was kind of hoping that the Slytherin team would introduce their newest Chaser to the Gryffindor team, but isn’t surprised when they don’t. He finds himself to be slightly sad at the thought, and then shakes his head to push away any feelings that will interfere with his playing. They just need to win and get this over with. Here’s hoping Harry catches the snitch before Malfoy, who’s hovering near Flint and laughing at each and every one of the Gryffindors.
Fred’s looking more on edge—like he wants nothing more than to send every single bludger right into Malfoy’s head during the entirety of the match.
“Reckon I could?” Fred asks George suddenly, hovering in the air, waiting for Madam Hooch’s whistle. “Send them Draco’s way, I mean.”
George laughs and replies, “Sorry, mate—unless you want Gryffindor to forfeit, I reckon you’d better resist the urge.”
It’s a short match, to say the least. Harry’s looking positively dreadful at the sight of Malfoy snickering on the other end of the pitch as he twirls the glistening Snitch in his hands. To Harry, Fred says, “Don’t worry about it, mate—they’ve got a good lineup this year. Better than, even. Bloody hell, I reckon we maybe should’ve taken that new Chaser a bit more seriously—”
“Don’t.” George cuts him off angrily, digging his shoes into the muddy field up to the castle. He’s feeling rather poorly after Gryffindor’s loss. Fred and Harry exchange confused looks.
Fred, wanting nothing more than to lighten the mood of the loss, asks his brother, “You alright there, Georgie? No longer in love?”
Harry laughs nervously, but it’s George’s annoyed-sounding scoff that takes Fred by surprise. George glances toward the Slytherin team, each member high-fiving one another due to their win. He feels anger bubbling up inside him and turns back toward the castle, his brows furrowed and face flushed red. He just wants to get back to the dormitory as quickly as he can. “Oh knock it off you tosspot. I was never in love—I can’t believe those slimy Slytherins won the match—erm, no worry, Harry, we’ll get them next time—” he says a bit softer when he notices Harry’s woebegone look. To Fred, he continues, “—can’t believe I ever thought that Gryffindors and Slytherins could get along.. Merlin. Next time I have such a wicked thought, Fred, do me a favor and knock me over the head with a spellbook of mine, would you?”
Fred laughs and slings an arm around his twin. “Don’t need to ask me twice.”
— -
Fred and George find themselves the last place they ever want to be—in the library, grudgingly working on an extra long Potions essay assigned to their class by Professor Snape in a moment of pure rage. Fred’s arms are sprawled out across the table and he’s laying across his blank parchment rather dramatically, groaning against the desk. George, on the other hand, is scribbling quite animatedly, wanting to get out of the library as quickly as possible. Then he spots you a few rows over, rolls his eyes, and writes even faster.
“It’s no use, mate,” Fred’s voice is tired, “I can’t do this. This schoolwork is nearly killing me. I’m going back to the Common Room; Ron said something about a game of exploding snap—you coming?”
“You go on,” George replies, not looking up from his parchment, “I want to finish this before the feast.”
Fred puts up his hands in surrender and exits the library as quickly and as swiftly as possible.
George is hoping he can finish this Potions essay within the next half an hour, or so—that way, he’ll have time to change and possibly get in on that exploding snap game before the feast in a bit. But he finds himself distracted. Not in a good way, though. He finds himself distracted by you.
Is it his imagination, or have you moved over a few seats? He shakes his head and looks back down at his parchment. No, it’s not his imagination at all—he looks up again and you’re directly across from him now, your hands spread out over your own piece of parchment and spellbooks, and you smile at him.
“Just wanted to tell you how great you were last week,” you tell him in a low voice so as not to grab Madam Pince’s attention, “really great. Probably two of the best beaters I’ve ever seen, you and your brother.”
Is this some kind of a joke? George furrows his brows and asks, a bit incredulously, “W-what?”
You laugh softly, closing your own spellbook. “Look, I know that the whole Slytherin versus Gryffindor rivalry thing has been going on since Hogwarts opened, basically,” your voice is light and airy, and George is now having conflicting feelings. Was he too quick to judge? “but I figure, that’s not how all Slytherin and Gryffindor relationships need to be. So, just wanted to say—really wicked playing; but don’t expect me to take it easy on you moving forward.” You beam at him, pack your things away and stand up to leave.
“What’re you on about?” George asks, now feeling incredibly defensive. “Is this some kind of ploy? Flatter us and make us all flustered so you can go ahead and absolutely demolish us in the next match like you have this last time? Well, it’s not going to work,” he tells you, closing his own spellbooks and placing them into his bag on the chair next to him. “I appreciate the compliment—you’re a wicked player too, but—anyone who’s friends with Malfoy isn’t someone I reckon I’ll be able to get on with.”
You’re a bit taken aback, George notices, when your face flushes red. You sit back down as he continues to pack up his things. “I’m not friends with Malfoy.”
George just scoffs.
You cross your arms defensively now and stand up with a jolt. “He might be my teammate, but I actually find him to be a right foul git.”
You push your chair in a little too loudly, and now George is feeling incredibly guilty. Maybe you were genuinely trying to be friendly. He gets up and grabs your arm before you exit the library fully. Taking a deep breath, he says, “Wait, wait—‘m sorry. Look, that was really bloody rude of me. It’s just that—”
You soften at his words; you uncross your arms, and grin softly. “I understand that friendships between our two houses can be a bit.. complicated.”
“Throw in Quidditch and we’re nearly done for.”
“Look, I was just being friendly.”
“I know. I appreciate that.”
Just then, a flustered yelp comes from right outside the library. Both you and George turn to look, only to see Crabbe and Goyle tugging on Malfoy’s robes, whose face is seemingly broken out in some type of hive. He’s yelling at the two of them to try any spell, rid me of this! But alas, whatever they do only tends to make the irritation worse. George erupts into laughter.
“What a git,” you say to George.
“Merlin—deserves that, he does. I reckon whoever can pull off that deserves a medal, or something.”
Again you cross your arms—but not indignantly this time. A smirk grows on your face and realization floods over George. He looks back and forth between a very upset Malfoy, and you.
“You?”
“Just jinxed some candies he was eyeing in the common room this afternoon,” you tell him, smirking even more, “I was just so sick and tired of him today. If I had to overhear how bloody wonderful his pureblood family is one more time, I was bound to punch him eventually—reckoned this wouldn’t be as bad for his rep.”
George is still stuck in his spot—his feet cemented into the ground, his entire body is rigid. He’s finding it hard to not peer at you with admiration. Malfoy’s long gone by now—his yelps are growing quieter and quieter as he, Crabbe and Goyle make their way down the corridors toward the Great Hall. You’re still standing in front of George, a smirk on your face and your hands now on your hips, basking in all your glory. Again, as if he hadn’t heard you correctly the first time, George asks, “Y-you? You pranked Malfoy?”
You wiggle your eyebrows at him and he feels his insides twist. Uh-oh. “Color you impressed, Weasley?”
— -
When George was taken aback by your friendly banter in the library those few weeks ago, he never expected to end up back here. In the library. With you. In the row all the way near the back, the row nobody ever visits, after hours in the dark; his hands tight around your abdomen, yours tangled in his hair, his lips on yours for what seems like hours.
The watch on your wrist begins to beep; as if gravity is pulling you both apart, you separate. George groans and tightens his grip on you. “Sorry, Georgie,” you say sweetly, pressing your lips gently to his once more, “got to run—can’t be late for Quidditch practice.”
“Ignore it, ignore it,” George says, eager to kiss you again, “I reckon you can be late just once. Right?”
Somehow still speaking coherently, you say heavily, “Yeah—that won’t look suspicious, or anything. H-how long d’you think we can keep this up?”
He nearly melts when he feels your smile against his lips. “Dunno, but, we’ve made it this far, haven’t we? Want to go public?”
“I don’t think our teams will like that very much,” you reply sadly, running your hands again through his soft hair. You jump up from the table and fix the open buttons on your shirt. “You’ll just have to find a way to sneak into the Slytherin Common Room, then.”
George, now feeling incredibly elated at your interest in mischief, wiggles his eyebrows at you. “Got a lot of faith in me, do you?”
You stand on your tiptoes for a quick peck and adjust his very askew tie. “More than you know. Now c’mon—have got to run, haven’t I? Promise to make it up to you later.”
Once successfully making it out of the closed library without being caught, and bidding you farewell (albeit a bit begrudgingly) in the middle of the corridors before you head to practice, George finds himself nearly skipping through the castle back to the common room. He pops through the portrait hole and immediately jumps onto one of the couches, sprawling himself out across the entire thing and seemingly pushing Ginny off the edge and into an armchair.
“No problem, Georgie, I wasn’t sitting here, or anything..” Ginny growls, taking a spot next to Ron.
“Where’ve you been?” Fred asks a bit angrily, placing his feet up on the table in front of them. “You completely disappeared after class and we haven’t seen you since!”
“Just taking a walk,” George replies, feeling his throat tighten up and knowing that this, full well, is lying straight through his teeth to his own flesh and blood. “Was finishing up an essay first, though.”
Fred, Ron, Ginny, Harry, and Hermione all peer at him quizzically with furrowed brows. George can already tell there are questions bubbling up inside them, but the one that comes first isn’t exactly what he expects.
“Why—why’s your hair all messy?��� Ginny asks, and George finds himself hurriedly running his hands through it, trying to smooth it down as much as possible, “and your lips, they’re all rosy! Who’ve you been snogging, George?” she giggles.
The confusion Fred was feeling toward his twin seems to subside as he smirks and places his hands behind his head, relaxing into the couch. “Oh—so there’s a girl? At least there’s a bloody good reason behind your disappearances. Who is it, mate?”
Quick on his feet (or so he thinks), George replies, “I’m not snogging anyone. You’re all out of your minds.”
“Give it up, mate.” Ron says cheekily. “We know.”
George swallows thickly. “You don’t know what you’re on about.”
As the rest of the group laughs, Fred pops a chocolate frog into his mouth and tells his twin, “Sure, George. Next time you sneak out for a midnight rendezvous with your girlfriend, be sure to tell her we’d all like to be introduced, eh?”
— -
“They know.”
It’s nearly ten p.m. and you’re sitting in George’s lap speaking in hushed whispers, running a hand gently through his hair at the nape of his neck as he finally is able to tell you about the encounter with his friends after your last meetup. The library is so much darker than the other night.
“They do?”
“Well, sort of,” he says, stroking your knee, “they at least have this theory that I’m sneaking around with someone. Which, they’re not wrong,” he grins cheekily, leaning up to kiss you softly, “but they don’t know who it is, and I’ve never actually told them that their theory is true.”
“D’you want too?”
“Do you?”
You run your fingers gently across his tie; the glistening of George’s eyes are evident in the moonlight streaming in through the windows. You sigh. “I’ll do whatever you’d like. I’m not saying that the sneaking around isn’t fun, because it definitely is,” George shoots you a cheeky smirk, “and I know that—that Gryffindors kind of have this rep to uphold, as do Slytherins—”
“I care more about you than a reputation, to be honest.”
He knows he’s said the right thing; a large grin spreads out across your face. “Me, too.”
George runs a hand through your hair and grins softly.
“Are you sure this is what you want to do?”
“Of course I am,” George replies, tightening his grip on you, “it’ll be so bloody nice not to ignore one another in the corridors now.”
You throw your head back and laugh; he’s nearly putty in your hands.
He says, making it final, “So we’ll tell them, then.”
“Together?”
“Yeah, together,” he agrees before lifting you up and placing you on the table, leaning you back against some bookshelves and pressing his lips to yours. He slings his arms around your waist and can feel the goosebumps rise on the back of his neck when you run a hand down his chest. Through a geeky grin, he says, “But not tonight, okay? I’m not quite finished with you yet, love.”
— -
George and Fred exit the Transfiguration classroom, nothing but a very long lunch on their planned activities list for the afternoon. The bump into Ginny, Ron, Harry, and Hermione in the corridors and immerse themselves in conversation.
“Fair warning, everyone,” Harry begins, looking ghastly, “Snape’s in a right awful mood today—can’t help but wonder if someone slipped something into his pumpkin juice.”
“Great,” Ginny groans, “just what I needed to hear as I make my way to the Dungeons.”
“Who’s up for a game of exploding snap later on?” Ron asks the group, loosening his tie a bit, “Just have to get through Divination first.”
Without answering, George then spots you rounding the bend. He knows you’re coming from Ancient Runes and heading toward the Great Hall for lunch, too. You both hadn’t told them yet. Hadn’t found the right time. It’s not as if houses can eat and chat with one another during the feasts, can they?
Without fully registering what he’s doing, George seizes his opportunity and bounces over to you, pulling you into a very tight and very noticeable embrace.
He watches as your eyes widen and begins to laugh. “Erm—what’re you doing?” you ask, pulling back. Then you whisper, “I thought we were telling them together, you know.. after we’ve had time to prepare?”
“I thought now would be a good time.”
You cock your head to the side. “Always keeping me on my toes, aren’t you, Weasley?”
He leans in and kisses you lightly. “Sounds about right, yeah.”
But before the two of you can head over to the group of Gryffindors you thought were distracted by conversation, you suddenly hear, “Well it’s about bloody time.”
You both turn your heads to see a very satisfied looking Fred, cheeky Ron and Harry, and happy Ginny and Hermione looking at you both as George’s hand tightens around your waist as the corridors become even busier.
“You knew?” you and George ask together.
“Well, Fred did,” Ron tells you both. “I swear, it’s like he’s got eyes on the back of his head, or something.”
Fred snickers and smirks at his twin. “Really think you could hide this from me? C’mon, Georgie, you know better. The two of you aren’t exactly subtle when you share stolen glances across the Great Hall every bloody evening,”
Everyone falls into a bit of laughter. As the younger ones introduce themselves quite excitedly and then reluctantly head off to class, you, George, and Fred are left in the emptying corridors with the rest of the seventh years also looking forward to a free period.
“Well, Freddie,” George begins, “she’s—”
Fred holds up a hand to his twin. “I know who she is, Georgie—” then, to you with a smile, he continues, “—but I know you as the Slytherin Chaser.. our opponent, if you will. I don’t know you as my twin’s—”
“Girlfriend,” you and George say together, making Fred begin to laugh. You continue, “Hope the fact that I’m a Slytherin won’t make it complicated.”
Fred can’t help but grin broadly. “Not with me, it won’t—especially if you make my brother happy.” George is relieved to hear this and can finally feel the knot in his stomach unwind. Fred keeps on, “Now—whatever effect you have on him is simply wonderful, Y/N. He’s coming back late at night with all of these incredible pranks up his sleeve, I dunno where he gets it—all I know is that it started happening right around the time the two of you began sneaking around.”
“Confession,” George begins, squeezing your hand now, “not all of those ideas were mine.”
And just as George had looked stunned in the library when he figured out that you’d been the one to prank Draco, Fred looks exactly the same. His expression is an exact carbon copy of his twin’s from that day. “Really?”
“Pranks Malfoy a lot these days,” George begins, looking down at you with admiration, “reckon he has it coming, too.”
You turn to Fred and ask with a smile, “Ruddy pumpkin head, isn’t he?”
Fred is certainly taken aback and wildly impressed. “I might just have to pick your brain, then,” he tells you and slings an arm around your shoulder, pulling you along with him as he heads to the Great Hall. He leans in closer to you to speak, leaving George where he’s standing, “Join us tonight, would you? Would love to compare some ideas, if you’re willing.”
You stop in the middle of the corridor and sling your arm around Fred’s back. You peer at George and grin, as if to say, See? We had nothing to worry about. George can’t help but laugh at Fred’s very elated grin when you ask him, “What’d you have in mind, Freddie?”
reblogs & feedback are always appreciated, thank you for reading and requesting, loves x
#george weasley#fred weasley#fred and george weasley#weasley twins#weasley twins fanfic#weasley twins fanfiction#weasley twins imagine#george weasley x reader#george weasley reader insert#george weasley imagine#george weasley fanfic#george weasley fanfiction#hp fanfic#hp fanfiction#hp imagine#ron weasley#draco malfoy#vincent crabbe#gregory goyle#slytherin#gryffindor#ginny weasley#harry potter#hermione granger
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Take it Slow - Part Thirty-Three
a/n: okay this is my first shot at a harry:y/n fic, and it will be multiple parts. y/n had a bad experience with an ex over a year ago, and finally accepts her coworker and good friend Niall’s invitation to go on a blind date with his friend Harry.
Warnings: MENTION OF PAST ABUSE! If you do NOT want to read about what happened to her, please skip the italics section, as it goes into detail. The good good is happening, there is smut. THIS STORY IS NOT OVER YET THOUGH, PLS BE KIND TO ME I HOPE THIS WAS WORTH IT, I LOVE YOU ALL SM OKIE BYE!
Masterpost (all previous parts can be found in the masterpost)
“I don’t think I’ve told you enough how beautiful you look tonight.” He places a hand on your knee.
“That’s so sweet, Jake. Thank you.” You blush. You felt proud of the green dress you decided to wear.
Four dates with an amazing guy. You felt like Jake really liked you. Each date was better than the last. You felt a little nervous inviting him up to your little studio apartment, but you were sick of making out in his car.
“This is a nice place.”
“Thanks, might be getting a bigger place soon, we’ll see.”
After some more chatter and a little flirting, you started kissing. His lips were soft and inviting. He pulled you on top of him, and you were happy to straddle his legs. He picked you up, and brought you over to your bed. You didn’t mind, you figured you’d just get into some heavy petting, maybe give him a blow job.
He didn’t take your dress fully off. He had to know he was hurting you, the tears rolling down your cheeks with each painful thrust had to be a tell, but that would involve him having to look at you. You were almost grateful when he flipped you over so you could bury your head into your pillow. You thought you were going to suffocate from the way he was pushing on you. You thought he was going to rip the hair right out of your scull as he pulled you up close to him.
He collapsed next to you when he was finished. It was dark in your apartment.
“That was fun.” You nodded your head in agreement, scared to respond in any other way. “Listen, I’d spend the night, but I have a lot going on tomorrow. I’ll call you okay?”
“Okay.”
“Still on for next week.” He kissed your cheek, and got himself together. He left.
You weren’t sure what sound came out of you. A mix between a shriek and a sob. You got up and made sure your door was completely locked. You turned your lights on and nearly passed out at the blood on the sheets. You looked down between your legs, and that was when you lost your balance. You woke up on the floor about an hour later. You stripped yourself of all your clothes and put them into a plastic bag, just in case you thought you’d need them. You ripped the sheets off your bed, and left them in a pile on the floor, and made your bed. You tried to go to the bathroom, but it was too painful.
You barely ate or drank anything all week because you dreaded going to the bathroom. You didn’t shower, you didn’t have the energy to get off your couch. Every day that you had to call out of work took out any energy you had. You hadn’t been able to sleep.
“Y/N! It’s me, Niall! I’m comin’ in!” You lifted your head slowly as he came in. He must’ve known you kept a spare key in your desk. “Brought you some s-oh my god!” He rushes over to you, dropping the container of soup to the floor. “What happened?!” You just look at him. You raise a shaky hand pointing to the sheets on the floor. “Are, are you havin’ a bad period?” You shake your head no. “Please, Y/N, try to talk to me.”
“Jake.” You whisper. That was all you needed to say. He understood completely.
“Alright, we need to get you into the shower.” You shake your head no. “You know what, I’m…I’m gonna make a bath up for you, how about that?” He goes into your bathroom and gets the water started. You were a clean person, he had never seen your apartment in such shambles. He walks back out. “Bath is fillin’ up, can I help you off the couch?” You nod yes.
He was being so gentle with you. You had only known Niall over a year, and you considered him one of your good friends, but now he was a best friend. He leads you into the bathroom.
“Do you need help? Or can you do this yourself?”
“I…can.”
He leaves the door a crack open, just in case. You slide the clothes that you had worn all week off. You sunk into the warm water, and winced. You were still extremely sore from your ordeal. You dip your head under to get your hair wet. You really didn’t have the energy to wash it, so you didn’t. Once you felt clean enough you got up, and wrapped yourself in a towel. You threw your greasy, wet hair up into a bun. You grab your robe that was hanging on the back of the door, and slip it on. You see Niall pacing around the room.
“All set?” You nod your head yes. “What can I do for ya? Do you want to go to the police?” You shook your head no vigorously.
Niall called out of work the next day. He stayed with you, helped you eat. There were six different times you drove with him to the police station. Eventually you decided against pressing charges, but you hung onto all the evidence. Niall helped you call your mom. He was there while you cried into her. She told you about Dr. Mara, and Niall helped you set up your first appointment.
You started with half days at work. Niall told your supervisor you had caught mono, so you couldn’t be in full time just yet.
Niall helped you find your new apartment. He wanted you in his building, but you couldn’t quite afford it yet. He helped you move into your new place, and helped you make it cozy. You called him the night after you told all of your friends what happened to you. You called him the night after you told your siblings and dad what happened to you.
If you two weren’t close before, you were close now. His holiday party was one of the first times you felt like doing something fun with other people. It was a great party. There was a handsome man there doing shots with what looked like a close friend. You watched as he threw his head back to laugh, seeing a dimple indent further into his cheek. You desperately wanted to ask Niall who the man was, but you were in no place to do so.
//
Little did you know, the handsome man with the dimple would become the absolute love of your life. You had gone through something horrible, and moments of it were still fuzzy in your brain. You still had nightmares, but they always ended the same. With Harry. He would never do anything to hurt you, ever. You’ve known this for a long time, but now you had no reason to wait. The man wanted to live with you for god’s sake. You were done being scared. If you got triggered during, then you’d just have to deal with it then and there. You were done letting this moment in your life control every thought and feeling that you had.
You take a deep breath, and finish off your glass of wine.
“Want some more?”
“No, that was plenty.” You smile, and place the glass down on the coffee table. You raise a hand, and cup his cheek, he leans in to your touch. Shifting his face slightly to kiss the palm of your hand.
You scoot closer to him, both of your bodies facing each other. You cup both of his cheeks in your hands and pull his face closer to you. You nuzzle your nose to his as he places his glass on the coffee table, not wanting to spill. His arms wrap around to your back as your lips connect. It feels like the first time you’ve been able to properly kiss in days. You swipe your tongue across his bottom lip, and he parts his mouth open for you. Your tongues connect and he groans into the intense kiss. Your fingers lace through his hair and tug slightly. He nips at your jaw, and kisses down your neck, getting to the skin just below your earlobe. His teeth sink in, only slightly. He didn’t want his friends giving you a tough time tomorrow night. But that didn’t mean he wouldn’t find other places on your body to leave his love behind.
A moan leaves your lips as he continues to kiss on your neck. You felt a familiar ache brewing between your legs. You wanted him so badly. Your hands move to tug at his collar, and they begin to unbutton his shirt. His lips find yours again as you push the shirt off his shoulders. His hands reach below the skirt of your dress to tug down your nylons. You kick them off the ends of your feet. The palm of his hand presses against your core, only a lacy pair of underwear between the two of you. You cling to him as he rubs his hand against you, making you more and more wet.
“God, I want you to fuck me.” You whisper out loud. Your eyes snap open when his hand stops moving. He heard you. He leans back to look at you clearly.
“I…don’t think I heard you correctly, could you repeat that?” His eyes are wide, and his pupils are dilated.
“I said, I want you to fuck me, Harry.” You say in a shy voice.
“Right, with what exactly?” He asks softly. He wanted you to say it so his hopes and dreams weren’t shattered yet again. He wanted to hear you clarify if you wanted his mouth, his fingers, and or his hardening cock.
Your heart was racing, you reach your hand to palm him through his pants. You look up at him through your lashes. “With this.” He looks at you as if to ask are you sure, and you give him a reassuring smile and a nod.
Not wanting to spoil the moment with more words, he gets up off the couch, and scoops you up, carrying you bridal style into the bedroom. You kissed him as he carried you in. He set you down gently. Your lips didn’t leave his as you undid his pants. You broke away only for a moment, to let him take his shirt off. He unzips your dress, and lets it pool at your feet.
He has you straddle him as you get on the bed, him leaning against the headboard. Both of your lips were swollen from how hard you were kissing each other. He reaches around to unhook your bra, he kisses your chest as he pushes the straps off your shoulders. He gets it out of the way completely, and licks one of your nipples, getting it hard. His teeth graze over it before sucking on it. You let out a moan as your hips sink further down onto him. He twists your piercing with his teeth while his hand kneads your other breast. Eventually he switches to the other to pay it equal attention. His hands move to your hips, and then to your ass, squeezing your plush skin. He kisses on your shoulders and collarbones, as he presses your chests closer together, wanting any and all contact.
“Harry.” You breathe.
He knew you wanted him, but he also knew he wanted to take his time, to savor every moment. An intrusive thought from the back of his head also telling him to make you wait just for the amount of time you’ve made him wait, but he pushes it away. Those kinds of things can come later. Right now, you were fully trusting him with everything you had. He wasn’t going to fuck this up.
Harry gently lifts you up, and places you next to him. He moves to hover over you. You look into each other’s eyes and kiss deeply. You felt like you could cry at any moment, but not because you were sad or scared. You were excited. He kisses down your entire body, and slowly takes off your panties. You lift your hips to help. He kisses from your inner thigh to your core. Your hips buck up at the sudden contact, but he uses his hand to hold you down. His tongue flattens, and swipes a stripe up your center. He moves up to your clit and sucks on your throbbing nub. Your hands go to his hair. Your heart was pounding so hard you thought it was going to beat right out of your chest. What he was doing felt amazing, but for the first time ever, you wanted to skip all the foreplay.
“Harry, baby, please…I’m ready for you, all of you.” He lifts his head slowly to look at you. “I want to feel you.” He takes a deep breath, and tugs his boxers down his legs and tosses them onto the floor.
“Do you want me to use a condom, angel?” You should probably say yes, but you hadn’t fucked up your pills or anything, and you trusted that if he had anything, he wouldn’t have let you suck his dick so many times.
“I’m fine if you don’t use one. I want to really be able to feel you.” He smiles and nods.
“I just wanna use my fingers for a bit to help brace you for the sensation, okay?”
“Okay.”
He hovers over you again, placing kisses on the crook over neck as he works a finger in. Once he feels you relax around him, another finger slips in. You groan as he slowly pumps in and out of you. You were dripping for him, completely soaked.
“Y/N, you’re one hundred percent sure?” He says, moving up to meet your eyes.
“Yes, Harry.”
“If at any moment, something doesn’t feel right say something, or push me off or whatever you need to do.” His eyes seemed glossy. This was an emotional moment for the both of you.
“I will, babe.” You take a deep breath. “Just take it slow, okay?” He nods.
Harry removes his fingers from you, and grips himself. He rubs the tip of his leaking cock against your clit to get you used to him. You thought your mind would be racing, but you were solely focused on him. You put your hands on his shoulders as he rubbed his tip against your center.
“Ready?”
“Mhm.”
Your eyes are locked on where you’re about to connect. You shift your legs to try to open up for him a bit more. He slowly starts to push inside you. Your nails dig into his shoulders as he stretches you. Even though Harry had been fingering you for months, you were still incredibly tight. His eyes roll into the back of his while he pushes further. You felt incredible, absolutely incredible. He had all he could do to not come right then and there. He stopped for a moment to look at you and see how you were. You thought he had finished pushing inside you, so you relaxed around him. He took this as the go ahead to continue to get all the way in.
“Jesus, there’s more?!” You both start laughing.
“Almost all the way in, love. You’re doin’ great.”
Once he’s in all the way, he stays put to give you a second to adjust and get used to him. You were clenched pretty hard around him, and your nails were digging further into his skin. Your eyes were screwed shut and watery. He pushes some hair out of your face to comfort you.
“It’s okay baby.” He coos. You slowly open your eyes to look at him. You immediately relaxed because you knew you were safe. “You feel so good, can I start to move a little?”
“Yes.”
If Harry had his way, he’d pull all the way out and slam into you. But he knew he needed to be sweet to you tonight. He slowly retracts his hips, and moves them back in. You let out a groan.
“Kiss me.” You say desperately.
Your lips connect as he goes in and out of you slowly. You bring legs up to wrap around his waist, giving him a better angle. You gasp loudly when he hits bottom. He stops moving.
“Shit, I’m sorry.” You run your hands through his now damp hair.
“It’s okay, keep going.”
“Does it…feel good?”
“Yes, so good. You’re so big.” You moan.
“Can I move a little faster?”
“Just a little.”
Harry continues to thrust in and out of you. He moves his hips around in a circle causing a drawn out moan to come out of you.
“You’re so fucking tight.” He says into your ear. One of his hands moves to your breast and kneads it.
He was making you feel good all over. He starts to suck on your neck as he twists your piercing. You were doing what you always did, but for the first time you felt full. With each thrust as he fucked you, you could feel him stretching you out. It had been so long since you felt something so good. You wanted to be thrown around into every possible position, but you couldn’t do that tonight. You had to get through this initial, intimate moment to make sure you’d be okay for more later on. Besides that, you had to get used to having such a big cock inside of you.
“Shit.” You groan as he starts to hit your g-spot. “Keep, keep doing that.”
“Did I find it? Is it right here?” He presses his hand down on your lower stomach, increasing the pressure growing within.
“Fuck.” You groan through your teeth.
He keeps his movements slow and focused. You lift your hips to grind up against him, and you find yourself moving in sync with him. Your head rolls back far into the pillow.
“Takin’ me so well angel.”
“Feels so good Harry, love the way you fuck me.”
He crashes his mouth back to yours, and moans into the kiss. He moves a little faster, and takes his hand to rub on your clit. You keep grinding against him.
“Shit, Harry.” You feel your stomach start to tighten.
“Go ahead, come for me.” He rubs your clit harder as he continues to hit your g-spot.
“Harry, Harry, ahhhhhhhhhh.” You release around him.
Harry starts to thrust into you faster as he feels his own release coming. He wanted to make sure you came at least once before he did. He grabs one of your hands, and presses it into the pillow next to your head. His head is pressed into the crook of your neck.
“Baby, I can’t last much longer.” He groans.
“You wanna come, Harry?”
“Yes, inside of you, can I?”
“Please, fill me up.”
You really shouldn’t have said that. Because Harry thrusts up into you so hard…well the next part happens almost in slow motion. He slides all the way out of you, and pounds in too hard. You have a scary flash, and move your feet to push up against his stomach. He was starting to come, so when you pushed him out of you, he had no time to angle himself, so his hot come ends up getting in your eyes and all over your face.
“Shit! Shit! Fuck, I’m so sorry! What, what happened?” He felt like he had the wind knocked out of him.
You laid there for a moment, your eye was stinging.
“Y/N, please talk to me. Shit, let me get a rag or something. You, you kicked me off of you, and I was already, and I couldn’t.” He sits on his knees and looks at you. Your lips form into a smile and you can’t help but start laughing. You lick your lips and take a deep breath.
“A rag would be great.”
He goes into the bathroom quick, and wets a washcloth. He comes back out and dabs your face.
“Sorry ‘bout your eye.” He dabs it lightly.
“S’okay.” You slowly open your eyes and look up at him. You cup his cheek and he leans into it.
“What happened? Did I hurt you?”
“It’s not that you hurt me, you sort of just pounded into me a little hard when you pulled out. I had a flash and I panicked. Did I hurt you?”
“No, not at all. I’ll be more careful next time. I got excited.”
“We did pretty good other than that though. I bet if we work up to it, we’ll get to a point where you can fuck me like that the entire time.” You give him a weak smile as your adrenaline starts to fade. He chuckles.
“I’d like that.” He kisses your hairline. “So, everything else felt good?”
“So good.” Your hands reach down to your stomach. “I should go to the bathroom.” He scoots over to let you get up.
You swing your legs over the bed and stand up.
“Mother of god.” You say as you take a step. You look back at him and you burst out laughing.
“What?”
“I think you rearranged me guts.” He starts laughing. He stands up and helps you walk to the bathroom, just before you close the door, he kisses you.
“Cute of you to think that.”
“What?”
“That that was gut rearranging sex. I took it easy on ya tonight, love. But don’t worry, like you said, we’ll just keep workin’ at it.” He winks, and closes the door for you.
You feel a slight sting when you use the toilet. You figured as he was stretching you out, you tore a little. You wash your face quick, and join him back in the bed. He’s sitting up, and you sit up as well.
“So, it really felt good, like, you enjoyed it?” You put your hand over his.
“Very much, yeah. How did it feel for you? How was I?”
“I can’t tell you how amazing you felt around me. Better than I ever could’ve imagined.”
“I love you, Harry.”
“I love you too, so much.”
“I know this was a long time coming, and I appreciate you having been so patient.”
“It was worth the wait.”
“Even though it didn’t end perfectly?”
“Yeah! To be honest, if you hadn’t been scared in the moment, it would’ve been really hot you havin’ my come all over your face.” You swat an arm at him and giggle. “In all seriousness though, it means so much to me that you trusted me enough to do this.” He slumps down, and pulls you to his chest. He lightly rubs your back.
“I’ll probably need a couple days to recover, but I’ll be honest, I can’t wait to do it again.” He chuckles and kisses the top of your head.
“Me too, love, me too.”
#harry styles#take it slow#harry styles imagine#harry styles x reader#harry styles y/n#harry styles fluff#harry styles smut#harry styles smut fic#harry styles fluff fic#fluff#smut#god i hope this isn't anticlimactic#i tried to make it realistic
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For the prompt: General #30, Varya/Roman ❤️❤️
BABES!! Gosh I love you?? Sm?? You know Varya/Roman is my weakness and they live rent-free in my head. I hope you like this dumb little blurb I threw together for you!!
Varya/Roman + “Why is arson always your first answer?” ~800 words!
Taken from this prompt list; send me more while I’m bored at work!
It was late; Roman had spent just about all day dealing with God-knows-what-the-fuck-ever; if he had been asked to recount his day’s activities, they would have been nonexistent. Blank. Varya had said, when you take in my father’s business, Roman, it’s going to be like taking in a child. You’ll be busy all the time.
She’d said it like he didn’t run a crime syndicate. Like he’d never run a crime syndicate before, even one time. And while he knew that she only meant it with the most loving of intentions—as Varya surely conducted anything to do with him—it only served to steel him against the idea that he wouldn’t be able to handle everything immaculately.
“I’m always busy anyway,” he’d replied flippantly. “What’s new, baby?”
It wasn’t wrong, per se. He had been busy before, but doing things that he liked. Not—sitting on long conference calls with his microphone on mute while Russian gangsters talked over each other until he just couldn’t fucking stand it anymore.
Normally, Roman was very vocal about the agonies that he suffered on a day to day basis, but because his paramour had gazed at him with those dark doe-eyes and said, “Romy, if you need help, just tell me,” he’d bitten his tongue every time he’d even so much as fucking thought about complaining around her.
And now, all he wanted to do was spend an evening with his very sexy fiance and not think about anything at all except for the aforementioned fiance.
“I cannot believe Bianchi’s children are still whining,” Varya murmured. She was perched on his lap, robe cinched around her waist, while he laid back against the pillows—but her eyes stayed stuck on her phone as she scrolled through a document.
She’d been reading it for about thirty minutes. Since he’d gotten home, all she’d done was read the stupid document detailing the most notable transgressions and chatter that had been going on. Roman knew that she did it because he didn’t want to; she was the perfect little filter, just the way she had been for Ilarion, but he wished she would have at least waited until he was asleep.
“V,” Roman rumbled, running his lips along the slope of her neck, “you’re so sexy, but you know what’s even sexier? Not talking about work. Who cares what we’re going to do about Bianchi’s stupid fuckhead sons right now?” He nuzzled the hollow of her jaw. “Kitten, stop reading.”
The brunette hummed pleasantly, carding her fingers through his hair. “Perhaps their home should burn down.”
In hindsight, Roman would see that this moment was entirely because he had gotten to the last little inch of his fuse. Why were they still talking about problems? Why were there still problems?
“Why is arson always your first answer?” he asked, leaning back to look at her. She blinked, watching him for a moment.
“I do not understand the question.”
“Why don’t we just kill them?” Roman insisted. “Everyone keeps acting like there’s some big fucking problem to solve while we’re getting everything transitioned here in the States. Does it matter? Really? I mean—why don’t we just kill Bianchi’s sons and every other idiot that wants to mouth off—”
“Romy,” Varya murmured, smoothing her hands along his shoulders, “you sound stressed.”
“I am!” His voice came out petulant. “I am stressed. Do you know how annoying your lawyers are?”
“Very.”
“Very annoying!” He agreed fervently. “And then, have this problem with the Bianchis not minding their own fucking business? Why does it have to be a problem? Kill them and be done with it.”
She nodded sympathetically, and Roman got the distinct feeling that the Russian didn’t actually feel bad for him—but in that moment, it didn’t really matter, because she was cupping his face and kissing him, slow and luxurious, just the way that he liked.
“I know,” Varya purred. “They’re so very annoying. I told you, you have to be the devil with them.”
“I am,” he replied tartly.
“I am sure,” she agreed. “Nonetheless, I do not envy you. You’ve an unruly flock on your hands.”
He sighed, dropping his forehead against her shoulder. “I know. And I’m so good at it—”
“Mhm.”
“—but little things like some dead guy’s kids complaining you shot his face off are just so tedious. So why not just end them?”
“Because, Romy,” Varya replied, “if we wipe them all out, who’s going to be around to apologize to you for their transgressions?”
That was a fair point. One that Roman didn’t consider. Normally, there was someone around to suffer the consequences, and then grovel for it later, and that was all well and good. He supposed that if there was no one around to really suffer the consequences, then...
He huffed a short exhale of breath into her skin. “No one.”
“Don’t you think you deserve an apology?”
“Yes,” he sighed. “You’re right. Fuck. I know. We can’t just get rid of them.”
The brunette planted a kiss on his temple, fingers combing through his hair. He stayed like that for a moment; lulled by the gentle movements, the scent of her jasmine perfume washing over him, the warmth of her body with his arms snaked around her waist and keeping her held close.
And finally, he said, “So, burn down their house?”
“Perhaps,” Varya replied. “But only if you think it’s a good idea, my love.”
That was the best thing anyone had said to him all day.
“Yeah,” Roman said, pulling her down to kiss her, “I do.”
#roman sionis x ofc#roman sionis x oc#ch: varya astakhova#ch: roman sionis#i miss my psycho children#star ily sm u know just what to do to make me SUFFER#i made this like right after cyt jsyk#i hope ur happy i'm about to get on their dumb bs all over again#birds of prey fanfic
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hríd & takumi + their s/o getting hurt protecting them
@willowmum asked: “Aa hi mom could I get Hríd and Takumi (separately) with a S/O who gets seriously injured protecting them? I love angst oop (also I’m sorry if this is too vague? I don’t wanna like,, put a bunch of details into what I want just in case it makes u feel obligated or smth? Sorry I’m weird but I love y’all)”
a/n: i’m a sucker...... for these kinds of fics thank u sm my child!!
ALSO: FOR ALL THOSE WHO CAN’T SUMMON HRID HOPEFULLY THIS BRINGS U LUCK!!! --mod touko
tw: light description of injury... nothing too serious tho
hríd:
it was all a blur. one minute you were across the battlefield, safe and where you were supposed to be, the next you were at his side, shielding him from a magic spell he was too slow to retaliate against. he panics, heart racing as he goes into overdrive taking out any enemy who dared near him at the moment. his mind is clouded with one thought -- get you to safety.
he dismount quickly, racing to your side and calling for your name desperately. your thin robes provided little protection against the harsh magic of the blue mage.
‘it is all your fault’, come his thoughts as pleads for a healer to come help. the rest of the battlefield is muted, an afterthought pushed to the back of his mind as he focuses on keeping you awake.
“please... please talk to me,” he begs, clutching the fabric of the cloak you always wore, where it once was white it was now stained by the char of electricity that had hit you. “[name]... you’re going to be okay, just stay with me!” despite your mind clouded by pain, you can feel his hands trembling as he tries to hold onto you, like if he let go you would slip through his fingers. you try to speak but it comes out so weak you don’t know if he can hear it. hríd’s icy blue eyes are wide with fear, as he pleads for you to stay with him.
you try so hard to stay with him, to focus on those eyes that you love so much, but instead you fall back into unconsciousness, your last thought being the hope that you get to see them again.
he doesn’t sleep for however long you’re in the medical ward. he doesn’t know how long it’s been and he doesn’t care to know. the only thoughts that consume him are the promises he made to you to protect you, and how he failed in that duty. hríd doesn’t grieve, no, he hardly even looks alive, as he paces in front of the door, eyes cast to the floor as he prays for your safety.
gunnthrá, fjorm, and ylgr often come visit him to make sure he’s eating but he always refuses their requests. gunnthrá knows that he’s punishing himself for his failures, just as he did when he failed to protect his family in his world. all she can do is bring him food and try to calm his racing thoughts. fjorm sits and watches her brother, silently keeping him company and reassuring him that he shouldn’t blame himself. ylgr tries to be chipper, but she often sniffles as she prays aloud for your safety.
mist eventually comes out, telling hríd that you’re fine, you just need rest. hríd almost breaks right there, and gunnthrá pulls him into a hug. ylgr cries tears of happiness and latches onto fjorm, who is hardly keeping herself together too. mist insists that hríd can visit, but only for a few minutes. hríd thanks her for all her work, before rushing to your side.
you look a little worse for wear, but hríd thinks you’ve never been as beautiful -- eyes sleepily narrowed but full of life. he drops down to his knees by your cot, trying so hard to be strong, you needed him to be strong, but once you smile weakly up at him, he loses it. tears flow freely, as he kisses your hand over and over, reassuring himself that you were here and alive.
“i’m so sorry, love, it’s my fault...” he starts, and you use the hand he’s pressed up against his face to wipe his tears. “i should have protected you like i swore i would. i have failed not only my family but you as well”.
“no you didn’t,” you say, quiet as you were still weak from your injury. “hríd, it was my choice to protect you... you mean a lot to me, you know.” hríd is silent, gazing lovingly down at you, tears now dry, but guilt still heavy on his heart. he knew you would assure him it wasn’t his fault, as you always did, but there would always be a part of him that drove him to be stronger to protect his family. something that now included you. he couldn’t lose you again, he would die a thousand deaths to make sure you were happy and healthy.
“and you mean... gods, you mean more to me than anything.” he places a kiss on each one of your knuckles. you look up and see his eyes, still beautiful, still bright, just tired. he must’ve worn himself out worrying. “just... we can talk more about this in the morning. let me stay here with you tonight? just to make sure... you’re here.” there’s a vulnerability in his voice that you know comes from losing those closest to him. you nod weakly, scooting over, and he joins you on your small bed. he’s careful not to move you, as to not strain your injuries, and he lays beside you, feeling the warmth of your body and smiling softly.
never again would he fail you.
takumi:
he’s desperate, nocking another arrow with unsteady hands as he sees the enemies start to near him, and more importantly you. forcing every thought but keeping you safe aside, he shoots down enemies like a man possessed. he’s so focused on those in front of him, he doesn’t realize there’s a sword knight sneaking up on him. before he can even react to it, the blade comes down and he braces himself for the hit. but it never comes.
and then he hears your cry, a horrifyingly shrill noise that cuts through his heart like no blade could. he doesn’t see you go down, instead, he reacts as he always does, shooting down whatever is causing him grief. the red enemy ends up with an arrow through his skull, collapsing beside you on the ground. takumi then rushes to your side, eyes scanning your limp body as he tries to think of something, anything to do. thankfully, veronica and maribelle are nearby, and they come to your aid. takumi, however, refuses to leave your side, and has to be taken away kicking and screaming by ares and minerva, so that the healers can escort you back to askr.
+ he chokes back a sob, gods, there was so much blood. all because he wasn’t there to protect you.
in the days that follow, he doesn’t eat or sleep, his guilt consuming him from the inside out. he becomes more snippy, yelling at anyone who tries to comfort him because in his mind, he doesn’t deserve to be coddled. he should be the one half-dead in the medical tent because at least then you would be okay. ryoma and hinoka let him be, silently waiting with him in support of their brother. sakura makes him food and tries to get him to rest, but he, stubborn as he is, refuses.
takumi’s heart thunders in his chest when he sees veronica exit the medical ward, a look of relief on her usually stoic face. she glances to all the heroes that wait in the hallway for news of your condition: takumi, of course, along with his siblings and the askr trio.
“they’re okay.” she says, and then glances to takumi, “i know they’ll want to see you so... i’ll allow it for a few minutes, but no longer than that.” he has to push back the urge to deny her request, as he didn’t think he deserved to even look at you, but his feet carry him inside the infirmary anyways. he sees you, weakly propped up on a few pillows on a cot in the corner, and he shatters. with each step, tears flow down his face. he kneels down beside you, and you smile weakly up at him.
‘he doesn’t deserve your smile. you should be yelling at him because he couldn’t protect you.’
“i’m sorry... i should’ve done my job and protected you.” you use your one hand that’s not in a sling to gently pet his hair. he takes your hand in his own and sobs into it, shoulders moving up and down as he lets out that he had been bottling up for the few days you had been in the medical ward. “forgive me, i don’t deserve you... your kindness.”
“oh takumi... don’t you see i was just protecting you.” you pet his cheeks, wiping away all the tears you can. his eyes are puffy from crying, and you wish you were strong enough to reach up and kiss him better. “just as you always do for me. gods know how many times you’ve ended up in here because of me.” you chuckle weakly, and he kisses the palm of your hand.
“ryoma could’ve protected you... so could’ve hinoka...” his voice is small as he voices his insecurities. you don’t know why he constantly compared himself to his older siblings, but that was apart of him that had been ingrained in him since he was younger.
“but i don’t want them, takumi... i want you.” you assure him, voice cracking from disuse. “i’d do anything to protect you because i love you. you deserve to be happy and healthy. and if that means me taking blows for you from time to time... well, so be it.” overwhelmed with emotions, he gently slings his arms around your neck, careful not to disturb your wounds, and sobs into your neck, occasionally whispering how much he doesn’t deserve you.
you two stay like that for some time, despite veronica occasionally coming in to give you a hurry it up look.
#hrid#hrid (fire emblem)#hrid x summoner#hrid x reader#takumi#takumi (fire emblem)#takumi x reader#fe:h#fire emblem heroes#fe14#fire emblem fates#fire emblem#headcanons#imagine#fe friday#ficlet#mod touko#angst#fluff
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Cameo Fic #4: The Contest
Today’s cameo fic goes out to Marta, @snowbellewells. She requested to meet Graham and see his friendship with Emma back before he died. Her chosen prompt was “Show me what’s behind your back.” Hope this is what you were looking for!
~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~
Marta pushed open the door of Granny’s and was immediately greeted by a perky, scantily clad Ruby. Looking around the room, she spotted Emma, with her red leather jacket and big, bouncy, season 1 curls sitting in a booth next to Henry….little, adorable ten-year-old Henry.
It had worked. It had actually worked!
Marta had just finished a long and frustrating day at school when it happened. One minute she was grading papers, still irritated about a couple of students in her last period class, and then the next moment a thick gray smoke filled her classroom.
When the smoke cleared, Marta found herself face-to-face with—it was impossible!---Merlin. Gorgeous, robed, more-than-a-little mysterious, Merlin. Her eyes widened as she wondered if she’d fallen asleep at her desk after the long day she’d had.
“You’re not dreaming, Marta,” he said. “I’m here and I’m quite real.”
“How did you know…?”
“I know a great many things,” Merlin said.
Well, that was true enough. He knew a great many things, and more often than not he kept the most important details to himself—like the whole bit about a cut from Excalibur never healing. It would have helped if he’d told Killian that before Arthur nicked him.
“I’m afraid I had to let that happen, Marta,” Merlin said, once again reading her mind. “Things had to play out the way they needed to. At any rated, I’m not here to discuss Killian Jones. I’m here to offer you an opportunity.”
“Um…what kind of opportunity.”
“I have the power to send you into the realm of story that you most often frequent on your television screen,” Merlin said. “In short, I have the power to send you to Storybrooke.”
“Really?” Marta said. “But…that’s just fiction. It’s just a story.”
“And what is a story?” Merlin asked. “It’s nothing but a truth clothed in the attire produced in an author’s imagination. I can give you a vacation to that truth.”
“But…school just started, and I have lesson plans to work on and papers to grade and…”
Merlin waved away her concerns. “And that’s the beauty of a storybook vacation. All I need do is wave my hand and you can appear wherever—and whenever—you’d like within the story. You’ll have twelve hours within your chosen story and then you’ll return…to the exact minute you left. It will be as though no time has passed, but you’ll return renewed and refreshed. Is this something you’d like to try?”
A chance to go to Storybrooke, meet her favorites, get away from her very bad day, and not have to take any vacation time to do it? Oh yeah. She was soooo in.
After she’d agreed to Merlin’s offer, there was one other thing to decide. When in the story would she go to Storybrooke? Marta toyed with several moments through the seasons. There were so many people she wanted to see and meet—particularly Emma Swan and Killian Jones. But as she continued to think about it, one character really stood out to her. Graham Humbert. She’d loved him back in season one, but he’d been around for such a short time, and his story had been so tragic. She decided she wanted to visit a time after Emma became deputy but before things went so terribly, terribly wrong for Graham.
She wanted to see the Emma-Graham friendship.
“Very well,” Merlin had told her, “but keep one thing in mind. You cannot change anything. You must let the story play out just as it always has. As much as you may wish to save the sheriff, he must die in the end, or the entire fabric of the story will crumble.”
She’d assured him that she would be very careful not to change a thing, and then with a flourish of his hand, Merlin had sent her here, to the sidewalk outside Granny’s
“Table for one?” Ruby asked.
“Yeah,” Marta said. “That would be great.”
Ruby led her through the diner to a table set directly across from the booth Emma and Henry were occupying. Marta couldn’t believe her good fortune.
“Hi,” Henry said, taking notice of her as soon as she sat down. “I don’t think I’ve seen you around before. Are you from out of town?”
“Yeah,” Marta said.
“But how is that possible?” Henry said. “No one can come to Storybrooke from the outside.”
“I did,” Emma said.
“Yeah, but you’re different,” Henry insisted. “You’re supposed to be here. You’re the…”
“Don’t say it, kid!” Emma said, ruffling his hair affectionately. “Remember Operation Cobra? We gotta be secretive!”
“Oh yeah!” Henry said.
Emma got to her feet and extended her hand for Marta to shake. “I’m Emma Swan, brand new deputy. Welcome to town, Miss…?”
“Marta,” she said, “My name is Marta.”
“Well, welcome Marta,” Emma said. “The kid and I were about to get lunch. Feel free to join us if you want.”
“I’d love that!” Marta said.
Henry chattered away through the meal, early on deciding that Marta was safe. They could let her in on the secrets of Operation Cobra. “I just can’t quite figure out who Mr. Gold is,” Henry said.
Marta bit her lip, wanting very much to answer Henry’s question, to tell him he was absolutely correct about his fairy tale theory, to warn them about what was to come. But Merlin’s warning rang in her ears still. She couldn’t change anything, lest she make the entire fairytale world crumble.
They were just finishing up lunch, when the door opened again, and Marta looked up to see Sheriff Graham walk in and step their way. A delighted smile lit up her face.
“Emma!” Graham said when he reached their booth, “just the bright, capable deputy I was hoping to find.”
Emma raised an eyebrow skeptically. “Alright Graham, what is it? And…show me what’s behind your back.”
Graham was indeed holding something behind his back, and at Emma’s demand, he maneuvered so that it was hidden even more from view. “Nothing,” he said innocent look on his face. “I’m just glad to see you and Henry and…I don’t think we’ve met.”
“This is Marta,” Henry said. “She’s from the outside. She’s helping us with, well you know, our secret stuff.”
“Marta,” Graham said, shaking her hand. He turned a concerned eye in Emma’s direction. “She’s from the outside? I’m not sure Regina will like that.”
“Screw Regina,” Emma said, with a dismissive wave of the hand. “Far’s I see it, Marta has as much right to be here as anyone.”
Graham looked skeptical for another moment, but then nodded. “Right. Well welcome to our town, and I hope your stay is pleasant.”
“Thanks,” Marta said, “it’s been great so far.”
“Now,” Emma said once introductions were over. “You’re not sidestepping that easily. What are you hiding?”
Graham looked a bit sheepish, but finally pulled his hand from behind his back. He was holding a bulging file folder.
“Please tell me that’s not what I think it is,” Emma said with a groan.
“Things have been slow this afternoon,” Graham said, “And I decided it would be a good time to knock out some of this paper work, but…”
“But you wanted to see if I would be gullible enough to do it for you,” Emma said, folding her arms across her chest. “Graham, we talked about this. I hate paperwork, and some of the stuff goes back weeks before I got here. Not my problem.”
“I know, Emma,” Graham said, “but…something came up. If you do this for me, I’ll owe you forever.”
Emma groaned. “This is my one afternoon with Henry, Graham,” Emma said. “Regina’s out doing…well, I have no idea what she’s doing, but I’m not about to question it.”
“Please!” Graham said, smiling winsomely.
“Graham…..”
“Hey, I know!” Henry said, looking to the back wall of the diner. “Maybe you could have a contest for it. How about darts? Loser has to do the paperwork.”
Emma and Graham both eyed the dart board for a moment, caught each other’s eye, and then nodded simultaneously. “Deal!”
“I’ll be the judge!” Henry said. “If there’s any question, I’ll say who scores higher.”
Graham laughed. “And the outcome will determine whether or not you get to spend the afternoon with your mother. I think, my lad, that you are a mite bit biased.”
“Fine,” Henry shrugged. “Marta can be the judge. You’re not biased, are you?”
“Not at all,” Marta said, “and I’d love to be the judge!”
And so began one of the most competitive and the most enjoyable games of darts in history, with Emma and Graham one-upping each other, attempting to distract each other when it was their turn to shoot and trash talking with the best of them.
Twenty minutes later, after each competitor had thrown their last dart, Marta tallied up the scores.
“You guys are not going to believe this,” she said, “but it’s an exact tie.”
“No way!” Henry said. “What do we do, now?”
“Well, we could have a tie breaker round,” Marta said, “or there is another solution.”
“What’s that?” Emma asked.
“You could work on the paperwork together,” she said, “and I’d even be willing to help if you need. I’m a teacher; I’m sure I could handle it. If we all work together, chances are we’ll get done in no time, then you each can do whatever it is you were planning to do this afternoon.”
“I’ll help too!” Henry said, “We can make it a contest. See who can finish and file the most.”
Emma and Graham looked over at each other and then shrugged.
“I guess it’s as good a plan as any,” Emma said. “And how about we make it a little interesting? The person who finishes and files the least has to buy dinner for everyone else?”
“Sounds good to me!” Marta said.
With the four of them working together—and talking and laughing far more than anyone should be while doing paperwork—the task was completed in two hours flat. What would have taken any one of them all afternoon, was done in a flash.
They tallied up their stats at the end of the job, and this time there was a clear loser.
“Alright, Graham,” Emma said. “Looks like you’re springing for dinner. That is…I mean, I know you had something else you needed to do…”
Graham looked undecided for a moment, and then finally smiled. “Why not? What I…had going on…it can keep. I think you lot are far better company anyway.”
Several hours later, Marta was pulled back to her own classroom in her own time. It had been a wonderful twelve hours, and she’d enjoyed every minute of it. Looking at her own stack of paperwork still to be done, she wished she had her Storybrooke crew to help her, and yet…though nothing had changed in her real life, she felt better, lighter, less overwhelmed. The memory of her wonderful day in Storybrooke would sustain her through her chores tonight and probably long into the future.
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Galactica, part 242
In this Raven throws the warmup party at the year, as she celebrates a night all about her!
Thank you @veronicasanders @samrull and @toriibelledarling for cowriting <3
“Violet!” Pearl kicked Violet’s door, her hands filled with her computer. “Can I borrow your charger, Turbo just chew through mine, the little assholem and I have a fucking deadlin-” Pearl almost tripped over Frida, the woman not looking up as she was desperately trying to save the file she was working on. Pearl looked up, the breath getting knocked out of her. “Wow…”
Violet was standing in front of her mirror, a ruby dress hugging her body, the long sleeves covering her arms while her shoulders were out, Violet’s delicate collarbones on display, a slender gold chain decorating her neck, and Pearl felt her jaw hit the floor. Violet looked breathtaking.
“Pearl, hi.” Violet turned around, her hair done in the soft curls she had worn for the Vogue Fashion Fund, her lips the most kissable dark red, and Pearl flushed, the whole situation beyond embarrassing. “Did you want something?”
“What? Oh. Right.” Pearl felt like a schoolgirl, unable to focus on anything but Violet’s louboutins. “Can I borrow your charger?”
“Sure.” Violet bent down, quickly going through her Chanel before she pulled out the charger, handing it to Pearl, their hands touching.
“Thanks..” Pearl grabbed it and left, not looking back, her mouth dry.
***
"I can't wait for the party!" Raven sing-sang as she walked around her living room one more time, drink in hand, making sure everything was perfect. It was still a few hours until she had invited the guests, and the TV crew was going to come running any minute. Raven was practically vibrating with excitement, her party something she had looked forward to for weeks.
“Calm down, princess.” Raja smiled and took Raven’s drink from her, making Raven pout.
“Raaaj, you’re so mean.”
“I’m not mean, I’m trying to keep my little event planner sober until her big night actually starts.”
“Fiiiiine.” Raven sat down, Raja putting her arm around her and kissed her fiance's head.
As much as the woman made fun of each other, they were both incredibly detail oriented and meticulous whenever they threw any kind of happening. Even though Raven could have hired an event planner for her party, she wanted to do it all herself. Raja loved how secretly domestic Raven was, and how much she enjoyed entertaining their close friends in their home. For Raven, event planning gave her an excuse to obsess over every tiny detail. She had spent two weeks coordinating the charger plates with the floral arrangements when Fame had thrown a dinner, and for baby Grace’s christening, Raven had ruled it all with an iron fist. Jaslene had even asked Raven to help plan her wedding because of her taste and the care she put into planning everything.
Raven heard the doorbell, and jumped excitedly from Raja’s arms, running forwards the door.
Raven had spent all day making sure that everything would work out, that the appetizers were in fact perfect, that her over the top Venetian hour dessert spread was beyond anything anyone had ever seen, and that the drinks matched up as they should. That and keeping track of the messages therapists, the nail technicians the spa personnel were all there and ready to work. All in all, this was to be a lovely little girly party and Raven couldn't wait to begin.
“Hey, so where can we put all this stuff?”
Raven sneered as the camera man in question just walked straight into her home, the man barely wiping his shoes before he stepped onto her Pierre Frey carpet.
“Did your mom drop you as a baby?”
Raven was just about to go off, when Raja came into the hallway, her fiance grabbing her jacket from the hook before she leaned down to kiss Raven.
“Are you sure you’re not going to stay?”
“There isn’t enough money in the world.” Raja laughed, and Raven pouted, the two kissing again.
“Say hi to everyone from me?”
“I will.”
***
“Hey…” Courtney leaned on Bianca’s shoulder from behind, Courtney dressed up to the nines. “So I was thinking… Maybe I can some with you tonight, instead of to going to Raven’s…”
Bianca turned around and kissed Courtney’s cheek, lacing their fingers together. “Sounds good to me.”
“I wish,” Courtney groaned and peeled herself off Bianca, getting ready to go.
“What’s the matter? I thought those drunk bitches were your new BFFs, and hasn’t Raven been good, too?”
“Yeah, everyone’s been cool.” Courtney shrugged. “It’s her friends I don’t trust.”
“Well, they’re jealous, baby. I mean… You’ve got everything they want.” Bianca flashed her dimples.
Courtney laughed and rolled her eyes. “Yes, I know, I’m the luckiest girl in the world.”
Bianca kissed her neck. “Luck has very little to do with it…”
Giggling, Courtney slid her arms around Bianca’s shoulders. “To be honest, those cunts are probably a safer bet than Fame and Raja anyway.”
“That’s...accurate.”
***
"Ravey baby abre la puerta!" Jaslene yelled in Spanish from out in the hall where she had just been let in by a very confused cameraman.
"Raaave, where are you? We have the juice of your homeland!" Celia laughed as they dumped into the livingroom.
"Heeey!" Raven greeted as the two women enveloped her in a crushing hug.
"It's Ravey's bachelorette party!" Jaslene sang as she bounced on the balls of her feet.
"Yay Rave!" Celia squealed as she held he Russian woman tighter.
"I can't breathe," Raven wheezed out before Celia and Jaslene let her go, allowing her to take a deep breath. "Thank you."
"No problem," Celia chirped brightly with a brilliant smile, "We can't afford to have you pass out, and then endure your wrath for messing with the flow of your party."
"Because we all know how Raven is about her events." Jaslene said.
Raven laughed to herself, Celia and Jaslene looking around for the first time.
“Shit… You really outdid yourself this time Rave.”
The entire apartment had been transformed. Cascading waterfalls and lush floral arrangements lead the way to the bedrooms, where a rack of plush robes and slippers announced a full day spa with a nail salon, masseurs, and all kinds of beauty treatments.
The livingroom was a club/lounge with dance poles (governed by the one and only Mariah), a DJ, and a bartender mixing signature cocktails.
And in the dining room, three master pastry chefs were creating the most elaborate and divine desserts anyone had ever seen. Raven’s sweet tooth and grandiosity combined to form the greatest Venetian hour in history.
“Aww thanks Cece!” Raven beamed as the trio walked further into the room.
“It looks like, super professional.” Jaslene laughed, just before they heard the doorbell ring, more of the guests slowly arriving.
“You two go and get some snacks or a pre party facial,” Raven said brightly, “enjoy yourself, but most importantly, remember to enjoy Raja’s money!”
***
“Hey boo hey!” Jujubee greeted as soon as Raven opened the door to her home, the small asian woman smiling brightly.
“My little Juju!” Raven sang, giving her friend a big hug. “Hey Kelly belly,” she added as Kelly come into view, the teen looking mightily bored with the whole situation.
“Oh my god,” Kelly groaned as she hugged Raven before stepping into the condo. “Don't you think I've outgrown that name?” She whined pitifully while handing Raven a pink and gold gift bag.
“But you had such a cute little baby gut.”
“Wait, are those cameras?”
“Oh, right!” Raven smiled and grabbed the paperwork next that was laying on a little side table. “Courtney is filming Housewifes tonight, so you have to sign this.”
“Awesome!” Kelly reached out, ready to sign, but her mom grabbed her hand.
“Don’t even think about it Kelly Sanderson.”
“But moooom-”
“No.”
“Fine.” Kelly rolled her eyes, clearly displeased, but she gave up quickly, finding the beauty treatments on offer much more exciting.
“She gets it from her father,” Jujubee replied easily, putting her hands on her hips, easily signing the form herself.
“Ah, right...the other host of the evening. I wonder how he’s doing…” Raven chuckled to herself.
***
“The baby is finally sleeping,” Fame announced. “And now I think I understand why you invited us here, De.”
“That’s unfair. I invited you to celebrate Raja’s last few glorious days of singledom and reunite the group, all of us, …” Detox looked around and raised his glass, a smile on his face. “To Raja, and to the upcoming holidays.”
“Hear hear!” Sutan called, raising his beer bottle. Even though he and Raja were Muslim, he still absolutely loved christmas.
Patrick kissed Fame on the cheek and she leaned against him happily. Bianca rolling her eyes since she still hadn’t totally forgiven Patrick yet.
“So are you actually going to grill for us, or should I have a Postmates order ready to go?” Bianca asked, sipping her beer. They were all sitting in the livingroom, surrounded by toys and kids drawings.
“Oh ye of little faith!” Detox cried.
“Yeah, I feel like I literally just said I have no faith. None.” Bianca cackled, everyone laughing together. They could have gone out to celebrate Raja, but honestly all of them just wanted to stay in and spend time together, instead of going out and dealing with the public and the paparazzi.
Raja laughed and slung an arm around Bianca’s shoulders. “Let’s give him like an hour,” she said. “If there’s nothing edible by 7:30, then we can go for delivery.”
“Look, I had to give the monsters their dinner first, okay?” Detox smiled, Julia and Owen tucked up nicely in their room with Disney Channel on, the two beyond excited with the juice boxes and candy they got to share. “It’s done, so now I can fire up the grill!”
“You know it’s December, right? I’m just really skeptical of this whole plan.” Bianca dunked her beer, making Raja laugh, the woman clearly enjoying her friends’ argument.
“Let him do his thing, B. Stop being such a control freak,” Fame said.
“Oh I’m a control freak?! Said the bitch whose entire home is white.” Fame huffed and rolled her eyes while Patrick smirked, the state of their home and Fame’s choice in colorpalette often something their friends made fun of.
Suddenly two small creatures flew into the room and hurled themselves at the sofa.
“Holy shit!” Raja almost fell back as she was tackled, her arms filled with tiny twins, their mouths blue from their candy.
“YOU MADE A CURSE!” Julia giggled, pointing at Raja.
“How did you ever get used to that? I just got the wind knocked out of me!” Raja gasped.
“Oh, you never do.” Detox shook his head, easily picking up one of the twins, Owen settling down on his lap, the little boy looking around with wide eyes as Julia settled down on Raja’s lap.
“Bibi, where’s Courtney?” asked Julia, smiling at Bianca.
“She’s at Auntie Raven’s.”
“Oh. Where’s Auntie Raven?” Julia titled her head, looking at Bianca like she was trying to figure out a puzzle.
“She’s having another party. None of us are invited. It’s not for kids and it’s not for older people.”
“Isn’t that where Mommy is?” Julia said.
“Yes.”
“But she’s an older people.”
Sutan snorted, clearly entertained by Julia.
“She’s fun, though.”
“Oh yeah.” Julia laughed. Owen looked up.
“So you guys are having the boring party, and they have the fun party?”
Bianca reached for the little girl, tickling her. “Yes, exactly. Welcome to the boring party.”
***
“So remember, you’re supposed to get both of them to drink,” Jane instructed, as the sound guy strapped on Courtney’s mic pack.
“Yes, Jane.”
“A lot.”
“Yes, Jane.”
“We need a light, fun, turnt-up party sequence.”
“Got it, Jane.”
“But like, if they get emotional or cry or throw drinks, that’s awesome too.”
“Yes, Jane.”
“Basically, you know, the usual.” Jane winked and sent Courtney off towards the elevator, where she joined Adore, Alaska and Jinkx. Ramona and Sonja were still getting their mics placed, laughing and flirting with the cute sound guys.
“Jesus,” said Alaska. “Is she always so...”
“Yes,” Courtney sighed.
“You alright?” Adore asked.
“Yeah!” Courtney flashed a smile. “I’m always a little nervous with Raven et al… You know.”
“I thought you guys were like besties now?” Jinkx wondered.
“Well...I mean, yeah. But now her whole squad will be there, and the cameras. Those girls just love drama and they all blame me for Bianca firing her even though I had nothing to do with it - I actually still don’t even know what happened. But I did get Tati the job. And then there was all that drama at the Galactica show, which made it into the tabloid, and...but I mean, no, I’m sure it’ll be fine.”
Adore put an arm around Courtney’s shoulders. “Look, we got your back, babe. Plus, we’ll just drink heavily and try to get Sonja to go insane..”
“It doesn’t take much,” Courtney laughed, stepping out of the elevator and ringing Raven’s doorbell.
“Exactly! Then the cameras will focus on that!”
“/Jane…/” hissed a voice over the walkie.
“/Yeah, Jeremy, I heard it./”
“/Want me to go start some shit with the models?/”
“/Of course I do, Jeremy./”
“/Copy that, boss./”
“Adore darling!” Raven greeted as she leapt at the younger woman as soon as she opened the door.
“Mother Russia!” Adore replied as Raven crushed her face in between her boobs as she hugged the shorter girl. “Your boobs are smothering me,” she wheezed out.
“Oops,” Raven said as she let Adore go. “Sorry, I just didn't think you were coming since I didn't hear from you,” She continued happily as she looked Adore up and down, “you look good, has your butt gotten bigger?”
“I texted you! I hope my plus two isn’t an issue,” Adore laughed.
“Of course not, the more the merrier. Hey, ladies, welcome,” Raven greeted Alaska and Jinkx with air kisses, and gave Courtney a hug. “Come see this,” Raven winked, leading them inside.
*
Violet pushed the door to the kitchen open, sneaking inside, a breath of relief leaving her as she found the kitchen blissfully empty besides the waiters who were thankfully ignoring her. As soon as Violet had walked into Raja and Raven’s apartment, Frida dropped off downstairs at Sutan’s, she had been cornered by a production assistant, the man bothering her with a photo release that Violet had refused to sign right away. There was no way in hell she was going to end up on TV, no matter how much Courtney and well... Bascially everyone around her seemed to think it was a good idea. Violet opened the cabinet and grabbed a glass of water, filling it with ice cold water. It was going to be a long, long, long night at the Amrull Petruschin household.
*
“Holy shit…” Adore breathed.
Raven laughed, putting an arm around Adore. “I decided my theme would be ‘Raven’s Favorite Things’...you know, like Oprah…”
“I mean, even for you, this is over the fucking top, dude,” Adore said, looking back and forth between the dance floor, the waterfalls, the pastry chefs, spa services...she snatched a crabcake piled with caviar from a passing tray.
“Thank you,” Raven fluttered her lashes in mock humility.
“Courtney, I think we found your homegirls…” Alaska said, gesturing to the dance poles, where Sonja and Ramona were drinking white wine and twirling around with no rhythm, accompanied by a beautiful black woman. She appeared amused by their antics though, holding a martini and laughing with them as they gyrated wildly.
“Courtneyyyyyyy!” Sonja screamed, pulling the younger blonde in for a hug.
“Hiya!” Courtney said, looking back at Adore and Alaska with a look of terror on her face, the cameraman in the corner of the room catching her expression perfectly.
“Come dance, baby! This gorgeous bitch, Mariah, is teaching us all these greaaaaat moves!” Sonja slurred.
“I think I need a drink or two to catch up,” Courtney laughed.
“I think I’m gonna go get a massage,” said Jinkx, turning around to leave the dancefloor as Courtney was dragged away.
“We can’t leave her!” Adore said, a whine in her voice.
“You can stay and get turnt with the ladies who lunch. Imma get a massage.” Jinkx kissed Adore on the forehead.
Alaska blew Adore a kiss and followed Jinkx. “Sorry, Lil’ Bear. You’ll understand when you hit your thirties…”
Adore rolled her eyes and grabbed two cocktails from a passing tray. “Here Courtney! Drink this!”
***
“Are you sure Raven wants me here, Allie?”
“Of course.” Allison smiled, her and Tatianna taking their jackets off, Allison quickly brushing a bit of snow out of Tatianna’s long black hair. “Everyone loves you.”
“If you say so.”
Allison took the releases they had been given. “So... Are you going to sign?”
“Do you think Sutan would forgive us if we didn’t?”
“Not really no.”
“Give it here then.”
Allison laughed and handed Tatianna a pen.
***
“Celia, right? And Jaslene?”
The girls looked up from their massage tables at the squirrely-looking man holding a clipboard, flanked by two cameramen. “Yeah…?” Celia said sweetly, with only a slight tinge of suspicion. She wasn’t going to be overtly rude even though she could tell this man had shady intentions. Screentime was screentime, after all.
“I just wanted to ask you about some history you have with one of our cast members...Courtney Act? She mentioned you in a confessional.”
Jaslene narrowed her eyes. “Oh really?”
“Well, she mentioned that her friend Tatianna knows you. Apparently Tatianna said that you were rude to her at a fashion show because Courtney had gotten her a job that you thought she’d stolen from the guest of honor? Is that true?”
Jeremy cocked his head as Jaslene looked at Celia. “Is that bitch Tati still talking about the fucking Galactica show, even after Allie has taken her under her wing?! And whining to Courtney about it? Who repeats it? I swear that bitch has no fucking sense.”
“Raven was right about her from the beginning. I can’t wait until Bianca dumps her basic Britney wannabe ass.”
Jeremy smiled, nodding to the cameras to keep rolling as he slowly backed away.
***
“See, I told you you’d like it!” Raven laughed. “Peachy crystal pink is the perfect shade for you!” Raven wiggled her fingers, her own nails filed and ready to dig into Raja’s back the moment she got the chance to jump her fiance.
Courtney giggled and spun around, finishing her drink. “You’re so lucky you can have long nails all the time.. These french tips look bitching on me.”
Bitching? Courtney was really drunk. Raven took her hand back, admiring the color. “Well. What can I say, it’s all part of life as a princess.”
Courtney’s mouth opened in an adorable O, the woman clearly ready to make it into an argument that Raven would love to pick apart piece by piece, but just then Adora came running, pulling Courtney away.
“Lighten up, bitch! Keep drinking!” Adore cried. “This is our song!”
“Fine, fine, fine!” Courtney laughed and got up, following Adore onto the dance floor that was filled with people that Raven knew, some better than others.
Raven leaned back in her chair, pulling her phone up to send Raja a picture of the makeup and hair the makeup artist had done on her.
“Don’t worry, we’ve got your back!”
Raven looked up, confused at Celia that had just sat down next to her, the blonde whispering to her and ruining her selfie session.
“Thanks, girl!” Raven replied, slightly puzzled, handing her a glass of champagne. “Cheers!”
Celia toasted her and then backed away, shooting an ice glare towards the dancefloor. Raven had no idea what was going on, but Raja had just viewed her snap, and that was all that mattered.
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