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#its like high school is hell and it feels like it lasts forever but suddenly its just gone and there wasnt enough time

cowboyjen68 · 9 months

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this might seem some stupid teenage problem to you but how do i deal with my friends having boyfriends and girlfriends while im just depressingly lonely as hell? i mean we still talk but im just scared that they'll just pay more attention to theie boyfriends and girlfriends coz they did that the last time we went to our friend's house for karaoke. its not a bad thing to pay attention to boyfriends and girlfriends but sometimes i just feel left out. plus my friends used to joke abt me being single when i already feel like shit because im single and the only relationship i had was with a boy that i literally regretted to get together with bc he wasn't even a decent person to me. they don't make jokes like that anymore when i had enough and told them to stop it. idk if im being clingy at all but its like i just feel left out coz last time we went to have karaoke at my friend's house some of them just straight up pay more attention to their boyfriends and girlfriends and idk i just feel left out mostly bc it kinda feels like i have no one to talk to atp. again im not saying it's a bad thing but how can i stop feeling left out? and why's being gay kinda hard? most of my friends r in hetero relationships and they had it easy. the only relationship i had was with my toxic childhood friend who wasn't a decent person. plus everytime i like a girl, either they're lgbtq+ but just like boys more, straight or a piece of shit. why's it so hard for me to have a girlfriend? is it because im ugly? awkward? too introverted? or maybe the fact that i kinda suck at socializing bc i literally dont socialize alot? everything always goes wrong for me in my love life while my friends have it easy. im sorry if its too long

Forgive typos. I’m on my phone. And tired.

First. Big butch mom hugs to you. Take a breath and read this.

You are not by any means alone. And even in adulthood. Those of us grownups who are single often find ourselves lamenting the “loss” of a friend who is in a néw relationship. That friend is still our friend but her time is suddenly drastically limited. My best friend who was single for 12 years was my constant companion. Now she’s finally found love and two years in I’ve spent a total of maybe 6 hours with her. And it’s never just her and I. It’s only in group gatherings. It’s sad and hard to say the least. It’s feeling lonely even as I try to let other friends step in. The space she occupied will always be hers.

High school. College. Youthful friend groups tend to be much wider and less static. A constant refreshing of new love interests and I do remember those who dates feeling very intense emotions both at the start and end of such couplings. When you’re the single one you never the priority to others because they are expending so much time and energy to the mostly futile attempt to make fleeting romances work out. You don’t require energy since they assume (albeit unconsciously) you will just be there. Which is not fair. Friendship requires attention.

Sometimes we just have to toss ourselves into our own joys. Go to things you love alone. Have coffee. Enjoy a meal. Don’t sequester yourself to the internet to find connections. Be okay with you. Eventually others wil come in your life.

Do not date just to not be alone. Being miserable in a relationship is worse than just staying single and loving time with yourself.

I won’t lie and tell you loneliness will just abate. But I can say it won’t be forever. And friends will evolve and shift your entire life. You take all the good things. And bad from each one into the next and learn who and what enhances your life the most.

#lesbian #dating #friendship #lonliness

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hyperfixating-rn-brb · 3 months

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I think i realized part of why I love good omens so much. because not every love story happens when people are young. and not every love story is fully realized.

aziraphale and crowley are thousands of years old, and they found love. we don't know how long they were angels before the invention of time, or how long they existed before they met. and they found each other and they found love. they may have denied it for 6000 years, but they felt they had no choice. Heaven and hell would destroy them, and it simply wasn't safe. when the time comes for them to be almost fully comfortable in their relationship, they're torn apart again. but they found love and they will reunite and have their happy ending.

gabriel and beelzebub found love after millenia of leading their separate sides, sticking resolutely to the idea of the great plan. until they stopped. what if there was no armaggedon? what if you said you liked this song and now its the only thing that will play here? what if I loved you? gabriel and beelzebub cut ties with heaven and hell, and dissappear together. we don't know where they went and its likely we'll never know, but they're happy and together. it took them millenia, but they found love.

nina and maggie probably still aren't together, but I personally believe they will once nina is in a better headspace. they've both been in relationships before, nina is presently in the process of a breakup with the emotionally abusive lindsey. but they are able to enjoy each others company and maybe someday have a beautiful and healthy relationship. they're both adults who have been in relationships and broken up, and they're finding love.

as much as i love many of the storyline, sometimes it hurts to see so many stories where all these people my own age are getting in their first relationships and are suddenly together forever. they find love almost immediately and live happily ever after. we never see what happens after the first few chapters, and most of the time we don't know if they ever break up or if every character ends up living a happy life with their high school sweetheart. that storyline is so much of what these books and shows tell us, but not everything is like that. people break up and deal with toxic and abusive situations and sometimes just don't work out. most people don't end up with the first person they like. they might not even fall in love with that person. as a teenager myself, so many adults tell me that high school relationships will never last and jts easier to wait until adulthood. but if that's what they tell us, why constantly tell this narrative of perfect young love? sometimes watching this same story makes me feel like I'm falling behind when I see these characters my age being so happy and in relationships while I'm stuck alone and anxious.

good omens is a wonderfully diverse show, but one of my favorite parts is how essentially every romantic storyline takes place well into the characters lives, with lives and past relationships. people can grow and change and not be made to feel as if they have to live happily ever after with the first person they like. they take their time figuring things out. they live close but barely interacting until they are drawn together later in life. they work nearby and come together during a chaotic time and bond over the stressful situations. and they find love, no matter where they are in life, what they've been through. they find love because love isn't just something limited to teenagers.

#haleys rant of the day #ill be here all night folks #its super late so sorry about any odd tangents or repetition #i need sleep #but yeah honestly life happens shit gets messy #not every relationship is going to last forever #good omens #ineffable husbands #ineffable beurocracy #nina and maggie

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dangermousie · 1 year

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S2 ep 1

1. This show continues its belief in lack of clothes and work outs. This is our first shot of Marcos this season.

2. Hector making up with Elsa out of duty while he and Maria stare at each other is a total visual parallel with Carol making up with Ivan out of pity while she and Marcos stare at each other. In both cases, NEITHER relationship leg of that triangle works out, which is surprisingly realistic.

3. Some of the creepiest things were constantly associated with Paula. Btw, pls tell me I am not losing my mind and she’s the clone of Irene, Marcos’ mom?

4. The one thing that can consistently, shamelessly make me cry in this show is not any ships (not even my beloved Ivan x Julia), not even Maria’s maternal relationship with Ivan but the way Marcos is the best brother to Paula. That just hits me straight in the softest, most vulnerable part of my heart. He may have been a lousy boyfriend, but an excellent friend and a brother without equal. This scene, where he tries to explain to Paula what death is and why she should enjoy life even though death is inevitable by likening it to her loving her birthday party even though she knows the candles will be blown out, the clown will leave and the party will end - ooooof. And the way he answers all her difficult questions (can children die? why do we not live forever? etc) and somehow manages to smile and make it all a good talk and not a horror...

5. Fermin, our amazing super agent, is so so so SO soft for Maria.

6. The thing that I always loved about Marcos was how unbreakable and unbroken he was. (I think he’s inherited it from his mother and Hector.) You could break Ivan (show delighted in doing just that tbh) though he’d be able to glue himself together somehow - continuing despite being in pieces was his trademark. But you could never break Marcos, not in any way that mattered (unless they took Paula away I suppose - shudder.) But also, when he tells Hector he could never be like his father - the bitter irony of that in retrospect. He’s right in the worst, best ways.

7. It’s pretty telling that Ivan on the run felt safe to call Maria and ask for help. Even if it all turned badly (Hector followed and brought him back to school and now Ivan is back to loathing her feeling betrayed), it speaks volumes about his instincts being on point.

I am also amused to note that this is the start of them not even bothering to pretend he looks like a high school student. Hi there, leather and designer stubble!

8. He’s only been on screen for a minute in this new season and he’s already being broken down. This show def catered to its strengths!!!!

I do so love Maria tentatively trying to console him. I looooooove how slow they took the mother-son thing.

9. Noiret! We did not miss you. I do love Ivan basically hiding behind Hector and asking to stay. It’s pretty telling that, as @theseasasleep pointed out, the school that might as well be a portal to hell is Ivan’s haven.

10. “I hate you!” Poor Maria, having to deal with teen acting out without having even gotten the cute baby years.

11. Marcos telling Ivan he’s glad Ivan’s OK. Awwwww, another step on your road to eventual cuddling bros!

12. The first and last time we see parents care about what is going on at the school. Apparently it’s drugs that’s the deal breaker. Not corpses or plagues or a convicted child abuser running the place or literal Nazis!!!!

Somehow with those parents that tracks however.

PS Have noticed that this school has provided zero support or counseling to minors whose classmate and friend supposedly overdosed and died suddenly? It’s business as usual!

#el internado #mousie rewatches el internado #yon gonzalez #spanish tv

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mexicajun · 2 years

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Rattled

This record tells the story of a man who went through a mental crisis during the COVID-19 pandemic--my story.

“Vinyl”

The record starts out with a typical Dr. C rock song. The song is about how the music I tend to write isn’t groundbreaking, but it still connects with old school fans—kind of like vinyl.

I ain’t trying to reinvent no motherfuckin wheel Just get me from A to B And I ain’t trying to disrupt, pick up, and move the needle I just rather spin than stream

It is almost go time Time to go roll up my sleeves Put the circle on the mat And sing

I hate sitting in the silence between two good songs Give me a little crackling And I hate when you skip around getting the order all wrong Don’t come with that shuffling

It is almost go time Time to go roll up my sleeves Put the circle on the mat And sing

Hey! My last take was final! Hey! Press that shit to vinyl! Hey! Baby you’re so fine-o! Hey! Press that shit to vinyl!

“Fellas & Ladies”

The beginning of the pandemic was a lonely time. This song tells the story of being reunited with friends and returning to the stage to play music again.

All my friends were taken away from Me so suddenly (Oh yeah) My heart went from being full to Completely empty (Oh yeah)

I have got something to tell ya I missed y’all like crazy All of my fellas And all of my ladies

Ain’t nothing like playing for ya To sing with somebody All of my fellas And all of my ladies

A sea of people all dried up Left me so lonely (Oh yeah) I will ride the wave for the rest Of eternity (Oh yeah)

I long for all of your loud lungs Screaming right at me (Oh yeah)

I have got something to tell ya I missed y’all like crazy All of my fellas And all of my ladies Ain’t nothing like playing for ya To sing with somebody All of my fellas And all of my ladies

“I Miss Your Soul”

My two closest friends moved away during the pandemic. I miss them terribly and wrote these words about that feeling.

I remember the time when we met It ain’t ‘bout to be something I forget

Our spirits collided and they meshed Mine ain’t been the same since you left Where we attached there’s a big ol’ hole Don’t know if I can be whole

I miss your soul

We flew so high when we were together Now I feel like I’ve been grounded forever Someone who’s just as good of a dancer It ain’t no fun alone in the mirror

Our spirits collided and they meshed Mine ain’t been the same since you left Where we attached there’s a big ol’ hole Don’t know if I can be whole

I miss your soul

“How to Sin”

At this point in the record, my mental status is changing. I suddenly feel the urge to do bad things, but being that this is against my nature, I don’t know how.

This halo It hangs so low It’s gotten hold Of my neck in a choke This stranglehold It won’t let me go

Show me how you love Teach me how you give Let’s go spill some blood Teach me how you kill Show me how you lust Teach me all the thrills My hell is your heaven But I don’t know where to begin So won’t you teach me how to sin

This halo It’s gotten so old It’s lost its glow It wastes away, it corrodes This rusty o It won’t let me go

“Bare Hands”

Hypomania and then mania start to set in. During this episode, I feel invincible—like “I could kill Superman with my bare hands.”

Look! Up in the sky! It’s a bird! It’s a plane! No, it’s a mere mortal about to meet his end I’m about to leap a tall building in a single bound Catch him and then bury him six feet underground

Ain’t no need for kryptonite Bet I won’t use half my might Ain’t no weapons in my plan Because I can kill Superman with my bare hands

I’ma rip his cape, I’ma break his bones, I’ma stop his heart Faster than a speeding bullet I don’t need no motive to stop this locomotive I just want to do it

Ain’t no need for kryptonite Bet I won’t use half my might Ain’t no weapons in my plan Becuase I can kill Superman with my two bare hands

Ain’t no need for kryptonite Bet I won’t use half my might Ain’t no weapons in my plan I killed Superman with my bare fuckin hands

“Mirage”

Peak mania takes over my brain. I lose control and start seeing things. I refuse and fight off people trying to help me. I have so much resiliency that I feel like I could walk/run/dance through an entire desert.

I keep on dancin’, keep on dancin’ In this desert, watch how I move I keep on sweatin’, keep on sweatin’ But it ain’t gonna ruin my groove Cuz I’m seein, cuz I’m seein’ An oasis at latitude

Oh my, my, I can’t believe my eyes! (Oh my, my!)

The sun is shinin’, sun is shinin’ Off the sand, the light is so bright But I keep on truckin’, keep on truckin’ Through the sand, it’s my fuel, it’s my fire I think I’m dyin’, think I’m dyin’ But at the same time, I feel so alive!

Oh my, my, I can’t believe my eyes! (Oh my, my!)

I’ll have a drink at the oasis Oh my, my, I can’t believe my eyes! (Oh my, my!)

“Precious”

I wake up in a mental hospital with some very, very ill patients. One of those patients was named Precious. She would walk into a room and just stand there starting into space. She did not and perhaps could not talk. I couldn’t believe I was in a facility with someone so ill. However, as the lyrics indicate, I was pretty sick myself.

I’ll never forget the time when we first met We were waiting in line to get our meds

They’ll all say that I’m crazy But in my head it’s meant to be You’ll always be Precious to me

Oh my heart, the way I miss you so Since they put you away in iso

They’ll all say that you’re crazy But in my head it’s meant to be You’ll always be Precious to me

Was it love at first sight Or were you staring through me? Did you profess your feelings? Do you even speak?

They’ll all say that we’re crazy But in my head it’s meant to be You’ll always be Precious to me.

“Get Me Out of Here”

This tune is about the different patients that were in the hospital and how the environment was traumatizing.

Nurse is in the clinic mixing up the medicine Roomie’s in the toilet throwing up his guts again Frank is talkin’ ‘bout cocaine, meth, and heroine Jenn woke the whole place screamin at 11pm

I’m humbled, if that wasn’t clear Now get me out of here!

Lisa’s speaking words only she can understand Joe acted out so he could have a roof over his head Precious got me locked down with her stare of death Billy’s got the whole staff holding him down in his bed

I’m humbled, if that wasn’t clear Now get me out of here!

“Locked Up in a Dream”

I’m released from the hospital, and I’m facing the reality of how strange I acted when I was ill. Mania felt like I was locked up in a dream that I could not wake from. It’s confusing to have to apologize for behavior I could not control nor remember.

I closed my eyes with you by my side When I woke up May became July The bed was empty, the house was so quiet I didn’t even get a goodbye

It’s so hard for me to believe Because my love for you is real How could I break your heart, baby If I’m locked up in a dream?

They were so heavy, the door and my eyes I couldn’t break out of my own mind I’m finally free, but you I can’t find I didn’t even get a goodbye

It’s so hard for me to believe Because my love for you is real How could I break your heart, baby If I’m locked up in a dream?

Up in my brain, I am detained In all these waves, I’m locked away Up in my head, I am restrained Here in my mind, I am confined In a nightmare, I am contained Prisoner to my gray matter Would you believe I’m locked up in a dream?

“Bad For Me”

At this strange time in my life, for whatever reason, I had women interested in and pursuing me. I had to turn them away to prioritize my mental health.

You are so beautiful I’ve seen you in my dreams But I don’t know if I Am awake or asleep

You seem so alive As brilliant as it gets But are you in my mind? Are you a side effect?

I don’t want to fall in love with you But I can’t help myself I don’t want to fall in love with you You’re bad for my health

I remember the time Whenever we met I had butterflies I had to up my meds

I can’t listen to my heart I can’t listen to my head I have to listen To what my doctor says

I don’t want to fall in love with you But I can’t help myself I don’t want to fall in love with you You’re bad for my health

“Outer Space Blues”

A huge crash followed the manic episode. I was so depressed that I didn’t care if I just died. This song describes the extreme high I felt for a period of time followed by the huge crash.

From the view from Mercury The Earth looks so tiny From the view from Mercury The Earth looks so tiny I bet you can’t see Me waving goodbye

The temperature’s gone up As I drift into the sun The temperature’s gone up As I drift into the sun Gonna take all my problems Throw ‘em in and watch ‘em burn

Watch me burn

“Chris”

A year and a half after my hospitalization, I’ve finally begun to feel better. I now realize how people can make poor decisions when they are in a state of mind beyond their control. I sympathize with those who can be suicidal and those who die by suicide because I had a period of time where I could not control my thought or actions. In this song, I honor my idol Chris Cornell, who died by suicide in 2017. It is thought that he was in an altered state of mind before his death.

When the dogs tucked in their tails When that voice no longer wailed I knew you were set free When my good eye opened up When your black days were enough I knew you were set free

Patiently Loud and so lovely Patiently I knew you were set free

I’ve always hailed you as king Now fly as high as you sing

When the seasons rolled on by When a bruise formed in the sky I knew you were set free When the outside world blew up When your black days were enough I knew you were set free

Patiently Loud and so lovely Patiently I knew you were set free

I’ve always hailed you as king Now fly as high as you sing

When the dogs dug up their bones While you waited there alone Patiently

I’ve always hailed you as king Now fly as high as you sing

“(When I Die) I Want a Second Line”

I’m finally feeling myself and having fun again. Not caring about living or dying seems like a strange, foreign thought to me now. I pledge to lead my life to the fullest, and when my time actually comes, I don’t want a funeral--I want a celebration. The song ends with a brass band playing the main riff

Every time I’m in a funk

I take I-10 to New Orleans

A few Meters down to hear some funk

I will pass up Bourbon—I prefer Frenchmen

Every time it rains, it floods

But this time I have come prepared

I will parade on the rain

I’ll forget to worry and I will forget to care

Well baby, when I die

I want a second line

Don’t nobody cry

Just celebrate my life

When I’m up on my final balcony

And I’m done with my revelry

I want to look down upon a carnival

I want to look down at a festival

The Saints will take care of me

Don’t you pass a bit of worry

Don’t arrange no eulogy

Just arrange to have a band lead all y’all down the street

Well baby, when I die

I want a second line

Don’t nobody cry

Just celebrate my life

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creepypasta-archive · 2 years

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Le rose X the epic jeff the killer

by BubblePerson

So does anyone remember how in Forever Smiling Jeff stops and freezes once she confuses the protagonist/victim with "Rose"? No? Well I'll remember so you don't have to. Anyway this was 1 of the 2 only stories i could find that had Jeffrey interact with a Rose. The other one was a Wattpad novel lenght spanish fanfiction called "La Muerte Está Cerca", which i had no way of archiving or translating in a normal amount of time. Therefore i set that This... thing... is the canonical Rose and the reason why Jeff froze that day.

CW// bullying, assault, stalking, blood, abuse

Click below to read the original unedited story

rosealias pov

I was walking to school, I tried to convince my mom to home school me but she said no. I walked briskly to my school Ledgeveiw high. I am 16 and emo. I have a reason... That's when I saw those three. The bitches Mary,Sue, and Hope. I suddenly felt my stomach turn as I quickly backed away. Then Hope saw me.

"Why looky here what have I found" said hope teasingly.

"An emo brat who needs to learn her place" responded Sue jumping off the car she was sitting on.

"S-SHUT THE FUCK UP" I screamed starting to cry.

"Aw did the baby lose her teddy" taunted Mary jumping off the roof of her car.

"This is pay back for existing" said hope punching me.

"Baby.." Said Mary joining in.

"s-st-stop" I stuttered trying to break free.

Jeffs pov

I saw her, well actualy I was following her. I saw those girls attack her. 'why do I feel so angry at those girls" I thought wanting to run up and kill them

"maybe you should kill yourself brat" said sue attacking her , oh how much I wanted to kill those girls. Then I stopped 'there attacking my target how fo I feel sorry for her" I thought confused I've never felt like this.

"Y-you ass holes " she screamed running off to school

'ill follow her' I thought using the small Magic slender gave me to look human... I followed her to school

rose pov

Those three..... I had a bloody nose and my arm hurt like fucking hell... I secretly cursed them under my breath while picking up my stuff... A youngish boy around my age came up to me.

"need help" he asked politely "sure"I said trying to be nice. "here" he said handing me some books , then a news paper fell out of his backpack. "Whats this" I asked eyeing the front cover. "oh that... It's a newspaper" he responded. "no I meen why do you have it" I said "I am reading about the murders" he responded helping me up. "well we're gonna be late for school" I said dragging him behind me.

jeff pov

wow that girl is strong... I thought mesmerized by her strength .. WAIT JEFF YOU CANT FALL IN LOVE WITH THE VICTIM... I heard slender yell in my head.... But now I'm falling for thus girl.

"hey can you slow down" I said trying to stop her movement

"not right now" she said running faster

"well can you at least let me stand up" I said

"oooo kaaaay" she sighed

"now LAST ONE THERE IS A BROKEN KNIFE" I yelled

Jeffs pov

How am I a psychopathic murderer falling in love with a girl I just met. Last time this happened she hated me. I JUST WAS MAKING HER BEATIFUL . Now how much farther till school

~time skip brought to you by Cweepypasta making Creepypasta cuter everyday~

Roses pov

"a broken knife you say" I said running ahead of the boy "I just realized something... I never asked your name" he said "oh my names Rosealia but you can call me Rose" I responded happily "I'm Jeffrey but call me Jeffy" he said "well hi Jeffy nice to meet you.... Oh and schools over we took to much time talking" I said "well see ya around" he said running "bye" I said

~time skip brought to you by Knives perfect for stabbing your enemies~

Its been a week and I haven't seen Jeffy at all.... What if he forgot about me... I took my knife out of the drawer and slowly dragged the blade across the skin of my arm. Putting it away I ran back to my room to take a nap.

jeffys pov

Slender took me back to the mansion . And guess who's waiting to annoy me.. The one the only Jane. She walked up to me holding out her knife.

"so you want to play that game huh"I asked pulling out my knife "where were you you freak" she said slowly walkng towards me. "I was out killing DUH Jane " I responded "you were gone for a week" she snarled attacking me "so you do want to play" I said smiling , oh wait I'm always smiling as I blocked her attack "you bastard" she responded shoving me against a wall

#jeff the killer #creepypasta #fanfiction #jtk #horror #story #romance

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rebeccccccaaa · 3 years

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ᴄᴀᴛ’s ɢᴏᴛ ʏᴏᴜʀ ᴛᴏɴɢᴜᴇ?

__________________________

ᴄᴀᴍ ʙᴏʏ/ʀᴏᴏᴍᴍᴀᴛᴇ! ʙᴜᴄᴋʏ ʙᴀʀɴᴇs x ʀᴇᴀ��ᴇʀᴀᴜ

sᴜᴍᴍᴀʀʏ: You have always been more modest not really ever having time to explore what could have been some sort of sensual alter ego and when Bucky finds out hes determined to bring the sex goddess in you out.

ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢs: slight fluff if you count flirty bucky, smut ofc (minors dni) [cam boy bucky (slight tipsy bucky and reader in the beginning); brief male masterbation (bucky has his door open during a session); fem!rec oral; hair pulling; spanking; real dirty talking; strong language, degradation; loss of virginity/ virgin reader but not innocent, touch starved reader, and overstim, overall pretty rough but aftercareeee]

ᴀᴜᴛʜᴏʀ’s ɴᴏᴛᴇs: sorry in advanced if you don’t like iced coffee lol

_____________________________

“There’s no way; you’re such a fucking liar,” Bucky threw his head back with laughter.

“I knew I shouldn’t have fucking said anything,” you scoff, rolling your eyes before standing up with annoyance.

“No! Don’t go, come on. I didn’t mean it like that,” he chuckled.

“Yeah right,” you scoffed.

“Can I ask why?”

“I mean, honestly. I just never really had time. Although, I did avoid sweaty football players all of high school, but being in uni I just want to grind and grind, you know? Finish school and get my degree. I don’t really have much time going out and getting laid,” you explained.

“Shit, does my… ‘side job’ make you uncomfortable? I didn’t realize how you would feel about it being a vir-”

“Buck, I’m a virgin, not innocent,” you chuckled.

“Damn straight,” Bucky laughed.

“Let me help you,” he said, making you laugh out loud.

"With what?" you asked in disbelief.

"Let me take your virginity. 'S better than fucking some random drunkard in a one night stand, and let's face it, you're not getting a boyfriend anytime soon."

You couldn't help but keep laughing at what he was saying.

“What?” he asked, confused.

“You’re so full of shit, Barnes,” you snorted, too drunk to notice that Bucky wasn’t laughing.

“Offer stands whenever, pretty girl.”

That was four weeks ago.

Since then, you feel like the tension between you and your roommate was especially thick since your tipsy confession. You couldn’t tell whether the things Bucky would say now were intentionally inappropriate or you just had a dirty mind. He seemed to always be shirtless; always.

“Did all your shirts catch fire? No, they got stolen, huh?” you joked.

“Har, har. Don’t be such a prude, pretty girl.”

“I’m not a prude,” you mumbled; at least he had the muscles to flaunt.

One quiet Friday evening, you sat in your room working away at your desk. You had been at it for a couple hours and as much as you wanted to throw in the towel you were so close to finishing everything you needed to finish this weekend. You went to the kitchen to grab a snack, maybe make a coffee, before drilling for the last hour to get everything done.

“Hey, pretty girl,” Bucky said, standing with a glass of whiskey in hand. He always drinks before filming.

“Gettin’ ready for your… stuff?” you asked.

“What stuff?” he asked cheekily, making you roll your eyes.

“Yeah, I haven’t posted anything in a couple weeks and my subscribers are thirsty,” he told you.

“I can only imagine,” you joked.

“Well, baby, I’m in the next room if you wanna stop imagining,” he said flirtatiously

“Fuck off. I’m just here to get coffee,” you smirked, grabbing the things you’ll need from the fridge.

“Well, then I’ll leave you to it,” Bucky said, smacking your ass hard before leaving for his room; you scoffed rolling your eyes at his antics.

You turned around making the coffee itself mindlessly before you grew slight concern when you had yet to hear the door of Bucky’s bedroom to shut. He always kept his door shut whilst you wore headphones blasting music so you wouldn’t have to listen to his unnecessary moaning and cursing. You silently begged the machine to hurry it’s brewing as Bucky began talking and moaning to his audience.

You gritted your teeth hearing him so clearly. Your breathing quickened and you felt your cheeks heat up. You hated how you wondered if he really was as vocal in bed as he portrayed online. You hated the way your stomach flipped and the tingle between your thighs. You’ve never felt so aroused before, you didn’t know what to do.

“Fucking hell,” he groaned, and you swallowed the dry lum in your throat.

You don’t even know how long you stood in the kitchen listening to Bucky. You were incredibly aroused, wetness pooling between your thighs. Your hands gripped at the counter desperate to not let your knees buckle as he got closer to his release.

“God, fuck you James,” you mumbled to yourself.

You couldn’t take it the groans he practically was screaming from his room. You stomped your way to his room to yell at him to close the door. You were enraged but you don’t really know why. Bucky’s side job never bothered so much until now and truthfully he wasn’t really to blame for how turned on you felt hearing him.

“Can you close the goddamn door?” you yelled approaching his bedroom.

“I hate to interrupt but I can fucking hear you- in the… kitchen,” you trailed off.

Bucky sat on his bed completely nude. His cheeks were red and his forehead had a layer of sweat as did his very smooth and very toned chest. Your body completely froze. It’s not that you hadn’t seen a man naked before. You’ve watched porn during the more stressful and lonelier nights, but Bucky was beautiful.

“Care to join?” Bucky breathed with a stupid smile.

“Jesus,” you gasped.

“I ain’t forget about that offer, pretty girl,” Bucky stood, chuckling when you visibly trembled.

“Whatcha say? You ready to finally deflower?” Bucky walked closer to you with a devilish smirk plastered on his handsome face.

“I’m sorry-” you stumbled over your words.

Your stomach fluttered from nervousness and arousal, your skin bursted into chills despite how hot and sweaty you were beginning to feel. You kept your eyes trained to anywhere but Bucky’s assets.

"What's wrong, pretty girl? Cat's got your tongue?" he teased.

"James," you said sternly.

"Baby, I can make you feel so good. All you have to do is say the word," he whispered in your ear, making you shudder.

You know deep inside you that this wasn't a good idea in the long run. It sounds so tempting now but what would happen afterwards? What would happen to your friendship?

"Stop thinking so hard. Just let me make you feel good, please," he begged.

His hands caressed your sides and you couldn't resist squirming; he hasn't even touched you.

"I can tell you're starving. Itching to be touched by someone. Those lonely nights with a laptop and your fingers isn't enough. I can help you, pretty girl. Give you so much and more; give you nirvana. Just say the word," he spoke slowly, sensually; you were damn near shaking just from his words.

"Please," you whimpered.

"Please what?" he teased; Bucky was drunk off the power he had over you.

"Fuck me. Use me. Ruin me," you begged.

"As you wish."

Bucky grabbed the back of your neck smashing his lips to yours. He grinded his hips into you and you feel his hard on digging into you. Your fingers dug into the soft skin of his chest leaving small red marks and scratches littered.

Bucky moved his hand up behind your head, curling his fingers in your hair pulling harshly. his lips instantly attached to your neck biting and sucking to mark you, so you remember he was the one who made you feel euphoric in the coming days. He wants you to remember this night.

"Shit, that feels so good," you sighed.

"That's just the beginning, pretty girl. Get on the bed," he demanded.

You scurried to bed tearing your shirt and shorts off leaving you in your dark lacey undergarments.

"It's like you were ready for me to fuck you," he chuckled darkly.

He crawled up the bed to you like an animal hunting and taunting its prey. You couldn't help but nibble on your bottom lip, anxious for what was to come from Bucky.

His hands gripped your waist firmly pulling impossibly close to his body. He kissed you again and you swore you could stay like that forever. His lips felt so soft again yours, you melted against his body from pleasure.

His hands circled your back and pulled at the bra clasp before swiftly undoing it and letting free. You shrugged your shoulders to your ears allowing the straps of the bra fall gracefully down your upper arm before Bucky curled his finger over the front and tossed it aside to admire your chest.

Your shoulders subconsciously caved in, embarrassed to be so unclothed in front of someone for the first time. Again, you weren't innocent but anyone would still be nervous for their first time. Bucky smiled softly at your timidness; his hands rubbing your sides slowly and comforting to help ease your nerves a bit.

"You are so gorgeous, baby."

"Don't get sappy, Barnes," you joked; but in reality you don't need another reason to fall deeper for him. Not that you're falling to begin with.

"Yes ma'am," he grinned.

He flipped the both of you over so you laid on your back. His hands gently kneaded your breasts pulling moans from you with every squeeze. He leaned down, taking a nipple in his mouth, sucking and biting your perked buds, circling his tongue around. Your back arched into him and you think you can handle the pleasure but you find yourself involuntarily getting higher and higher. Moaning and gasping louder every time Bucky would bite down hard on your nipple. The last straw was when Bucky brought his fingers between your thighs and barely pressed against your aching clit that you fell suddenly over the edge crying Bucky's name.

"Did you just-"

"Fuck, I'm sorry! I don't know what happened. I- Everything just-"

Bucky cut you off with a deep kiss.

"Don't be sorry," he chuckled.

"It's really hot that I was able to make you cum by just playing with these beauties," he flicked your nipples and squeezed your breats making you tremble.

“Shit, too much,” you whined.

Bucky ignored you once again, dipping his head back down, flicking his tongue over your overly sensitive buds. The squeal you made made Bucky chuckle darkly but he didn’t want to torture you so his lips trailed slowly down the valley of your breasts to you belly and hip bones. His fingers curled over your panties dragging them slowly down your legs.

“Fucking hell, pretty girl. You’re dripping. You’ve just been aching for me to get my hands on you for a while, huh?” Bucky taunted.

“Please,” you whimpered.

“Absolutely gorgeous.”

Bucky’s hands rested against your knees pushing them as far as they could go before diving in you like a starved man. Truthfully, Bucky had dreamed of this moment since he met you for the first time moving in. As the days, weeks, and years went by, the urge to resist kissing and fucking you stupid was getting all to much. But now he finally has you under him, at his mercy and he was determined to pleasure as much as he could before getting his cock anywhere near you.

Bucky brought his fingers to circle your entrance, waiting until your legs were nearly shaking from the teasing. As he pushed his fingers past your folds, he brought his mouth down again kissing right above your clit. You gasped and sighed in pleasure as he pumped his fingers in and out of you heavenly.

“Shit, feels so good. So, so good,” you moaned.

Bucky’s tongue brushed over your clit and you couldn’t resist bucking your hips, pushing his fingers deeper inside you. Your back arched off the bed and your hands shot to his head tugging on his dark locks harshly. Bucky’s moans from your tugs vibrated against you and you knew you weren’t going to last any longer.

“Fuck, I’m gonna cum Bucky! Shit!” you shrieked.

“Come on, pretty girl. Be a good girl and come all over my fingers,” he said.

Seconds later, you reached your high, crying Bucky’s names again as if it was the only word you knew how to say. Your head practically dangled off the bed, scooting closer and closer to edge desperate to pull away from Bucky’s talented mouth.

“God, you’re beautiful when you fall apart like that,” Bucky mumbled against your heated skin.

Sweat lined your forehead and your chest, your hair was scattered across the sheets like a maniac, and your skin along your neck down to your inner thighs was littered with little bruises and bite marks from Bucky. You looked ethereal.

“One more. Can you give me one more?” Bucky asked softly.

“Fuck,” you whimpered.

“Such a good girl. I know you can, come on.”

Bucky gently flipped your body over, laying you on your stomach. He kissed down your spine, whispering sweet and kind things to you. You can’t even register what he’s saying because his godly erection is poking your ass and you're practically aching again to be railed by him.

“So eager for my cock, aren’t ya? Already being such a greedy little whore.”

“Please, Bucky,” you begged, wiggling your ass against his crotch.

“Don’t worry, baby. I’m gonna fuck you so good; gonna ruin you for anyone else,” he whispered in your ear before biting on your earlobe.

He stood tall on his knees behind you gripping your hips, roughly pulling them flush against his pelvis; you pushed yourself up on your hands. He grabbed his aching cock, the tip red and leaking with precum. Bucky doesn’t even know how he was able to last so long without cumming but he did and now all he wants to do is cum deep inside you.

“Ready, pretty girl?” he teased, rubbing your cheeks softly with his hands.

“Fuck me good, James,” you moaned.

Bucky lined his dick with your entrance slowly pushing the tip past your folds. The burning sensation caused you to hiss and tense around Bucky, who instantly stopped his movements.

“No, it’s ok; you’re just bigger than I was anticipating,” you fussed.

“It’s ok. If it’s too much you tell me to stop,” Bucky told you.

“No, don’t stop, please!” you whined.

“Don’t get greedy,” Bucky warned.

“Think you can handle all of me?”

“Fuck,” you muttered.

He pushed his hips further in you slowly, careful to not hurt you. His hands ran slowly up your body before curling his fingers through your hair and pulling your head up. Once he bottomed out, he rested for a minute until you were ready for him to move.

“Holy fucking hell, baby. Feel so good wrapped around my cock, shit,” Bucky groaned above you.

“I feel so- full.”

“‘S like you were made for me, pretty girl.”

Bucky’s hips began to move faster and faster pulling moans from you that was music to his ears. Bucky relished in your sex. He used every ounce of willpower in him to keep control but you felt so heavenly, so sublime. He couldn’t hold back any longer. You could tell that Bucky was holding back and you didn’t want him to. He pleasured you twice already, it was his turn to feel good and if letting go would do that for him you would let him.

“Come on, Bucky. Fuckin’ ruin me!”

“Don’t say shit like that,” he grunted, still thrusting his hips.

“I can take it, baby. Use me,” you told him.

Bucky’s hips stilled only for a second before you felt a sharp stinging on your right ass cheek.

“You want me to fuck you like a whore? Fine, I will,” Bucky growled before pulling out and flipping you over.

Bucky rammed his hips into you fast and rough. His hand went to wrap around your throat squeezing the sides and your eyes rolled back. Tears brimmed your eyes and you cried out over and over again. You felt used, corrupted, violated. You love it.

“Fuck, yes!”

“Shit, I’m gonna fucking come,” Bucky groaned.

Bucky released your throat before dipping his head in the crook of your neck. His groans and moans were muffled by your skin. Your hands wrapped around his neck and your legs too wrapped around his torso pulling his body flushed against yours. Your nails ran down Bucky’s back; he breathed in sharply through gritted teeth before moaning loudly in your ear from the pleasurable sting.

Chasing his release along with yours, Bucky’s thrusts became relentless. Animalistic. Feral, even. Everything felt overwhelming. It didn’t take much longer until you felt Bucky’s stuttering thrusts and the spurts of warm cum coating your velvety walls. Bucky completely relaxed on top of you, his breath heavily hitting your sweaty skin. You scratched his back softly coming down from your own high breathing equally as heavily.

“You feeling ok, pretty girl?” Bucky asked quietly.

“Yeah,” you whispered with a stupid grin on your face.

“You did amazing, you know?” Bucky kissed you softly; your stomach fluttering at the action.

“What now?” you couldn’t help but ask.

“Now, I’m going to take care of you,” Bucky said, hopping off you and the bed.

You laid there breathing slowly now. You didn’t have the energy to move at this point. Your inner thighs burned deliciously and the soreness began to be more apparent all over your body. Bucky came back with a warm towel and bottle of water from the kitchen. He cleaned you up with the towel and you could help the soft moans and whimpers that escaped from you. Once you were cleaned, Bucky helped you sit up and held the now open water bottle for you to hydrate yourself. You couldn’t shake the butterflies and chills you got from Bucky’s stare. He couldn’t take his eyes off you anymore; like you hung the moon and stars for him.

“What?” you asked shyly.

“Nothing,” he grinned.

“Come on. You’ve gotta go pee,” he said carrying you in his arms towards his bathroom.

“No, I just want to go to sleep already,” you whined, voice muffled in the crook of his neck.

Bucky sat on you on the toilet and waited for you to… do your business. You just sat there squirming, and shaking from the cold that hit your body.

“Come on. You have to,” Bucky explained.

“I know, but I can’t pee in front of you. I’m shy,” you mumbled.

“Seriously, I just fucked-”

“Bucky, please,” you cut him off.

“Oh alright. Come back to bed when you’re finished, pretty girl,” Bucky said before leaving you.

You couldn’t shake the smile off your face. He was being so caring and nice to you, it warmed your heart. You felt a bit of heartbreak however wondering if this was just a one time thing. You cleaned yourself again and washed your hands before snatching one of Bucky's t-shirts that laid on the floor. When you came out Bucky was fiddling with his camera that was still set-up and your heart dropped.

Had he recorded the whole thing?

“I was gonna delete all the footage, but in all honesty you look so fucking sexy. Might keep it for myself,” he said winking.

“You recorded the whole thing without telling me?” you asked, tearing up.

“I didn’t mean to. I’m not gonna post it anywhere. You sorta screamed my name a few times so footage ain’t good anyway,” he said, making you scoff and roll your eyes.

“Hey, hey. I’m kidding. I’ll delete all of it, I promise,” he cupped your face.

“Come here; I gotta do one more thing for you,” he said, laying you down on the bed once again.

“What are you doing?” Bucky grabbed another towel and some scented lotion placing it on his bedside table.

“I’m gonna give you a massage. You’ll be less sore tomorrow morning. I’ll admit I was a bit rough,” he said, kissing your belly as he lifted his shirt off your body.

“You do this to all the girls you sleep with?” you teased, not really wanting an answer but you’ll play a part if it keeps from being humiliated because of feelings.

“Only the pretty girls,” he says, fully referencing his nickname he gave you a while ago.

“And how many pretty girls might you have?”

“There’s only one,” he whispered; his hands massaging along your back slowly, sensually.

“She must be really lucky,” you whispered too, afraid of speaking too loud.

“If anything, I’d say I’m the lucky one.”

“You think?”

“Yeah, she’s… she’s perfect. Beautiful. Smart. I could go on about her.”

“She sounds like a prude,” you joked.

“She was,” he chuckled.

“But trust me, now she’s a real feisty and sexy woman,” Bucky said before biting down hard on one of your ass cheeks.

“Ow! Bucky!” you squealed, making Bucky laugh.

Bucky tossed the towel away and placed the lotion back on the bedside table before grabbing the blankets and crawling under them with you. He held you close, entangling his legs with yours, wrapping his arms around you tightly.

“You mean all that?” you asked barely audibly.

“Yeah. I do, pretty girl.”

“You don’t have to delete the video,” you smirked, making Bucky laugh out loud.

He kissed your forehead snuggling closer to you, letting peaceful sleep envelop you both.

=============================

ᴛᴀɢʟɪsᴛ: (For all my work)

@mathletemadison

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@fleurlovesbucky

@povsmarvel0720

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Bucky Barnes Taglist:

@stolenxkissess

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#bucky barnes #bucky barns fanfiction #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes fluff #bucky barnes smut #bucky barnes au #camboy!bucky barnes #roommate!bucky

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kenmei · 3 years

Text

-ˏˋ EVERYTHING BUT! ˊˎ-

♡ gn!reader x boyfriend!sakusa kiyoomi

cw: angst to fluff, hurt/comfort, slice of life, a pinch? of toxic behaviour, kinda suggestive somewhere in the middle, timeskip!au, established relationship!au

synopsis: in the times where home doesn’t feel like how it should, somewhere along the blurred lines of forgiven and guilty, “i’m home” gains back its familiarity

wc: 1900+

notes from mei!

happy bday to omi omi!!

it’s routine.

“i’m home.”

words that are familiar leave his lips; an expected response lingers in the air—it’s routine. the problem is, he’s only met with silence and an unusually cold apartment complex.

there are leftovers on the island; down the hallway leading to yours and his shared room, the lights are off. kiyoomi sighs, shrugging off his coat and not bothering to keep the sound of his dangling keys to a minimum.

and for the fifth time that week, he eats dinner alone.

the next morning proceeds as usual. quiet good mornings, a kiss to the cheek that feels robotic. he makes the food and you make the coffee; working in tandem as the news fills the silence between you both.

“i’m going out today.” you say, spoon clanking against the mugs as you’re pouring in the creamer. “hairi’s birthday.” you add.

he doesn’t turn to face you. “okay.”

you both eat in silence, not bothering to make small talk because the last time you tried, it ended up in a fight that brings you to your situation right now.

the night after, you both “made up,” but after a day and a half passed, he snapped at you more harshly than usual, giving you the silent treatment and coming home extra late just to get on your nerves.

tired of being a verbal punching bag, you reverted back into the person you promised you wouldn’t be again, because you wanted to be better—because you trusted in him enough that he wouldn’t make you feel that kind of pain again.

but now you’re here.

the words scratch at your throat as you open the front door. it’s dark, but you hear the shower running.

you’re not sure why you suddenly feel so anxious, but then again, you dreaded the entire uber ride “home.”

because as much as you love kiyoomi, he’s dragged you to hell and back for the past week and a half. as much as you’re willing to put up with his bullshit because you know he’s just like that, you’re not sure if this relationship is even worth it anymore.

it’s because you know his bad sides, good sides, everything-in-between-sides, you can’t find it in you to say something other than a half-assed sorry because you don’t want to drag things out.

you don’t want to lose him because he’s still your kiyoomi.

he’s the boy who shared his umbrella with you in high school, the boy who threw his jacket on your head because you never listened to him when he said it’s cold out, wear a jacket.

the man who makes you play with his hair; the one who likes to be babied from time to time. don’t leave, he used to say, arms trapping you to his chest as you both wasted an hour in each other’s embrace.

in every season, all your favourite memories involve him.

and you’re being honest when you say you don’t want anything else—anyone else, but him. he’s a part of you now, and after him, you never thought of life without him.

but as you sit on the couch, head hung low, you think, perhaps, life would be better.

you fell in love rather young, at seventeen where love was like sunshine and rainbows. seventeen, where you didn’t know any other romantic kind of love besides him.

but now you’re twenty-three, where love feels more or less of a shitty scripted tv show. twenty-three, where you know there are many different kinds of love besides romantic.

“what are you doing?”

like you’ve been programmed, you stand. “sorry. i was waiting for you to finish.”

you brisk by him, blindly picking some clothes to use for pyjamas.

and he lets you, waiting for you to finish.

as you’re settling into bed, his lips find yours in a teeth-clashing, empty manner. naturally, you return, unaware of the void in your eyes as you humour him.

hands find their way underneath your shirt and you tense up.

he pulls away. “what’s wrong with you?”

“what do you mean?” you reply, pushing him off you. “...i’m kissing you back? why are you complaining?”

“you’re so bland lately.” he scowls, “you never say anything besides sorry! it’s like i’m dating a fucking statue!”

with the remnants of liquid courage swishing in your bloodstream, you snap, “what the fuck am i supposed to say besides sorry?!” you say, keeping a level-tone as you look at him in disbelief, anger bubbling in your veins. “you’re always mad at me and i’ve done nothing! you keep taking your bad days out on me!”

“that’s because you never do anything right!”

your mouth falls open in bewilderment. getting out of bed, you grab your phone. “fuck you.” you spit, “go find someone else. i’m not dealing with you anymore.”

a shout of your name, the sound of something falling to the floor.

the click of the front door doesn’t let you hear anything else.

kiyoomi<3: please come home

kiyoomi<3: where are you?

kiyoomi<3: talk to me baby please

“no.” you scoff, powering off your phone. you throw it to the other end of your hotel bed, grabbing your laptop.

two days.

(you wish it wasn’t like this).

glancing at the time, you think now would be a good time to go back to the apartment. he’s at practice and you need to start getting your shit out of his place.

your phone beeps a few more times and you wonder why he’s texting so much when he’s at practice. but then again, desperateness isn’t something to take lightly.

and you want to laugh at him, because now, when you’ve left, he’s texting you nonstop, leaving you a shit ton of voicemails you don’t even bother listening to.

your chest hurts, you’re sure everyone and their mother’s can tell you’re literally lifeless as you drag yourself to your car.

the drive is quiet and full of an empty head. you might’ve accidently ran one or two red lights, but you can’t find it in you to care.

jiggling your keys, you swing the door open, expecting to be met with emptiness.

but he’s there, on the couch with his head hung low, phone in his hands.

it looks like he’s pleading to the phone. you take note of his disheveled appearance and apartment. his head shoots up when he hears keys jingle, eyes widening before his eyes gloss over when he takes in your somewhat put together appearance.

you move to close the door, to leave him in there, but his voice stops you from shutting the door all the way.

“wait!”

it’s desperate and broken, you mentally smack yourself in the head for opening the door again. he relaxes a bit when he sees you again, mouth opening before it shuts abruptly.

he doesn’t know what to say.

and before he can get his head to work right, you turn left and go down the hallway, shoes on and all.

he follows, silently, watching in pain as you grab your duffle bag and start stuffing clothes in it.

he follows, chest pinching and palms sweating as you move around the room, shoving whatever you can into your bag.

you don’t even know why he’s here. he never misses practice.

“please.”

your back is facing him as the words, quiet and heavy, leave his lips. you choose to ignore him, rummaging through your bedside drawer in case there’s anything you might need.

a call of your name.

“stop.” you mutter, scratching your eyebrow in irritation. “we’re not doing this again.”

your lip trembles, you take a deep breath to try and stop the tears from falling.

it hurts to see him like this. your chest aches when you see the bags under his eyes and the tear stains on his cheeks. “we’re not doing this again.” you repeat, an attempt to solidify yourself, but instead, you’re sobbing quietly into your bedside drawer, a polaroid of you and him staring back at you.

“i can’t do this.” you cry, recalling his hurtful words.

frantically wiping your tears, you reach into the desk to flip the picture backward.

“i’m sorry, y/n.” he says, voice wavering.

it’s only been two days, but he feels like he’s been through a century. he thought he’d be fine, that you’d come back.

but after having his texts being left on delivered and his calls going straight to voicemail, the buildup of everything and the reality of everything punched him in the gut.

a home that was once full of love. a home that was once so easy to come home to.

it’s scary how fast everything went tumbling down.

and kiyoomi’s more than aware of how selfish he is. coming home to everything being in it’s exact place isn’t all that odd, he just loathes coming home to everything being in it’s exact place, but you’re not there.

your candle you love so much stares at him. pictures hung of you and him mock him.

everything in this apartment, it was there. everything but you.

and it drove him crazy.

you, the only one he’s ever felt so strongly for. you, the one who makes home feel like home.

but as he stares at your back, tears of his own getting caught in his lashes, he hates that he makes this “home” of yours and his, feel unfamiliar.

and kiyoomi isn’t good, he knows he isn’t. he’s selfish and he likes things done his way because he likes things done right.

but he doesn’t know how to make this right. he loves you so much, but all he can do now is watch as you suffer.

he knows his problem, he knows his shortcomings, his faults—kiyoomi’s had too much time to be fucked up by it all. but the only thing he doesn’t know how to do right, is to fix the problems before his eyes.

a second passes and he finds his body moving before he can think.

he pulls you into his chest, uncaring of your fists pounding against his chest. he holds you tighter because this could be the last time.

and kiyoomi wishes he could do it all over—to go back in time and be the person he promised himself he’d be for you, his supposed forever.

“i’m sorry.” he whispers into your hair. “i know you’re tired, but please let me apologize to you, i don’t want you to walk out that door thinking the things i’ve said to you are true. they aren’t, i swear.”

his arms tighten around you when you stop fighting against his embrace. “all those things i’ve said and done that hurt you, i didn’t mean.”

“i know that, kiyoomi.” you cry, “but i can’t do this anymore.”

“don’t say that.” he pleads, “please, y/n, let me try again.”

and you’re crying because it’s so raw and real. his voice is so gentle and his embrace feels so soothing.

this is all you want. to be in his arms and be held together by him.

he gets his response when your arms circle around his middle, when you bury your face into him and grant his wishes of letting him fix the mess he made of you and him.

“thank you.” he whispers, a choked sob breaking free and he pulls your impossibly closer.

it’s half-past two and everything is where it’s meant to be.

(i'm home).

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sakura-ame-no-ai · 3 years

Text

"bring a jacket next time."

pairings: tetsurou kuroo x reader

genre: fluff

notes: in japan, their way of checking the time is much different than america. they use 24-hour clocks. so if it was 1 in the afternoon, it would be counted as 13:00 for them.

a/n: it felt like some special holiday for me today and i don't know why... but seriously, how is my last kenma fanfic getting so much love istg- anyways, enjoy this fanfiction! i couldn't think of a good title for this on... :sob:

you sneeze suddenly when a gust of wind blows against your legs. it is indeed cold outside, but the shriveled leaves scraping their way down the street makes it seem much colder.

"why does it have to be so cold on a beautiful night like this..," you mutter to yourself, wrapping yourself with your arms.

too bad you didn't contemplate on bringing a jacket with you before bursting through the door with kuroo calling behind you.

well, now you feel a little guilty remembering that you lied to kuroo that you were going to buy some snacks at a nearby konbini. in reality, you just want to spend most of the night searching for some shooting stars.

you make a brief trip to the park, to which you find everything abandoned. that one big red slide that you always see children fighting to have their turn on is now empty and lonely. the swings seem motionless, too. however, they still rock back and forth every now and then when a chilly breeze rushes by. the seesaw is tilted down at an angle, making one side touch the ground full of woodchips.

you search for that favorite brown bench that has legs made out of an elegant black metal of some sort. soon, you discover it sitting under a big maple tree silently. it faces a metal fence that is as high as your waist, which a beautiful view of a huge lake stretches out on the other side of that fence. you don't hesitate to plop down and make yourself comfy on the bench, admiring the wavy reflection of the glittering stars and moon on the water's surface.

you could stare at such a view all day...

well, you would if you had brought a jacket though.

the cold night air wraps around you, trying to embrace you in a friendly way, but all it does is make you shiver and lift your feet onto the bench. you hug your knees and bury your mouth and nose inside your arms and knees, cursing to yourself about why you were stupid enough to not bring some warm clothing before setting out.

"just like i thought," a voice that sounds very familiar booms out from behind you, making you flinch.

you turn your head around to see a bedhair walk up to you with a cheeky grin.

"tetsu?!" you squeal, a little shocked that he actually know exactly where you were. "how did you know i'm here?"

kuroo is bundled up in a scarf and his nekoma jacket. he also has a thick piece of folded cloth draped over his right arm, making you assume that it's probably a blanket.

"i've never seen you that eager to do some shopping at the konbini, kitten," he replies, taking a seat next to you.

"you've always been a fan of sceneries outside, so that gave me an idea."

you give him a look of amazement, awed by the fact that he knows you very well like you're his child or something. however, it isn't long before kuroo bonks you on the head.

"you little rascal~ why didn't you bring a coat? it's like below 25 degrees celsius, and here you are, hanging out at the park, short-sleeved, and without a jacket or coat."

you whimper at his remarks.

"well, you know i was excited, tetsu..," you pout, puffing your cheeks out.

he chuckles, "nobody was blaming you, ok?"

kuroo takes a moment to peel off his nekoma jacket and place it over your shoulders. you gratefully hug it over your shoulders. other than the fact that it smells strongly of that lavender body soap you gave him, the jacket felt warm from kuroo's body heat, making you feel safe.

an unintentional smile slips onto your lips and you readjust your gaze to the sky.

"say... do you think there will be any shooting stars tonight?"

kuroo lifts a brow before fixing his gaze at the sky as well.

"oya? hunting for shooting stars?"

you nod eagerly, continuing to look up attentively.

"mhm! you told me that it's shooting star season!"

the branches of the maple tree above you sway gently, swishing its leaves together to create gentle rustling sounds.

kuroo smiles and points towards one of the stars.

"do you know how stars are formed, n/n?" he asks you, his finger directing your gaze towards the appointed star.

you squint to make a more intricate observation of the star while racking your brain, trying to remember your astrology lessons at school.

"well... don't stars form from accumulated gas and dust in space?" you finally conclude, remembering one fact your teacher has emphasized back then.

kuroo nods happily.

"yep. stars form when the gravity of the dust and air collapse together, which makes them heat up out of pressure."

he continues to ramble on about how stars mostly contain hydrogen and helium, the lightest elements to exist in the universe, and how stars are, in reality, exploding balls of gas.

you listen patiently as he explains. you are always interested in his nerdy science talk, as well as the way he is invested in his own world when a discussion related to a scientific topic arises.

it takes him a little bit to finish his explanation with a sneeze.

of course, he's not wearing his jacket. that's why.

you take off the jacket you were wearing and hand it to him.

"you're gonna catch a cold, so take your jacket back."

however, he pushes it back into your chest.

"no, kitten. you have it. i'm worried about you more."

you begin to pout, angry that he's always caring for your health instead of his own.

"no, kuroo," you say with an upset look. "this is not my jacket."

you two begin fighting about who should wear kuroo's jacket, exaggerating the possibilities of not wearing one and lecturing one another.

"that's it," kuroo sighs, looking troubled.

at first, you are confused by his words.

"what do you m-"

it was at this moment that kuroo covers the blanket that you forgot he had brought onto his back and then trapping you inside his arms, wrapping your body inside the blanket.

"there, now we're both warm," he smirks.

you take a while to understand the situation you're currently in before blushing madly. you look up at him, only to see that usual proud smirk on his face. he obviously did this on purpose.

"tetsu?! what the actual hell?!" you scream.

"oya? anything wrong?" he asks a little too 'innocently', pissing you off.

you growl back, "of course, you dumbass! people might see us and take this to like a million different wrong directions!"

"kitten, it's almost half-past 23:00. it's really unlikely that we'll be seen since most people are asleep."

you can't counter back, because that sly cat is right. most people are asleep at this time, so it's highly unlikely that you'd get caught like this with kuroo.

you have no idea how to react, so you decide to lean your back against kuroo, resting your head on his chest. at least, you realize that you feel much warmer than wearing his jacket. in the end, you start to relax, paying closer attention to the steady rise and fall of his chest while he breathes.

"do you ever see stars as memories when you look at them?" you ask kuroo, tilting your head upwards to meet his gaze.

"sometimes," he smiles, looks at one of the stars.

"like that one near that giant cloud reminds me of when i stole your meat from your lunchbox."

you cough.

"do you think this is a great time to bring this up??"

he only smirks at you. "you asked if i get reminded of anything when i look at a star."

you pout a little and fix your eyes to another star and point your finger towards it.

"well, this one reminds me of when yaku beat your ass for stealing meat from my lunchbox."

you two begin talking back and forth, saying which star represented which memory, laughing about the old days, and fighting about various things, like who should've gotten to eat that scrumptious piece of steak.

as you come back to argue about the lunchbox situation again, a white streak catches your eyes, snapping your attention back to the sky.

"look, tetsu! shooting stars!" you exclaim.

what kuroo turns his head to look at the sky with you.

sure enough, more streaks of white rain down like a slight drizzle.

"hurry up! make a wish!" you tell him before clasping your hands together before your face and close your eyes.

kuroo looks at you, then back at the sky. after a while, he closes his eyes and makes his wish.

i want to stay by y/n's side, even after i graduate.

however, he doesn't say it out loud. instead, he wraps his arms around your chest after you have finished making your wish.

for the first time in forever, kuroo gives you the most genuine smile that you've ever seen, which surprises you since you're so used to his cheeky smirks. it reminds you of honey and its sweet flavor.

"you know, kitty, we could do this next time," he coos in the sweetest voice you've ever heard him use.

"did you think i'd stop you?"

"ummmm..."

you look side-ways towards the tree beside you before give him your honest response.

"weeeeell, i thought you'd tell me it'd be too late into the night to do something like this and that i wouldn't be able to wake up if i stay up star-hunting."

kuroo chuckles, petting your head lightly with that big hand of his

"things like this are exceptions."

your eyes light up to his words. he has officially announced the permit to stay up searching for shooting stars that you adore a lot. it makes you very happy that you smile back warmly.

"thank you, tetsurou," you sigh, leaning into his chest comfortably.

"it's nothing, y/n."

he continues to stroke your hair in a soothing way as he maintains that genuine smile on his lips.

"just bring a jacket next time, or star-hunting will be off-limits."

155 notes · View notes

bbyheedeungie · 3 years

Text

So Damn Wrong | Ex-Boyfriend! Jake AU

Pairings: Jake x Reader ft. Na Jaemin

Genre: Heavy smut, angst

Warnings: oral sex in public place, unprotected sex, choking, cheating, toxic relationship

Synopsis: It's been months since you've broken up with Jake. Now dating Jaemin, Jake suddenly decides that he wants you back. And now, he's gonna make you his again one way or another.

"This is wrong Jake, we should stop." You say breathily, trying to stand up straight even though your legs begged to give in.

"You're right, so damn wrong." Jake says in between placing kisses on your chest.

"But why aren't you pushing me away, baby?"

Author's note: Ahh, my two favorite genres. Bye bye cinnamon roll Jake for now.

Three months. After ending things with Jake, you've managed to make it through three months of avoiding him at school, at the mall, and even in the neighborhood. You made sure not to run into him at the park, taking into consideration at what time and day he'd walk Lyala. Fortunately, it seems like he never made any attempt to reach out to you in those three months either. It was hell really. On the first week after the breakup, you did nothing but bawl your eyes out and eat sweets, refusing to go outside. He really broke you, cheated on you and made you feel unworthy of faithfulness. Every night, your insecurities ate you up, haunting you and asking you over and over what Jake saw in that other girl that you didn't have.

But storms never last forever, and one day you decided to just suck it all up. You were gonna be strong from now on. You're gonna be a whole new person, and you swore you'll never let anyone hurt you the same way again. And that's when you met Jaemin. Well, it wasn't really your first meeting, but it was your first time talking to him when the two of you were paired up for a school project. And one thing led to another, from simple late night conversations to making out inside his car on your third date, the two of you ended up together. And now, it's been 2 weeks since you've started dating Jaemin when you come face to face with Jake in the empty hallways for the first time in months.

"Y/N."

"Jake."

It was painful for Jake. Yep, it was all his fault. He had a choice and he chose to cheat on you with some insanely hot brunette. Only for him to realize what he lost when you've already walked out of his life. He really fucked up, and he hated himself everyday for it. But he chose not to chase after you, thinking you were better off without him.

But that didn't mean you were better off with someone else. When he heard the news, it felt like his whole world had stopped. As if his heart had come to a halt. It was too soon.

And then he saw yours and Jaemin's entwined hands as he walks you to your class, you give Jaemin a quick kiss on the cheek before waving good bye and Jake felt rage bubble up inside his chest. At that moment, he saw red. He wanted to punch something, to hurt something. Did he want to hurt Jaemin or did he want to hurt himself? He didn't know. It fucking hurt. To see someone else in his shoes. To see what could've been him treating you right. He couldn't take it, he couldn't accept that you've moved on and you've replaced him in your heart completely.

And now, here you are staring back at him. Your heart pounded so hard in your chest. You were on your way back to class from the infirmary because you accidentally pricked your finger while doing embroidery at home economics class. While Jake, he'd just exited the men's restroom. The two of you never really had your closure. You were too pained to talk to him back then. But seeing him now, you felt like you still weren't ready. Not because you still held a grudge, but because your heart still flutters at the sight of him.

"I should get back to class." You excuse yourself, breaking eye contact. But Jake wasn't gonna let you slip away, no. He grabs a hold of your wrist, pulling you inside the empty restroom and locking it instantly.

"Jake, what—" He pins you against the door, crashing his lips against yours as he traps you in between his arms that was placed on either side of your head. He kissed you feverishly, his hand coming down to hold you by the nape of your neck to deepen the kiss as his other hand squeezes on your hips. Desire pooled in between your legs and your mind was hazy, kissing him back with the same passion as you grip on his shoulders, trying to pull his body closer to yours. You were unable to think straight, unable to think rationally. A small voice in your head screamed to stop, but was quickly silenced as Jake hikes your skirt up, caressing your thigh as his lips found its way onto your neck.

"Ohh, Jake." You moaned as he found the sweet spot on your neck, biting and sucking knowing how it drives you crazy.

"You're gonna have to be quiet for me, princess." He whispers lowly on your ear as he unbuttons your blouse, fondling and squeezing your bra-cladded breast.

You let out a whimper as he pushes your bra down, freeing your erect nipples. He doesn't waste time as he puts it into his mouth, circling the sensitive areola with his tongue and sucking harshly, making you arch your back in pain and pleasure as you entangle your fingers in his hair. You were soaking wet at this point, your body burning with need.

"This is wrong Jake, we should stop." You say breathily, trying to stand up straight even though your legs begged to give in.

"You're right, so damn wrong." Jake says in between placing kisses on your chest. "But why aren't you pushing me away, baby?"

And you kept on asking yourself the same question. But your mind was too foggy to care. You needed release. You needed to be fucked. He leads you to the sinks, placing you on top so now he stood in between your legs.

"Please.." You begged him, guiding his hand to your crotch shamelessly. This small action made Jake's heart jump for joy, and his cock twitch in excitement. His cock was painfully hard now, but he can't fuck you yet.

"You dirty girl, look at you, begging to be fingered by me."

He pushes your soiled panties aside, letting his finger slide into your slippery cunt, letting your juices coat his fingertips as he rubs your clitoris. You bit your lip so hard, trying to supress the noises that your mouth threatened to release. He enters two fingers, fingering you in and out. The sound of your wet cunt drove him crazy, he wanted to eat you out so badly. He curls his fingers inside you, your eyes rolling to the back of your head as you felt yourself growing closer to your climax. But Jake knew you too well, he knew when you were about to come. The way your body flinches and your breathing speeds up, your pussy leaking of juices. But he just can't let you come, not yet. He stops, pulling his fingers out.

"No, please don't stop." You cried so desperately as you attempt to finish it yourself. But Jake stops your hand before it can even get close to your heat.

"Patience, baby girl." he plants a chaste kiss on your lips before pushing you down, your head rested on the wall and your legs spread for him even more. He eyes your messed up clothes and hair, appreciating how effortlessly gorgeous you could looked in any circumstance.

He draws his face closer to your cunt, grabbing hold of your thighs before digging in like a starved animal. He licked you good, working his tongue on your overly sensitive folds. He missed this, he missed your taste so much.

"Ah, Jake I'm so close. Don't stop." You moaned as you push his head closer to your pussy, his tongue digging deeper inside you as he lapped up your juices. He squeezed your thighs hard. And with one final flick of his tongue, you reach your high. In which he gratefully accept. Your whole body shooked with the intensity of your orgasm, but you weren't quite finished yet.

"Fuck- Fuck me Jake, please. Please I need you inside me, I want that cock fucking me hard." You begged, almost close to tears. You were so sexually aroused, nothing even mattered anymore. This time, Jake decided to give in to your request, his pants too unbearably tight.

He unbuckled his belt, pushing his pants down together with his boxers. His hard cock sprang free, his slit dripping with pre-cum. The sight made you lick your lips involuntarily. He positions himself on your entrance, pushing all the way in. You arch your back in pleasure as he repeats the action over and over, pulling himself almost out and then slamming all the way back into your pussy. He was fucking you so hard and fast as his hand comes to wrap around your neck, just the way you liked it.

"You're mine, Y/N. You'll aways be mine." He growls as he kept ramming his cock into you, slipping in and out so easily as your breasts bounced matching his pace. Only the sound of skin slapping and breathy moans and whimpers can be heard as you felt yourself getting closer to another orgasm.

"J-Jake.." Your voice was shaking as you called his name over and over.

"That's right, moan my name for everyone to hear. Fuck, I'm so close baby." Jake groaned breathily, thrusting his hips into you at full speed.

"Ohh Jake!" you cried as you hit your release with one final stroke, his warm load shoot inside you. He places his forehead against yours, breathing heavily as he savours his high.

"I still love you. Y/N."

But the bliss subsides soon enough, and reality hits you hard. Everything came crashing back, making you realize what you've just done. You cheated.

"No, we shouldn't have done this. This was a mistake." You say as you quickly fix yourself, or atleast try to look decent again. Jake clenched his fists, pain stung him as tears threatened to fall from his eyes.

"How could you say that, Y/N. You know you still love me too." He says, grabbing your shoulders. But the truth is, he's not reallly sure about it.

"No, Jake. I love Jaemin. I was wrong. So damn wrong. I cheated on him the way you cheated on me. That is so fucked up, Jake. He doesn't deserve this." You cried, pushing him away as you walked out the door. Jake was left standing there, with the numbing ache in his chest not going away anytime soon.

#enhypen angst #enhypen au #enhypen smut #kpop imagines #enhypen scenarios #enhypen ni ki #enhypen jake #enhypen sunghoon #enhypen heeseung #enhypen sunwoo #enhypen jungwon #enhypen jay #kpop angst #kpop smut #enhypen imagines #jake shim smut #enhypen jake smut #shim jaeyoon smut

517 notes · View notes

heyiwrotesomethings · 3 years

Text

How Not to Form a Thruple

Sayaka Igarashi x She/Her Reader x Kirari Momobami

A/N: Oh my god this took forever to do. There are just so many factors to consider when trying to make this work and I did not want this to turn into a novel and yet it's still sooo much. Anyway, much love to Sayaka and Kirari but they don’t know how their own relationship works without trying to date another person at the same time. Ririka is suffering, but at least she has Mary. Sorry if there are more errors than usual I had to deal with a cat menace. Also beware of Midari in this fic, you know how she is. And the OC I made isn’t very helpful either. Word Count: 18,395 (Why did I do this to myself?)

(Y/n) sighed and slouched in her seat at the back of the classroom, her eyes followed the form of Igarashi Sayaka taking her seat in the front of the room with her arms full of papers and folders. Her bag, looking just as heavy as the load in her arms, had the shoulder strap strained over the desk hook.

“Ugh, you really are hopeless, you know that?”

“Huh?” (Y/n) turned her head, meeting her friend’s eyes just in time to see them roll to the side.

“You’re looking at Igarashi with those dumb puppy eyes again. We’re well into our second year of high school now, shouldn’t you be over her by now? Or, here’s an idea, ask her out.” Tsubasa advised, pretending to be scandalized by their own suggestion.

“Don’t talk so loud!” (Y/n) hissed, quickly looking to see if anyone, especially Sayaka, had heard.

“The whole classroom is practically screaming about gambling and homework (Y/n), no one’s listening to us. Especially not Miss Workaholic over there. So, what’s the deal? When are you gonna finally make a move?”

“Are you crazy? There will be no move making from now until the end of time!” (Y/n) gestured wildly, emphasizing the word ‘now’ and the phrase, ‘the end of time’. “She obviously likes the president... and like is putting it mildly, there is no way I’m going to embarrass myself like that. I mean, when it comes to the president I can’t possibly compete. She’s too beautiful and suave, no wonder Igarashi wants to spend so much time with her.” (Y/n) sighed wistfully and slid further down her chair, openly sulking.

“Sounds to me like you’re simping double time these days, (Y/n).” Tsubasa snickered and kicked at (Y/n)’s foot with their own, producing a muffled groan from the girl who had since buried her head in her arms over her desk.

“You look at the girls in this school and tell me you can’t find easily like, ten of them that you’d immediately give your kidney to if they asked.” (Y/n) grumbled.

“Nah I’m good thanks, I’d like to keep my kidneys as a matched set if I can help it.” They leaned back in their chair and stretched. “Class is starting soon, better get your act together before you get called on and embarrass yourself in front of Igarashi.”

“God that would happen to me wouldn’t it?” (Y/n) sat up and opened her notebook for her first class, scanning the most recent notes with a critical eye.

“Hey, before you get too lost in that boring stuff I wanted to ask you if you heard about the gamble that’s taking over Yumemite’s stage during lunch.”

“I haven’t heard anything. What does Yumemite-san have to say about this? Didn’t she have a concert scheduled at that time?”

“You would know that wouldn’t you, simp.” Tsubasa laughed, poking (Y/n). “She’s sick or something so someone snatched up the stage for the day and they even got permission to broadcast to the whole school. Anyone can come by to gamble and the last person standing gets ten million yen!”

“What’s the catch? There always is one with these no admittance fee gambles.”

“Loser has to do one thing the winner asks each round. Something that can be done right then and there on camera to be broadcasted to the school. What do you think? Will you do it with me?” They grinned.

“Be humiliated in front of the whole school? No thanks, think I’ll pass.”

“Come on, don’t be like that. We could split the money fifty-fifty if one of us wins. What’s the worst request someone could demand of you if you lose?”

“Uh, have you been paying attention in this school?” (Y/n) looked up from her notebook, “A person having the power over you to make you do something for them is almost always worse then owing money. They could tell you to strip or rip your nails off— all sorts of crazy things!”

“I guess I could have been more clear. The winner just asks a question to the loser and they have to answer it honestly.”

��Wait, you’re telling me this is just going to be truth or dare without the dare?” (Y/n) looked at them incredulously. “I know I was complaining before but how is something so boring being broadcasted to the whole school?”

“Beats me, but really, the deal is a lot sweeter now, don’t you think, partner?” Tsubasa batted their eyelashes and (Y/n) lightly punched their shoulder.

“Alright, I’m in.”

***

“Never mind I’m not in!” (Y/n) trembled at the sight before her. The stage was filled with all sorts of creepy crawlies and dangerous looking animals in various enclosures. She made to leave but her friend grasped her arm and pulled her back.

“Too late to pull out (Y/n), I already signed us up!” They smiled brightly as if completely unaffected by the scene before them.

“Did you know about this?” (Y/n) asked, her throat tightening with equal parts anger and anxiety. “This isn’t truth or dare without the dare, it’s like, dare with a light suggestion of truth!”

“I know right? This is gonna be awesome!” Tsubasa grinned.

“Did Ikishima take over your body or something? What the hell is wrong with you!?” (Y/n) chastised through clenched teeth.

“Shhhh, I think the organizer is about to get things started. Don’t think about the risk, think about how awesome it’s gonna be when we win ten million yen! Five mil each!”

“If the more affluent students heard you getting excited over five million yen they would laugh you out of the school.” (Y/n) mumbled, rubbing at her temples to try to fight the oncoming headache she was starting to feel.

“Wow, a lot more of you showed up than I thought you would!” A voice called from the stage, crazy familiar laughter rolled over the auditorium.

“Ikishima actually organized this? Why am I not surprised?” (Y/n) sighed.

“Okay so a handful of you...” Ikishima scratched her head with her gun as she looked around the room. To (Y/n) surprise, the crazy girl suddenly fell to her knees with a cry of anguish. “Yumeko didn’t come? But I invited her directly! How could she stay away from such a gamble when I worked so hard to procure all this shit!” She moaned mournfully and motioned towards all the animal enclosures.

“Uh, so are we doing this thing or...?” Another student called out after watching Midari spread out on the stage floor and sulk for a hot minute.

“Yeah, yeah, just give me a second...” Midari sighed despondently. “Yumeko,” she began, looking to the ceiling, “I made this all for you, enjoy the show... I know you’re watching!”

(Yumeko was in fact, not watching.)

“Alright, listen up everybody!” Midari jumped back onto her feet, her gun tracing over every face in the front couple rows of the auditorium. “Ya ever hear of Fear Factor? Well that’s what we’re doing except not really. Basically, I’ll have you face off one v one. You each get to pick an animal you’d like your opponent to get all close and personal with, the first person to bail loses and if neither bails after five minutes, then the person with the highest heart rate loses. We’ll be monitoring your heart rates with these little wrist monitors to keep you honest. If your heart rate continually spikes higher than the other person, we’ll know and you’ll be out of the competition, not before you let out a truth of the victor’s choosing of course.” Midari smiled wickedly and gestured to the giant screen behind her. “Here is our bracket, let the games begin!”

(Y/n) scanned over the names and was jostled by Tsubasa slinging an arm over her shoulders.

“Look at that, (Y/n). We’re on opposite side of the bracket, I’m liking our odds!”

“Yeah, great.” (Y/n) whined and slowly made her way to the stage. Her name was right at the top of the bracket signaling she would be in the first match.

“Go (Y/n)!” Tsubasa cheered.

(Y/n) grimaced as Midari fixed the cold heart monitoring device to her wrist and another beautification officer hooked up her opponent who smirked once (Y/n) met his gaze.

“Coin flip decides who picks first. (L/n), heads or tails?” Ikishima asked, her breath sticking to (Y/n)’s cheek because of how close she was.

“Heads.” (Y/n) chose. Midari flipped the coin and revealed heads.

“Lucky you!” Midari cackled, “Choose carefully because once an animal is chosen, it will be retired for the remainder of the gamble!”

“I’ll pick the tarantula.” (Y/n) declared, suppressing a shudder. At least now she knew it wouldn’t be able to be used against her later.

“Ahh tarantula-san eyy?” Midari giggled. “I love it, nice choice! And you?” Midari turned to address the other student.

He appeared to be sweating ever so slightly but his smirk didn’t leave his face. “I’ll pick that huge ass snake.”

“Boa-san? Hell yeah!” Midari cackled, looking all too pleased with how this was going. “Handlers, bring out the chosen animals!”

“Hold your arms out, kind of like a cradle please.” The handler asked (Y/n). She had just nearly put her arms in position before the handler looped the middle of the large constrictor around her neck. The upper half of the large snake began coiling around her arm as (Y/n) struggled to hold the heavy reptile.

(Y/n) chanced a glance at her competition who appeared to be holding his breath as the tarantula crawled across his pant leg. He was sitting on the stage, something about lessening the risk to the spider should the boy freak out. (Y/n) gulped as her attention was brought back to the snake. It had raised its head to be level with her own and scented the air between their faces before slithering up and over her head and it began its descent down her back.

“Hey!” (Y/n)’s eyes darted back to the boy who looked noticeably more panicked. “It’s crawling toward my junk!” He screamed as the spider slowly made its way over his thigh.

“So?” Midari shrugged, “What, you gonna bail already? It hasn’t even been two minutes.”

“Get it off me now!” His voice pitched higher, the spider had momentarily lost its grip and slid closer to the boy’s crotch. “Take it, take it!”

“Alright, you big baby.” Midari waved him off signaling the handler to take the spider. “Round one goes to you, (L/n). Sazanka class, represent!”

(Y/n) released a relieved sigh as the weight of the boa was lifted from her shoulders. She massaged her shoulder and almost left the stage before Midari called her back.

“Hey, don’t forget your question!”

“Ah, right, sorry. Umm, what’s your favorite color?” (Y/n) could heard the faint echo of Tsubasa smacking their forehead with their hand in the darkened auditorium and Midari groaned.

“That’s what you’re asking? That’s so god damn boring!” Midari sprawled out on the floor again. “Well shit, answer (L/n)’s boring ass question I guess.”

“It’s green.” The guy breathed, thankful for the low stakes question after his embarrassing screeching over the tarantula.

“Alright, who’s next?”

***

The final round was finally here. (Y/n) had survived a hand full of banana slugs and holding up a adolescent fox bat by its feet before finally making it to the last round with Tsubasa bouncing excitedly as her final opponent. They had made it, no matter what happens now the ten million was as good as theirs.

“Alright! Here we are with the last match! Only a handful of creatures left, what will be used I wonder...” Midari pondered. “Heads or tails, (L/n)?”

“I’ll go heads again.”

The coin flipped in her favor once more and she smiled at her friend. “I know you’ve been eyeing that iguana over there, go make a new friend.”

“I really appreciate that, (Y/n).” Tsubasa simpered. “However,” the sweet smile turned sinister, “Just because we made it to the end, doesn’t mean I’m going to go easy on you.”

(Y/n)’s eyes darkened at the betrayal, her mouth twitched into a frown aimed at her unbothered so called friend. Sweat gathered at her brow. Were they going to pick the literal grizzly bear over there? Or maybe even worse, the—

“I pick the octopus.”

“No way!” (Y/n) gasped.

“Uehehehe, I see you recognize the coloration of octopus-san, don’t you (L/n)?” Midari leered over the other girl.

“Yeah, that’s a blue ringed octopus isn’t it? Those things can kill you and you expect me to hold it?” (Y/n) threw her arms out wide in disbelief.

“I had it brought here for Yumeko, but I’m glad someone is going to play with octopus-san.” Ikishima practically moaned. “Well, (L/n) are you gonna hold it or bail?”

“Of course I-“

“(Y/n), before you answer that question,” Tsubasa whispered, “You should know I’m planning on asking a really good question should I win. You know, related to who we were talking about this morning.”

“You wouldn’t-“ (Y/n) gasped.

“Try me.”

“I give you the iguana and this is how you repay me! I could literally die!” (Y/n)’s heart was absolutely pounding. Hurt and betrayal plain on her features.

“Listen, I don’t know what the hell you guys are going on about, but we are broadcasting live to the school and you have a decision to make. (L/n), whatcha gonna do?” Midari pushed.

“I...” (Y/n) took a deep, shuddering breath, her gaze drifted to the deadly cephalopod. Her eyes closed tightly as she tried to quiet the wild thrumming of her heart in her ears. This was dangerous and stupid, but she’d sooner die than lose and answer that query truthfully. “I’ll do it.”

“For real (Y/n)? Are you crazy-“

“I love what you’re doing here (L/n)!” Ikishima interrupted (Y/n)’s gambling partner with a wheezy laugh. “If I didn’t already have the hots for Yumeko, I’d jump your bones right now!”

(Y/n) grimaced at the vulgar girl and made her way to the octopus’ enclosure, the vivid blue rings hypnotic in the shallow waters of the tank.

The octopus itself was small, no bigger than the palm of her hand, yet she knew that size would hardly matter, it could still easily kill a grown man twice her size.

(y/n) breathed in deeply and pulled up her sleeve, her hand just barely skimmed the water when her supposed friend spoke up.

“(Y/n) you don’t have to do this. You seriously would rather die than talk about your feelings?”

(Y/n)’s steely gaze met her partner who was nervously stroking the iguana in their arms and her frown deepened.

“Use my half of the ten million to pay for my medical bills and or my funeral.” She spoke coldly, carefully sliding her hand all the way into the tank. She would have just plunged her hand right in, but she really didn’t feel like dying today if she could help it. Please god, give me the luck of that one idiot I saw holding one of these things on social media.

Slowly, she nudged the creature into her hand and raised it up a bit so Ikishima could clearly see her dangerous skinship with the octopus. The one-eyed girl let out a delighted squeal but (Y/n) could not hear it over the pounding of her own heart. The tentacles of the venomous creature curled over her hand as if searching, maybe for the best place to bite (Y/n) thought wryly. It began crawling up her wrist and settled on her forearm. (Y/n) felt faint and she could feel the sweat roll off her in buckets, having the octopus sit still was almost worse than it moving.

“How’s it feel, (Y/n)? I can call you (Y/n) now, right? We’re kindred spirits you and I after all. How does it feel knowing you’re one little bite away from almost certain death? It’s great isn’t it?” Ikishima moaned grossly in (Y/n)’s ear and (Y/n) grit her teeth, her jaw tightened painfully. She did not dare pay attention to Ikishima, her eyes belonged only to the small mass now writhing in the crook of her elbow.

A loud buzz shot (Y/n) out of her concentrated state, causing her to move suddenly and offset the balance of the octopus. (Y/n) yelped in response to the octopus’ renewed hold over her that was much tighter than before. Did it just bite me?

“Five minutes is up! Guess we have to refer to heart monitors for the winner. Though judging by (Y/n)’s face, her heart rate will probably be nonexistent soon!” Midari laughed and motioned to the big screen. The computer scanned over the last two competitors heart rates over the last five minutes and compared the data. It was quickly determined that (Y/n)‘s heart rate was much higher than her opponent’s, making her the loser of this gamble.

(Y/n) closed her eyes and hung her head in shame, if the octopus did bite her, she didn’t have it in her to care. Her life would be over soon anyway once she answered the victor’s question.

“Wait a minute... what the hell is wrong with octopus-san?” Midari screeched, bringing (Y/n) back into the moment.

(Y/n)’s eyes shot open to look at the octopus and she was surprised to see it had changed color to match that of her skin tone.

“But, blue ringed octopuses don’t change color so dramatically as this? What... this isn’t...” (Y/n) could hardly believe it. The small octopus on her arm wasn’t the deadly Australian native, but a mimic, and a talented one at that.

“Hey you! What the fuck is this!” Ikishima berated the nearest handler, gesturing to the tank with her gun.

“A mimic octopus, ma’am. This little baby has a tank adjacent to a real blue ringed octopus and the clever boy just loves to copy the colors. Intelligent little guy, isn’t he?”

“Well, yeah,” Midari huffed, “but I asked for blue ringed octopus-san!”

“We didn’t want anyone to be hurt. We figured you wouldn’t mind as long as you got an octopus.” The handler smiled tightly. God these rich kids are crazy.

(Y/n) managed to free herself from the mimic and withdraw from the tank. She rubbed her arm and watched the small octopus change color again to match the the sand in its tank. She felt so foolish, all her fear had been misplaced and now- she turned to Tsubasa, now iguanaless, and stepped forward.

“Well that was hella disappointing. What’s-your-face gets to ask their question now.” Midari sighed, clearly disinterested. “If I wasn’t so impulsive and hadn’t put this thing together last minute, I would’ve made much better punishments for the losers.”

“(Y/n), please don’t let this ruin our friendship. I only want what is best for you.” Tsubasa rubbed the back of their neck awkwardly.

“If you didn’t want to do that, you’d pick another damn question. Just ask already.” (Y/n) snapped.

“Who have you had a crush on since middle school who you still like to this day?” They asked almost sympathetically. (Y/n) wanted to slap that awkward smile right off their face.

“Igarashi Sayaka.” (Y/n) answered clearly so as to not have to repeat herself before bolting off the stage, Midari cackling behind her.

“You like that stick in the mud? That’s hilarious!” Midari wheezed from the stage as (Y/n) pushed through auditorium doors with a boom and kept running.

***

(Y/n) should have just skipped school. She was basically doing it anyway since she couldn’t go to class. Not when she was actively avoiding three people in said class. Tsubasa she didn’t want to see for obvious backstabbing reasons, Ikishima because she was being... extra herself towards (Y/n) since the gamble and she didn’t appreciate it, and then of course Sayaka... who knew if she was aware of the gamble or what she’d do if she saw (Y/n). She’d probably tase me, (Y/n) thought glumly.

The last few days (Y/n) had exiled herself to the deepest, darkest depths of the library and didn’t leave until most of the students had gone home for the day. She didn’t need to worry about gambling. Despite not talking to Tsubasa, she saw that her five million that was agreed upon was transferred to her account with an, ‘I’m sorry :( <3‘ attached to it so she was set for awhile in the class rankings.

This day should have been no different as she made her way to the back of the library, but she gasped audibly once she took in the figure perched atop her table seemingly awaiting her arrival. She would have backed away if not for the fact that those icy blue eyes commanded her to stay.

“President!” (Y/n) squeaked. This was it, she was so dead. How foolish of her to think she would be able to get away with admitting her feelings for the secretary of the most powerful person in the school without any repercussions.

The president did not yet speak, but motioned (Y/n) to come closer, the way her glacial eyes bore into (Y/n)’s left no room for argument. (Y/n)’s legs moved slowly, they shook noticeably and she feared she might collapse right in front of the president. Finally she stopped and stood a foot away from the president’s regal pose over the table. (Y/n)’s hands wrung together and she scanned the titles of the nearby bookshelves so she would not have to look her intruder in the eye.

“You’re a surprisingly difficult person to find, (L/n) (Y/n).” Kirari finally spoke, examining her pristine, blue fingernails.

“I,” (Y/n) cleared her throat, “I’m sorry?” Her voice trembled, sounding oh so weak in the presence of the apex predator.

“That was quite the show you put on a couple days ago at Ikishima’s event.” Kirari continued, seemingly oblivious of (Y/n) speaking at all. “You turned that drab, mind numbing dullness into something I could tolerate watching with my afternoon tea. Sayaka seemed quite invested as well.” She said, her eyes casually looking up to catch (Y/n)’s again, gauging for a reaction.

(Y/n) didn’t speak for fear of her heart escaping out of the orifice due to how violently it was beating in her chest, in her throat. It was beating so fast it put the whole octopus incident to shame.

“Of course, the novelty of the octopus was shattered as soon as its true nature was revealed, but it was interesting to watch in the moment, sort of like a magic trick, wouldn’t you agree?”

(Y/n) stayed silent, only managing to tear her eyes away from the analyzing blue ones to study her own shoes.

“Sayaka couldn’t believe you would do something so, how did she put it? Irrational? Insane maybe? It escapes me now, but she was muttering to herself in that endearing way she always does when she’s thinking too hard and she just can’t contain her internal monologue.” Kirari’s smile grew a small fraction wider at the memory. “I didn’t see what the problem was. If anything I’d dare say she was being quite hypocritical, given the fact that she had jumped out of a five story building with me not too long ago.”

(Y/n) allowed a look of astonishment to take over her face and Kirari chuckled quietly.

The student council president slid off of the table and approached (Y/n) with confident, purposeful steps, causing (Y/n) to back away until her back hit the bookshelf behind her. Kirari rested an arm on the shelf beside (Y/n)’s head and leaned so far into her personal space that (Y/n) dared not breathe.

“Maybe you would like to give it a try?”

(Y/n)’s lips trembled, still unable to so much as make a sound. Her eyes were trapped by the icy, oceanic gaze mere inches away from her.

“No need to be so tense, it was just a suggestion. I know you are capable of speaking. What must I do to make this a two way conversation?”

“I-“ (Y/n) attempted to clear her throat, taking in a shaky breath, “I- what do you want me to say, president? Why are you here?”

“You’ve caught my interest.” She stated plainly, “To risk your life all to avoid answering a simple question of little consequence. Tell me, are you embarrassed to like my secretary so much? Do you find such feelings disgraceful, or is it because it’s Sayaka?”

“No! No. That’s not it at all, I just- I’m not embarrassed about how I feel. Igarashi-san is amazing. So incredibly dedicated and hardworking, intelligent, pr- pretty,” (Y/n) blushed, “I could never find anything disgraceful about liking someone like her.”

“Why hide it to such a degree, then? Why risk your life to keep it hidden?” Kirari came closer still, drinking in every micro-expression that (Y/n)’s face would betray for clues about the peculiar behavior she was so fascinated by.

“There was just no point in revealing my feelings. They obviously aren’t reciprocated, I didn’t want to make class awkward or ruin the good terms we were on as classmates. If I was to be embarrassed about anything, it would be the idea of receiving a rejection that I was well aware would occur and was trying to avoid.”

“I’d like to propose a gamble.” Kirari said suddenly, (Y/n) could feel the declaration disturb the air around her face, causing a slight tingling sensation that made her lips purse subtly.

“What do you propose, president?” (Y/n) whispered weakly, her back digging almost painfully I to the bookcase, trying fruitlessly to create a semblance of personal space between them. She surprisingly took in the sudden declaration without question, probably due to how small she felt in Kirari’s presence. She dared not question the president’s seemingly sudden whim.

“A simple game, really. I don’t have time to plan some grand operation unfortunately. Such things are better planned out over the course of several weeks, months or even years. Something Ikishima will likely never learn even after her hastily put together show,” Kirari spoke, digging at the disorganization of the beautification officer while still looming over (Y/n) like it was perfectly acceptable to be so close, “but that’s neither here nor there, the game will be lightning round old maid.”

“What are the stakes?” (Y/n) asked, a hot cold rush ran down her spine as Kirari absently inspected a lock of (Y/n)‘s hair, twining a finger though it before letting the hair slip from her touch. She backed away, finally giving (Y/n) room to breathe.

“If I win, you’ll immediately start going back to your classes and you’ll become a page of sorts to the student council. You’ll be at Sayaka’s beck and call.”

“I don’t think Igarashi-san would care for that. I’m sure she has a very specific way in which she likes things done. I don’t want to be on her bad side more than I probably already am!”

“Sayaka would never say it, but with the added work the election has brought, I’m sure she could find a use for an extra pair of hands.” Kirari smirked, “Now, what would you like if you win?”

“...I guess it would be nice to have some assistance transferring schools?” (Y/n) mumbled after a moment’s thought.

“How practical. You’re about as imaginative as Sayaka I’ll give you that,” Kirari commented, striding to the other side of the table to sit with practiced poise, “well,” she gestured to the chair opposite her, “please take a seat. This won’t take long.”

(Y/n) bit the inside of her lip and sat stiffly in the presented chair. She couldn’t believe she was about to gamble with the president. Such an ‘honor’ was usually reserved for people like Jabami or Ikishima... What did this say about herself, (Y/n) wondered.

Kirari slipped three cards out of her blazer. The queen of diamonds, the queen of hearts, and a joker card. She presented the cards to (Y/n), allowing her to check for any possible tampering. When (Y/n) was satisfied, she gave the cards back with a sight tremor. Kirari reached past the cards, encompassing (Y/n)’s wrist with her hand and drawing out a surprised gasp from the girl. Kirari skimmed her fingers over the exposed skin up to (Y/n)’s own finger tips before finally taking the cards back and shuffling them under the table. All the while (Y/n)’s hand tingled, still suspended mid air until she remembered herself and quickly pulled her hand back to join her other tightly fisted in her lap.

Kirari eyed the cards, newly shuffled, and slid the queen of hearts to (Y/n)’s side of the table. With a reserved smile, she held out the remaining two cards. “Now, which one will you choose I wonder?”

(Y/n) scrutinized the backs of the cards in Kirari’s hand, silently cursing herself for not thinking of marking the cards in some way as she inspected them. Her eyebrows knit and her eyes narrowed in concentration as if that would help give her some sudden clarity, to open up the right choice.

“As much as I’m enjoying this intense look of concentration you are wearing, I do have other obligations that require my attention this afternoon.” Kirari spoke, jolting (Y/n) from her thoughts.

“Sorry!” (Y/n) swallowed and eyed the cards, darting her attention from one to the other at least a dozen times. Finally she sucked in a huge breath and reached for the the one on the right. Then, changing her trajectory at the very last second, she took the card on the left, missing the excited gleam in Kirari’s eyes.

With trembling fingers she flipped the card in her fingers and felt dread as the laughing face of the joker stared back at her.

“Wrong choice I’m afraid, looks like I’ll get a turn after all.” Kirari said.

(Y/n) took her queen and the joker, mixing them under the table until she was satisfied then held them out to Kirari, trying to will her face into impenetrable stone.

Kirari chuckled quietly as she reached out. She teasingly danced her fingers over the cards, gauging for a reaction. (Y/n) looked away from the scene, trying to invoke some kind of ‘I can’t see you, you can’t see me’ strategy. However, (Y/n) felt that she could have no face at all and Kirari would still be able to read her.

Her eyes shot open when she felt the card in her right hand being tugged free, she turned back to the remaining card with an audible gasp. The queen was still in her hand.

“Oh well,” Kirari smiled, “Another chance for you then, (Y/n).”

(Y/n) nodded resolutely, looking between the two cards once more. She took less time to deliberate this go around and took the left card. Incorrect again.

The joker traded hands at least three dozen more times and traded hands quickly. Staying in one hand only long enough to be shuffled and presented to be taken half a second later. (Y/n) found it exhilarating. There was no strategy, no second guessing, just the gamble itself. Taking whatever card they touched first without a care.

The joker had found (Y/n)’s hand again and (Y/n) couldn’t help the laugh of disbelief that escaped her lips. Her nervous frown had left rounds ago, replaced by a content smile. If Tsubasa could she her now, smiling and playing a children’s game with arguably the most frightening person in the school, they would lose their mind.

“I’m glad you’ve come out of your shell and are enjoying yourself,” Kirari spoke up, her eyes looking unusually warm. “However the time is quickly approaching for one of my aforementioned engagements so,” (Y/n) blinked owlishly, her mouth falling open ever so slightly. Kirari took the queen out of (Y/n)’s hand as if she knew she could have done so at will at any time and smirked. “I’ll be seeing you bright and early Monday morning to discuss your new duties.”

As Kirari stood and moved around the table to exit (Y/n) kept blinking at the joker in her hands. “Oh, and (Y/n),” Kirari stopped at the bookshelf momentarily and looked back at (Y/n), seeing the surprised girl turning slowly in her seat to look at her. “Do not be late.”

With that, the president took her leave. (Y/n) looked back at the joker and smiled brightly despite herself. She knew once the novelty wore off she was going to be an anxious mess before Monday arrived, but for now, she was ride out the high gambling with the president gave her. She gathered her belongings and left the library and the school, humming pleasantly with a skip in her step all the way home.

***

(Y/n) hadn’t slept more than a combined total of eight hours all weekend. She had worried her weekend away to the point of feeling physically ill. What had she been thinking to entertain such a gamble? Not only did she need to start going back to class, but now she had to report in to the student council as if she were a member herself.

(Y/n) glanced at her phone again, squinting her eyes at the harsh light, a panicked groan leaving her as she read the time. It was five-thirty in the morning. She had more than enough time to get ready and be at school before the student council meeting began at seven, but the anticipation was killing her.

She was not ready to see Sayaka. She wasn’t ready to sit next to Tsubasa in class again or get hounded by Ikishima. Today was going to be an all out assault on her emotional state.

(Y/n) stood outside the imposing doors of the student council room, the time on her phone displaying that she was fifteen minutes early. (Y/n) worked to control her breathing, willing herself to take deep, even breaths. Before she worked up the courage to enter, the door swung open with air displacing force strong enough to whip some of (Y/n)’s hair askew.

“I’ll retrieve the file president! You needn’t concern yourself with such menial tasks!” Sayaka strode a purposeful half step out of the room and rammed straight into (Y/n)’s chest, causing (Y/n) to stumble back, but not fall.

“What are you- oh,” Sayaka’s angry retort died on her lips as she registered who stood before her. “(L/n)-san, what are you doing here?”

“Oh, good- good morning, Igarashi-san. I’m, um, I’m here to-“ (Y/n) stumbled over her words looking over Sayaka’s head, unable to even look her in the eye as she felt her cheeks grow increasingly warm.

“Ah, (Y/n), right on time. Early even.” Kirari appeared in the doorway behind Sayaka who looked back at her with a bewildered expression. “Ready for your first day on the job?”

“President! What are you saying? What is the meaning of this?” Sayaka asked, looking between Kirari and (Y/n) as if to try to draw her own conclusion.

“Sayaka, (Y/n) is going to be your errand girl from now on. Sort of a secretary of a secretary situation.” Kirari explained with an amused grin. “I feel like your work efficiency would be maximized if you didn’t have to run all over the school.”

“But president, I can’t just-“

“(Y/n) has graciously gambled away her services, so use her as you see fit.”

The wording Kirari used, left the two second years gaping and thoroughly embarrassed. The awkward silence that followed seemed to be lost on the president and she continued to speak.

“I’ll provide the first task as an example. (Y/n), Ikishima has neglected to return a rather important file that is needed for the composition of a life plan, retrieve it.”

“Yeah, okay.” (Y/n) quickly turned tail and jogged away from the president and her secretary, thankful for every step that parted her from the awkward confrontation and headed to the bowels of the school.

Sayaka and Kirari watched her leave. The latter looking very pleased with herself.

“President, what did you do?” Sayaka asked, studying Kirari’s mirthful face.

“I was merely following up on my promise. I said I’d find out if she was okay, didn’t I? Now you can see for yourself anytime you wish.”

“I didn’t intend for you to gamble her into servitude!” Sayaka’s voice cracked with exasperation. “What was going to happen if you lost?”

“She was going to transfer schools.” Kirari revealed, drinking in Sayaka’s shocked expression with amused satisfaction, “I don’t know what you did to her Sayaka, but she is positively terrified of you.”

“I- I didn’t do anything! At least, I think...” Sayaka poised a contemplative fist over her lips, thinking back from middle school to present, sifting through memories to find anything to the contrary.

“No matter, you’ll have plenty of time to figure out how to proceed,” Kirari waved dismissively, “I never discussed a date of release before the gamble, but I’m sure keeping her in this position after your graduation would be a tad excessive. Now,” Kirari ran her fingers through Sayaka’s ponytail, eliciting a shudder from the underclassman, “I’d love another cup of tea before the meeting.”

***

(Y/n) descended the stairs to the basement floor of the school. She could hear the distinctive hum of old fluorescent lights and boiler room generators, by looking at the rest of Hyakkaou, you’d never think that such a rich school would have such an ancient, decrepit, looking basement.

As she continued clicking down the darkened hall she could hear a muffled, albeit echoing, cackle that would have sent her sprinting in the opposite direction if not for the fact that it was a familiar laugh she had heard disrupt class on countless occasions.

(Y/n) turned down the next hallway, jumping and covering her ears as a shot rang out, painfully reverberating off of the walls.

“It’s like a goddamn haunted murder house down here.” (Y/n) mumbled to herself.

She turned down one more hallway and met a couple beautification committee members loitering around.

“Hey,” (Y/n) addressed them awkwardly, wincing when the small group quieted and eyed her suspiciously, “I’m, uh, looking for Ikishima?”

“Get lost, she’s... busy” one of the grunts replied, a faint look of discomfort, hidden as she pretended to examine her nails.

“It’s student council business,” (Y/n) persisted. As much as she would have loved to peace out right then, there was no way she was going to return from her first errand empty handed. “It can’t wait.”

“No one gives a damn. Trust me when I say you don’t want to go in there.”

“I’ll take the chance.”

“Hey!”

(Y/n) walked passed the disgruntled committee members and banged on the door, the thudding carried down the hall.

“Ikishima! I’m here to collect a file for a life plan!” (Y/n) called through the heavy metal door.

“Damn it! What the hell?” Midari yanked the door open and (Y/n) had to take several steps back at witnessing the severe sweaty, disheveled state the girl on the other side was in. “I was so fucking close and you just cut me off like that? What the hell, that just turns me on more!”

“The file? Now, please?” (Y/n) stuttered out, desperately wishing for a line of brain and eye bleaching products that would make her forget ever seeing her classmate like this. For now she would simply have to settle with getting the hell out of there as soon as possible.

“Wait a minute, why did you get sent here, (Y/n)? The way you pounded on the door, I thought you were Sayaka again.” The girl laughed and (Y/n) mentally gave Sayaka her condolences. “Whatever, there’s a meeting in ten minutes. Why can’t I just bring it then?”

“They probably thought you would forget.” (Y/n) shrugged uncomfortably.

“Hey, you know what, that’s fair.” Midari nodded, “Hang on a second,” she slipped back into the room and came out a few seconds later with a stained and soggy looking piece of trash. “Here, now get lost. Unless you plan on joining me in here.”

“Wh... why is it wet? And what’s this stain?” (Y/n) made a disgusted face as she held the paper away from her, pinching one corner with her thumb and forefinger.

“Don’t ask questions you don’t want the answers to, (L/n).” Midari cackled, the sound continuing on even well after the door had been shut in (Y/n)’s face once more.

On the way back to the student council room, (Y/n) made a pit stop for a ziplock baggie and went to the restroom to wash her hands in the most scalding water she could handle.

***

“That was surprisingly quick,” Kirari smirked from her chair at the head of the table as (Y/n) knocked politely before letting herself in. Sayaka’s head swiveled in (Y/n)’s direction as well, looking more concerned than her amused counterpart. “Were you able to retrieve the file?”

(Y/n) nodded stiffly and presented the file, confined in the plastic of the ziplock baggie like evidence in a murder case, to the president.

“Oh my, it’s hardly legible,” Kirari spoke, her tone suggesting that she may have been mildly impressed by the paper. Or perhaps it was a morbid fascination. “And what’s this stain here?” She asked.

“I don’t know, I don’t think I’ll ever want to know.” (Y/n) replied, placing the plastic wrapped atrocity on the table. Sayaka pursed her lips and nodded as if (Y/n) had spoken some old, wise philosophical scripture.

“Oh well, I’m sure Sayaka can write up a fresh copy later. Congratulations on completing your first assignment, (Y/n). The meeting will be starting soon so please take your position to Sayaka’s right,” Kirari motioned to the girl standing behind her.

“That’s wholly unnecessary, president,” Sayaka shook her head, “We will look silly.”

“Not at all. Surely you can see the logic of wanting my right hand by my side. The right hand of my right hand is by extension, mine as well and needs to be close as such. (Y/n), take Sayaka’s right.”

“Uh, yes, president. Whatever you say,” (Y/n) moved around the table and stood a respectable distance away from Sayaka, directing her attention to the exotic fish swimming in the large aquarium nearby.

“Closer.” Kirari commanded, gently.

Without moving her eyes from the aquarium (Y/n) took a half step in Sayaka’s direction.

“Closer, (Y/n),” Kirari said again, “we must look like a cohesive unit.”

“It’s okay, (L/n)-san, I won’t bite.” Sayaka said, ushering the girl closer with a worried half smile.

“Unless you’re into that kind of thing.” Kirari amended with an amused grin, watching the second years sputter and gasp at her like fish out of water.

When the rest of the council members finally began filtering in, (Y/n) and Sayaka were stood almost shoulder to shoulder while Kirari sat sipping her tea with a satisfied expression.

Although the council had technically been disbanded because of the election, there was still work to be done that could not be held off without threatening the school structure.

“Wow, (Y/n), you really working here now?” Midari asked, doing a double take as she plopped in her seat. “I thought you were just looking for an excuse to see yours truly again.” Midari laughed, pointing at herself with her gun.

“Not really, no.” (Y/n) spoke dryly, arms crossed loosely over her chest.

“Oh that’s right, because you like-“

“Ikishima!”

As the door was violently pushed open to reveal the teen idol Yumemi,(Y/n) exhaled harshly, feeling heat crawling all the way up to the tips of her ears as she continued to watch the fish, not daring to even spare a hint of a glance through her periphery in the direction of Sayaka and Kirari.

“Ikishima, my whole stage still smells like a barn!” The idol gritted through a menacing smile.

“What do you expect me to do about it?” Midari said, swinging her legs onto the table.

“I’m ordering a deep cleanse and you’re paying for it!” Yumemi huffed, taking her seat as well.

“Bahhh, whatever.” Midari waved her off, earning a laugh from Runa as she flopped onto a nearby couch.

The vice president silently made her way to stand at the president’s left, taking a moment to stare between the three people at the head of the table. Or at least, (Y/n) guessed she was. It was hard to tell with the mask.

Yuriko came in last, looking a bit frazzled as she took her own seat. Once it was clear that everyone was situated, Sayaka began to recite the major talking points and the meeting began.

***

(Y/n) swears she almost fell asleep standing up. Only jolting out of her meditative state as chairs scraped against the floor signaling that the meeting must have ended. Her eyes darting to the clock on the wall, revealing that classes would start soon. Taking the time into account, she moved to the wall where she had left her school bag and hooked it over her shoulder before turning back to the president and her secretary.

“I can go to class now, right?”

“Of course,” Kirari gave a slight nod, “just give Sayaka a moment to gather her things and you can go together. Won’t that be nice?”

(Y/n) chanced a glance at Sayaka as she packed her bag full of folders, quickly averting her eyes when Sayaka looked up expectantly from her bag. (Y/n) discreetly cleared her throat, “Sure.”

“Ready to go?” Sayaka asked, shouldering the heavy bag with little effort as she stepped forward. Wow, she’s a lot stronger than she looks.

“Yes,” (Y/n) responded, walking over to the door to hold it open for the secretary.

“Do be back for lunch.” Kirari called.

“Of course, president.” Sayaka nodded, provoking a hint of warmth in Kirari’s charming smile before she turned her back to the door to face the vice president who seemed to eye her intently as (Y/n) closed the door behind her.

They didn’t make it very far down the hall before Sayaka produced a fancy, black, hardcover notebook and held it out to (Y/n).

“I took the liberty of taking notes for you in your absence,” she explained, a small, sweet smile upon her lips.

“Oh, you shouldn’t have, thank you very much!” (Y/n) stared at the notebook with a pleasant warmth building in her chest. She accepted the notebook, accidentally brushing fingers with Sayaka in the process. Her breath caught in her throat as Sayaka’s hand caught her own instead of falling away once the notebook had left it. Her other hand reached up to cup the notebook from underneath when it became clear that (Y/n) was about to drop it.

“It was no trouble but, I’m glad you’re back.”

“Haha, well, one of the president’s conditions of the gamble was for me to go back to class. I guess I couldn’t really hide in the library forever though.” (Y/n) shrugged, trying to be nonchalant while fighting off the emotions bubbling just below the surface.

“You were in the library?” Sayaka looked perplexed as students walked around them, a few giving inquisitive looks as they passed but otherwise hurried to class. “I must have checked there at least three times.”

“You were looking for me?”

“Yes,” Sayaka lightly squeezed (Y/n)’s hand and the notebook between her own, “I even spoke to that degenerate you sit next to, to see if they knew where you were. A useless conversation.”

“Why?” (Y/n) asked with a tremor in her voice, partially afraid of what Sayaka would say.

“I’ll be more than happy to explain at lunch, but we’re going to be late if we don’t start moving.” Sayaka pulled her hands away and motioned (Y/n) forward. (Y/n) fell into step beside Sayaka, heading to their classroom while her heart beat violently against her rib cage.

Upon entering the room mere moments before their teacher, Sayaka smiled kindly at (Y/n) before taking her seat. (Y/n) had her own dreamy look on her face that melted into a steady frown as she made her way to the back of the room and made eye contact with her sheepishly smiling friend.

(Y/n) plopped down in her chair, crossing her arms over her chest with a huff.

“Hey.”

(Y/n) ignored them, focusing her gaze on the front of the room.

“Come on, (Y/n). I told you I was sorry!” Tsubasa whispered, scooting closer, “You can have my notes if you want, you kinda missed a lot.”

“I don’t need them. Besides, you take shit notes.” (Y/n) grumbled.

“How about I let you punch me in the face? Trip me into the fountain outside? What if I buy my favorite ice cream and right before I get to taste it, you knock the cone out of my hand?”

(Y/n) couldn’t help but snort at the suggestion, covering her mouth with her hand and shying away from the look the teacher sent her way before resuming his lecture.

“I really am sorry you know. I’ve missed by best friend.”

“I’m still mad at you, but I’ll be damned if I didn’t miss you too.” (Y/n) simpered.

“Wanna join the crew at lunch? I’ll buy.”

“I can’t actually,” (Y/n)’s smile became a little regretful, “I kind of belong to the student council now so-“

“You what!?” Tsubasa yelled, their voice commanding the attention of the whole classroom, even Sayaka looked back with a raised brow.

“Care to share with the rest of the class?” The teacher spoke coldly.

“No, sorry!” They squeaked, sliding further down their chair.

“Great, try to pay attention, please,” the teacher turned back to his presentation, “Now where were we...”

“Shit.” They sighed under their breath.

“Nice one.” (Y/n) whispered back with a grin.

“Well what do you expect when you drop a bomb like that? What happened?”

“Shouldn’t you be quiet? You’re already on thin ice.”

“What’s the worst he can do, this school is fucked academically anyway. Tell me what you’re doing with the stuco.”

“Okay, just don’t scream... I gambled with the president,” (Y/n) paused, watching Tsubasa cover their mouth and bend over their desk with shock. It was clear they were trying very hard to keep it all together as the lecture continued. “I lost and as per our agreement I have to go to class and assist Igarashi-san with student council duties.”

“Oh my god!” They gasped,

looking between (Y/n) and the back of Sayaka’s head. “Don’t you see what this means?”

“I’m sure you’re going to tell me what you think it means,” (Y/n) rolled her eyes, taking notes on the new slide of the presentation.

“What it means is you’ve earned yourself not one, but two potential girlfriends!” They grinned, flashing a discrete peace sign.

“That’s not what it means at all.” (Y/n) deadpanned.

“Come on, (Y/n)! Since when does the president find interest in plebeians like us? And don’t you think Igarashi would have been absolutely livid to have the president’s attention on you and not herself? I mean, remember how snippy she was when Jabami first rose in prevalence?”

(Y/n) shook her head, “You’re being ridiculous. I’m probably only in Igarashi-san’s good graces because she knows about my feelings for her and it would stand to reason that she doesn’t have to worry about me taking her place or making moves on the president. And then the president! As if anyone knows why the president does any of the things she does. She was probably bored and thought it be funny to watch me make a fool of myself in front of Igarashi everyday.”

“Just you wait. You’ll be a part of their weird little role play before the month is out, I guarantee it.”

“Don’t say it like that! Also, it’s not gonna happen so drop it.” (Y/n) kicked at the exposed ankle across the lane.

“Do I smell a wager to be made?” Tsubasa smirked through the pain, rubbing their ankle.

“I only thing I smell is someone who needs to mind their own business and start taking notes, you degenerate.”

“Igarashi is rubbing off on you already I see.”

***

After four more hours of hushed interrogation, lunch period began. Sayaka waited for (Y/n) in the hallway and (Y/n) gave her troublesome friend a warning glance, daring them to say anything stupid.

“Hey, Igarashi. Take good care of (Y/n) now, okay?” Tsubasa dodged (Y/n)’s fist and waggled their eyebrows before dashing off to the cafeteria.

“Ignore them.” (Y/n) said, almost pleadingly.

“Right, shall we?” Sayaka motioned in the direction of the student council.

“Oh, is it alright if I grab something from the cafeteria first? I didn’t pack a lunch.” (Y/n) asked.

“No need, I’ve arranged for lunch to be catered to the student council room.” Sayaka explained, leading (Y/n) to the grand, wooden double doors.

Sayaka knocked before entering, holding the door open for (Y/n) to slip in before closing it once more.

“Excellent timing, a house pet arrived with lunch just a few minutes ago.” Kirari informed, moving to the parlor area of the large room.

“Shall I fix your tea, president?” Sayaka asked, already walking across the room to start the kettle.

“Yes, please do.” Kirari nodded before then focused in on (Y/n), standing awkwardly near the fish tank. “Come take a seat, (Y/n). Sayaka will join us soon.” Kirari smiled, gesturing to the lush armchair seated to the left of the loveseat where Kirari regally sat.

“Of course, thank you, president.” (Y/n) sat back in the cushioned chair and although it was the epitome of luxury, she kept her back rigid and both feet firmly planted on the ground, staring at her hands as she nervously picked at the edge of her skirt.

“Still so tense,” Kirari sighed, “What happened to my old maid partner over the weekend? I thought we had hit it off rather splendidly.”

“Oh! That reminds me...” (Y/n) dug her hand into her blazer pocket and fished out the joker card from last Friday, presenting it to Kirari, “I figured you would want this back.”

Kirari pulled one eyebrow up in amusement and reached forward. Much like she had done in the library, her fingers grasped passed the card and took hold of (Y/n)’s wrist. Her icy lips curled into an almost sinful smile as she tugged (Y/n) forward. Not enough to pull her from her seat, but enough to bend her closer with (Y/n)’s arm fully extended, held near Kirari’s knees. (Y/n)’s ears burned as Kirari leaned closer and blew directly into her ear, raising the heat tenfold. (Y/n) had no escape from the close proximity as Kirari kept her wrist hostage.

“Thank you,” Kirari hummed, “Is this perhaps your way of suggesting we play again? I would happily indulge you for the right wager.”

“I, uh, um-“

“The tea is ready president.” Sayaka informed, placing the tea set in the middle of the table with a barely audible click.

(Y/n) noted the loosening of Kirari’s grip and used it as an opportunity to straighten back up and put as much space between her and the president as possible, but she feared it was already too late.

Sayaka’s shadow loomed over (Y/n) and she clenched her eyes shut. Sucking in a breath, she tried to prepare herself for the volts of electricity that were sure to come.

“(L/n)? Tea?”

(Y/n) slowly looked up at Sayaka, meeting her mildly concerned features before glancing down to Sayaka’s hands, noting the tea cup and dish that were held out to her.

(Y/n) blinked, thanking Sayaka and accepting the tea with shaky hands. She wasn’t going to get tazed? Sure, Kirari had been the instigator of the close contact, but (Y/n) had expected a murderous look at the very least regardless of who started it. Yet, here Sayaka stood before her, offering her tea looking as calm as can be.

“Sayaka, come sit with me.” Kirari implored, patting the spot beside her on the loveseat.

Sayaka moved with barely contained excitement and with her cheeks blushing faintly, she took her place right of the president.

(Y/n) smiled from behind her tea cup though her heart ached. They looked cute together, happy. Everyone in the academy had some inkling that the president and her secretary had some kind of relationship beyond their work on the council, but many assumed that Sayaka was being used. Simply a means to an end that would be discarded once the president grew tired of her. Based on how tenderly Kirari wiped a stray crumb from Sayaka’s beet red cheek, (Y/n) would have to disagree with her peers.

With the attentions of Kirari and Sayaka focused away from her, (Y/n) took the opportunity to eat her own lunch. Wherever Sayaka had catered from was really great. (Y/n) happily ate the food on her plate and enjoyed the fish swimming around the large aquarium, lost in her own world.

“Are we too dull to keep your interest, (Y/n)?” Kirari asked, piercing through the girl’s all too temporary peace. Sayaka peered over at her as well, whatever the intelligent eyes were searching for (Y/n) couldn’t guess.

“Not at all! I was just in my own little world, sorry! Did you need something?” (Y/n) sat stiffly in her chair once more, waiting anxiously for the president’s reply.

“Now that you mention it, there is something I need.” Kirari smirked lazily, a hand resting just below her lips. “Unfortunately now is not the time however. Not until I further discuss the details with Sayaka.”

Sayaka looked just as in the dark as (Y/n) was as to knowing what that meant, but she didn’t ask for any clarification on the matter. Trusting that her president would tell her what she saw fit when the time came.

“Just be more present with us. I want us to all be well acquainted and we can’t have that if you keep floating off.” Kirari added. (Y/n) nearly spat out her latest sip of tea when Kirari’s foot slowly dragged up her leg from her ankle to her calf before sliding back down and returning to its original position.

“Okay!” (Y/n) coughed. Some of her tea seemed to have gone down the wrong pipe.

(Y/n) was tense throughout the rest of the lunch period. Especially when the president seemed intent on making (Y/n) watch her feel up Sayaka. Okay, so it wasn’t like, explicit or anything but, still! By the end of the lunch period Kirari had pulled Sayaka close enough that she was practically sitting in her lap. Sayaka at least had the decency to look embarrassed but Kirari just kept talking to (Y/n) as if this was all normal behavior. And who knows, maybe for the president it was.

(Y/n) had never been more relieved to hear the warning bell in her life. She stood quickly, hitting her knees on the table as she did so. Luckily nothing had broken or spilled.

“I’ll just help clean this up quick then head off to class, is that okay?” (Y/n) winced, trying to discreetly rub her knees.

“Mm, that’s alright. A house pet will get it. You may head off to class. Sayaka and I have something to discuss,” Kirari ran her fingers through Sayaka’s ponytail, “be sure to come straight back here after classes let out.”

“Yes, president.” (Y/n) turned towards the door, counting down the seconds until she could breathe again.

“I’ll see you in a few minutes, (Y/n)...-san.” Sayaka called after her, still looking red. Perhaps even more so from addressing (Y/n) by her first name out of the blue.

“See you!” (Y/n) squeaked, feeling heat rise in her own cheeks. The president calling her by her first name hadn’t even affected her as strongly as it had when Sayaka just said it. Perhaps because Kirari didn’t seem the type to hold much stake in traditional formalities, but Sayaka certainly seemed the type. To call (Y/n) by her first name without asking her first, even with a formal honorific, it almost made (Y/n) swoon, as foolish as that may sound.

(Y/n) fumbled with the door handle and nearly knocked into the vice president by accident. With an apology quirk on her tongue she continued to walk briskly to her classroom.

“She sure left in a hurry.” Kirari hummed, resting her chin on Sayaka’s shoulder. Ignoring her sister flopping down on the couch. She may have been wearing a mask, but Ririka radiated exhaustion.

“I can’t say I blame her, president- Kirari, you were too... physical with your advances.” Sayaka replied, her hands reached up to cup her own cheeks in an attempt to cool them.

“I was just trying to be friendly, perhaps a little enticing, but how else would we let her know where we stand?”

“You’re moving too fast!” Sayaka exclaimed, “It hasn’t even been a full day since she has started interacting with both of us. You need to gradually work up to it, like with the Tower of Doors, like you did with me.”

“I seem to recall touching you just as much before the completion of the Tower, but perhaps you have a point. Should I be making (Y/n) a tower as well? I suppose it only seems fair.” Kirari looked as if she was already planning the schematics before Sayaka interjected, slightly panicked.

“No! No more towers. (Y/n) is smart, but as you have seen, she is not logical to the same degree as I, and you would most certainly kill her. I would not be able to bare it!”

“Oh, but how interesting it would be to test her mind to the limits.” Kirari spoke wistfully. “To have such an unconventional thought process for dealing with her problems. An irrational rationalism, rather oxymoronic, a paradox. Wouldn’t you say, Say-a-ka?”

“I don’t know why (Y/n) felt the need to touch a seemingly deadly cephalopod in an attempt to get out of answering a sensitive question, but you shouldn’t base a rule off of one experience. Stress has a way of making people do things they wouldn’t normally do. That being said, please don’t make her do anything dangerous.” Sayaka pleaded.

“My, so protective. I thought you said you only had a small crush on her before you met me.” Kirari teased, causing Sayaka to flounder about trying to find her words. “It’s alright, I can see the appeal.”

“The next class period is starting soon. What had you wanted to discuss with me?” Sayaka asked, hoping to derail the current topic of conversation.

“A gamble.” Kirari smiled.

“Ah, a gamble?” Sayaka sighed.

“Yes. I need something a little more stimulating than the election to keep me occupied,” Kirari turned to Ririka for the first time since she entered the room, “Perhaps my dear sister could play dealer for this little wager?”

“No.” Ririka deadpanned, the voice modulator giving the single word a bit more bite. “I love you Kirari, and you’re great Sayaka, but I’ve suffered enough watching you two dance around each other the better part of three years. I don’t want a front row seat to find out how you plan to add a third person into your dynamic.”

“No need to be so pretentious. All you needed to say was that you’re too busy trying to woo Saotome to help your poor, little sister.” Kirari shot back with light theatrics.

“I’m too busy trying to woo Mary to help you, yet again, with your own love life.” Ririka said, fishing her phone out of her skirt pocket to check a text before standing up. “Speaking of, Mary needs me.”

“That girl has changed you. Sometimes I worry it’s for the worse.” Kirari’s words poked at her sister’s retreating figure, hoping to get a rise out of her. She found that she quite liked trying to get under Ririka’s skin now that she had grown a bit of a backbone. Ririka did not give her the satisfaction though, opting to just flat out ignore her sister as she exited the student council room.

“So cold.” Kirari giggled.

“President, Kirari, the gamble?” Sayaka asked trying to get her back on track. She had less than two minutes to get to class now.

“Yes, here is what I have in mind...”

***

“What, you can’t go home now either? (Y/n), that is just tragic.” Tsubasa sympathized, patting (Y/n) on the back until (Y/n) slapped their hand away.

“Knock it off. All I need to do is follow the president and Igarashi-san around for an hour or two while the president gambles. Maybe fetch some things along the way. How hard can it be?”

“(Y/n)-san, are you ready?”

(Y/n) jumped when Sayaka came up behind her and turned swiftly in her direction, “Sure thing, Igarashi-san!”

“Bye (Y/n),” Tsubasa crooned with a mischievous grin, “don’t do anything I wouldn’t do!”

“What are you even talking about? You know what, I don’t want to know.” (Y/n) waved them off and moved to fall in step beside Sayaka, following her to the student council room.

The halls had vacated rather quickly after school hours. Students usual were in a rush to get to the gambling dens or go home. Of course there was a small population that participated in extracurriculars as well, but in this school such things were of little importance.

After Sayaka and (Y/n) turned the first corner, the lingering voices from their classroom faded further into the background until all they could hear was their shoes clipping in near synchronization against the floor.

“Just Sayaka is fine.”

“Huh?” (Y/n) turned her head to face Sayaka, noting the flush of her cheeks as they continued walking.

“I have referred to you by your first name so you may call me Sayaka, I don’t mind.” She elaborated, still looking straight ahead.

“Oh! Sure, thank you, um, Sayaka-san.” (Y/n) stuttered out. Before long, her expression looked just as bashful as Sayaka’s. Never would she have dreamed that she and Sayaka would be on a first name basis! (Y/n) was already on a high from that objectively small step towards familiarity when Sayaka did something that nearly sent (Y/n) into cardiac arrest. She held her hand.

(Y/n)’s neck jerked from Sayaka’s pink face to their conjoined hands several times within the first few seconds of the unsuspected contact, her voice was strangled by her vocal chords allowing only the most pitiful confused squeaks to surface until she quickly clamped her own mouth shut with her free hand.

“I’m sorry, I have poor circulation. Y-you don’t mind warming my hand for a minute, do you?” Sayaka’s delivery was almost smooth, but even if she hadn’t fumbled with the line, the look on her face was anything but calm and confident.

“You’re fine!” (Y/n) winced internally. She sounded much too enthusiastic and spoke much too quick. Sayaka was going to think she was a creep for sure now. But no, Sayaka did not seem overly bothered by the quick reply. She actually seemed, relieved?

“We never did get to talk about why I was looking for you over lunch.” Sayaka stated, seemingly content to carry on a conversation while their hands swayed between them with each step.

“No, I suppose we didn’t.” (Y/n) replied. Her heart twinged, thinking back on how close Sayaka and the president had been. She needed to remind herself not to get her hopes up about Sayaka, even if she was currently threading her fingers between (Y/n)’s own.

“You must know by now that I saw the broadcast, Midari’s gamble.”

(Y/n) swallowed audibly, hoping desperately that her hand wouldn’t start sweating. “I figured as much. But the president did tell me that.”

“I see. Well, I wanted to talk to you about what you said. About your truth. I needed to talk with the president about it first of course. Then by the time we had it sorted out, it had been a few days and I had already noticed you hadn’t been in class at all so I had started looking for you. I wanted to tell you—“

“Don’t worry about it!” (Y/n) cut in with a forced smile, “I already know what you’re going to say.”

“You do?” Sayaka asked, (Y/n) almost believed that the secretary had gripped her hand harder just then, but quickly pushed the thought away. Chalking it up to more wishful thinking.

“Yeah, I knew I never had a chance. I was actually kind of hoping you just wouldn’t bring it up, but knowing you, I should've guessed you would want to follow the rules of etiquette and reject me formally.” (Y/n) had said, struggling to keep the melancholy out of her tone.

“(Y/n),” Sayaka actually looked rather pained, but the expression was lost on (Y/n) as the other girl tried to distract herself by looking out the windows they passed. “That’s not what I-“

“There you two are. Having fun without me I see.” Sayaka and (Y/n) whipped their heads forward, watching Kirari walking towards them as the student council room doors closed behind her with a dull thud. “Need I remind you that there are gambles that require my attention?” Kirari smirked lightly.

Sayaka looked momentarily torn before finally addressing her president. “I apologize president. I hadn’t realized we were running late.”

“Oh, you weren’t. I’m just feeling antsy today I suppose.” Kirari shrugged her shoulders lackadaisically before making a show of noticing Sayaka and (Y/n)’s connected hands. “My, I hope I wasn’t intruding on anything just now. Look how close you two are already. I think I might even be jealous.” Kirari said, her soft smirk never once faltered as her glacial eyes pinned the underclassmen in place.

“She said her hand was cold is all!” (Y/n) quickly explained, and although her hold on Sayaka’s hand slackened, the secretary did not take the invitation to remove her hand. “You’re more than welcome to take my place. I’m sure she’d prefer your company anyway.”

“I see,” Kirari’s eyes drifted over Sayaka for a moment, “Unfortunately, I suffer from the same ailment. In fact, I’d argue I’m worse off than Sayaka in that regard. I hadn’t realized you would be so valuable, (Y/n),” Kirari closed the distance between them, surprising (Y/n) by slipping her hand into (Y/n)’s free one. “Mm, yes, I could get used to this.”

If (Y/n) thought Sayaka’s hand was cool to the touch, Kirari’s was literal ice. Were the rumors of her being a vampire true? My god, her hand was down right freezing maybe the blue coloring of her nails wasn’t even polish.

“Well then, the gambling hall awaits. Not that I care to appease the masses, but Sayaka insists I entertain the delusions of the smaller fish.” Kirari sighed.

“I want to see you come out on top of this election, president. Every vote counts.” Sayaka stated matter-of-factly.

(Y/n) just stared blankly ahead as they strolled down the hall, occasionally looking down at her hands, each encompassed by the hands of the president and her secretary who continued to talk around her. She would have pinched herself if she had a free hand to do so.

Before they entered the den, Sayaka and Kirari disengaged, breaking (Y/n) from her trance just in time for (Y/n) to tune into the president’s words now directed at her.

“I do hope you have a vivid imagination, (Y/n). I can’t fathom that any of these matches will be particularly entertaining to watch.”

Sayaka looked the slightest bit irked by the president’s behavior, but it was very subtle. Especially when devotion and loyalty always seemed to shine most prominently when she looked at her. Sayaka motioned (Y/n) to open the left side of the double doors while Sayaka herself opened the right, allowing Kirari to saunter right in. Any ambient noise that they had heard before died instantly upon the president’s entry.

The trio made their way to the back, center table and Sayaka pulled out the vacant chair that would serve as Kirari’s throne for the evening. Kirari sat gracefully, hooking one knee over the other she smiled down at the students who had already gathered around the free seats before connecting eyes with the election committee member who would serve as their dealer.

“Let us not waste anymore time. What are we playing tonight?” Kirari asked. (Y/n) could only see her side profile from where she stood beside Sayaka, but she swore those endlessly blue eyes were glowing.

***

Despite Kirari’s warning, (Y/n) found she was not bored at all. Kirari was a gambling beast. Claiming vote after vote until none remained and the room was quiet for a whole other reason, everyone had left, dejected and voteless.

“Another clean sweep Momobami-san. I’ll be sure to process the votes before the updated rankings come out tomorrow.” Inaho informed.

“I see. Thank you for your diligence.” Kirari replied offhandedly as she rose from her seat. “Sayaka, is my car waiting out front?”

“Of course, president.” Sayaka nodded.

“Let’s be on our way then.”

(Y/n) walked with them until they reached the school gate. Expecting to go their separate ways from there, but when she made to continue past the expensive black car, Kirari stopped her.

“I hope you weren’t planning on waking home. It’s already quite late you know.”

“I always walk home, actually. It’s really not that far. I’ll be fine.” (Y/n) assured.

“If you live so close then come with us. I’ll have the driver drop you off.” Kirari left no room for argument, cementing her position by waving (Y/n) into the doorway Sayaka had pulled open.

“If you insist...” (Y/n) crawled in and sat at the far end of the car. She was amazed at how spacious it was in there and how soft the seats were. The vehicle also still had that new car smell, (Y/n) vaguely wondered if the Momobamis just bought a new car every week.

Kirari crawled in soon after her, followed by Sayaka closing the door tightly behind her. The secretary signaled the driver before pushing a button that closed the privacy window, blocking the driver’s view of them in the back seat.

(Y/n) tilted her head to look out the window however, her jaw was quickly snapped up between icy fingers, pulling her vision back to the interior of the car.

“Not this again.” Kirari tutted, keeping her hold on (Y/n)’s jaw, “Sayaka and I are right here. Surely you could spare us a few minutes of your attention.”

“Sorry.” (Y/n) gulped, feeling the icy fingers slide down her cheeks to her neck before pulling away. Staring at the two of them, their eyes, it was like being caught between the deepest depths of the sea and the furthest reaches of outer space. It was intense, who could blame (Y/n) for trying to look away.

“Ah,” Kirari startled (Y/n) by leaning fully against her side, resting her cheek fully against (Y/n)’s shoulder, “what a dull evening this has turned out to be. It’s only Monday as well.”

(Y/n) felt more weight press her a tad further against the car door and saw Sayaka lean against Kirari in turn like the three of them were toppled dominos.

“Keep pushing on president. The weekend will come faster than you think.” Sayaka assured, reaching one arm over Kirari to cover (Y/n)’s hand that was picking at the hem of her skirt, stilling the movement and further confusing the poor girl.

“Mm, but do I have anything to look forward to this weekend dear Say-a-ka?” Kirari playfully tapped Sayaka’s nose for each syllable of her name, causing the secretary’s nose to scrunch cutely.

“Well, that’s the gamble, isn’t it?” Sayaka answered back, her eyes shifted to meet (Y/n)’s as of trying to convey something to her.

“Mm, I suppose you’re right.” Kirari agreed, joining Sayaka’s hand over (Y/n)’s.

“What gamble? Is it for the election?” (Y/n) asked, dipping a metaphorical toe into the conversation. Even if Kirari seemed to want her attention, that didn’t necessarily mean she wanted her commentary. She still didn’t know where she was supposed to fit in this new role. Kirari, however, seemed pleased with her query.

“No, it’s a separate affair. I’m looking forward to seeing how it plays out. Sayaka rarely indulges me when it comes to such things. Tell me, (Y/n),” Kirari’s eyes glinted, “which of us do you think will come out on top?”

“Kirari!” Sayaka scolded halfheartedly.

(Y/n) felt her cheeks prickle with heat. Was that supposed to be an innuendo or did Sayaka simply want to keep the gamble to themselves? She wasn’t sure. Still, it would be unwise to drop the subject when the president was so clearly waiting for an answer.

“I’m afraid I’m not sure, president.” (Y/n) answered diplomatically. “What are you gambling for, if I may ask?”

“That, dear (Y/n),” Kirari drew in close, “is a secret for another time.”

(Y/n) gulped at the proximity then sighed when Kirari pulled back to play with Sayaka’s ponytail. She was somehow both relieved and disappointed to have her own space back.

“It appears we’ve reached your destination.” Kirari spoke as the car came to a smooth stop at the curb. “Be sure to get a good night’s sleep. Don’t think Sayaka and I hadn’t noticed the dark circles under your eyes.”

“Yes, please sleep well (Y/n).” Sayaka echoed, earning a chuckle from Kirari.

“You also sleep too little for my liking. Don’t think I forgot about that ‘accidental’ phone call at four in the morning last week.” Kirari taunted lightly.

“Kirari!” Sayaka covered her eyes, embarrassed.

“I’ll try to get some sleep.” (Y/n) smiled, stepping out of the car. She bent over to look back in, “Thank you for the ride. Good night, sleep well. I’ll see you both tomorrow.”

(Y/n) stood straight up and closed the car door. She walked to the curb outside her house and waved at the car as it picked up speed and disappeared down the road.

No one else was home. They were either out working or out on business retreats or cocktail parties so the first thing (Y/n) did upon entering her home was yell about the fucking weird turn her life was taking.

***

It was Friday and (Y/n) felt like she had aged thirty years in the last four days. For some reason beyond her comprehension, Sayaka and Kirari had become even more... touchy, since Monday. Every touch, especially from Kirari, seemed methodical. Like they were trying to provoke a certain reaction from (Y/n). What kind, she wasn’t sure. But they would often say some sweet words and get way too close to (Y/n)’s face. Close enough that if (Y/n) didn’t keep her wits about her, she was worried she’d close the short distance and kiss one of them.

“I don’t know what they’re making you do over there in that council room, but I think you need to ask for a vacation or something because you look like shit.” Tsubasa had lovingly told (Y/n) during class.

“I don’t know what they’re trying to do to me.” (Y/n) groaned, rubbing her palms harshly against her eyes.

“What are they doing to you?”

“I don’t even know how to explain. ‘Don’t think I want to.” (Y/n) leaned further into her desk.

“They’re trying to seduce you already, huh?” Tsubasa grinned.

“No!” (Y/n) hissed back. “Stop saying stuff like that!”

“Well, whatever’s going on, you clearly need a break.”

“I would love a break, but in case you forgot, I pretty much sold my soul to the president for the rest of high school. It doesn’t seem like an option.”

“I have an idea. What if you just, broke your legs?” Tsubasa suggested, looking pleased with themself. (Y/n) frowned at them, unimpressed.

“How the hell would that help?”

“Bed rest. Can’t really follow them around all day with broken legs now can you?”

“They’d probably get me a wheelchair. It’s make more sense to fake having tuberculosis or something. Rather than actually break my own legs.”

“Oh now you’re all about self preservation. Where did octopus girl go?” Tsubasa mocked jokingly. (Y/n) rolled her eyes.

“That’s it!”

(Y/n) and Tsubasa jumped in their seats and all their classmates swiveled in their seats to look back at them. Their algebra teacher seemed to have finally had enough of their little conversation.

“(L/n)-san, can you tell me what I just said?”

“No sir, I apologize.” (Y/n) quickly replied, heat crawling up her neck and settling in her cheeks.

“That’s what I thought,” the teacher shook his head despondently before switching his gaze to Tsubasa who looked largely unaffected, “I’m not even going to ask you. I need both of you to stay after class.”

“But, but lunch!” Tsubasa cried, their expression turned on a dime.

“It won’t take long. Everyone else may leave a few minutes early so we can have the classroom to ourselves.”

(Y/n) watched everyone else get up to leave. Her eyes caught Sayaka’s and she felt even more embarrassed at the sympathetic wave she gave her before following the rest of the class out of the door.

***

“Man, that teacher had no chill today, huh?” Tsubasa grinned when they finally came out of the classroom.

“Yeah, now I’m late. Thanks for making me suffer through that talk.” (Y/n)’s frown deepened.

“It’s about time honestly. I was starting to think he had a bias against me.”

“My work shows I’m learning something. You never get above a ‘D’, so of course he’d be more pissed at you.” (Y/n) looked up at the clock on the wall and noted the time, “I’ve got to get to the student council room. I’ll see you around.”

“Yeah, maybe we should get in trouble more often. I hardly get to see you these days.”

“I’d really rather not make a habit of getting chewed out by teachers. I got to go.” (Y/n) called over her shoulder, already making her way to the student council room. When she arrived, the door was already partly ajar and she heard Sayaka and Kirari talking to each other.

“Time is running out for our little gamble Sayaka. At our current standings it appears that we both may lose.”

(Y/n) paused just out of sight. She had forgotten about Sayaka and Kirari’s secret gamble. With a wave of curiosity flowing through her she stood quietly, waiting to see if she could hear anything else about the wager.

“You do like a challenge, Kirari. I can’t imagine she could hold out much longer though. I’m sure (Y/n) would have kissed me yesterday if you had not sent Midari to interfere.”

(Y/n) knew what Sayaka was referring to instantly. Yesterday, she and Sayaka had paused to sit at the fountain in the courtyard. Sayaka had told (Y/n) she had something in her hair and combed her fingers through it, smiling tenderly all the while. They had been so close, then Midari ran up and belly flopped into the shallow waters, dousing her fellow Sazanka classmates with it. (Y/n) never would have thought Sayaka had actually wanted to kiss her before that moment.

“I don’t know what you mean,” Kirari giggled, “Besides, (Y/n) and I have had a few close encounters ourselves. It’s anyone’s game.”

(Y/n) was in shock. We’re they really trying to make her kiss on of them for a gamble? Her blood began to boil. Was this all just some funny game to them? They knew about her feelings for Sayaka, they had to be making fun of her.

(Y/n) roughly gripped the door handle and swung the door open, startling Sayaka, but Kirari simply looked back with a raised brow and an amused smile.

“I don’t care that I have to be a secretary to a secretary for the rest of my days at this academy, but I refuse to be played with like this!” (Y/n) shot angrily. “Oh, (Y/n)’s so pathetic and desperate! Let’s see if we can get her to kiss one of us so we can laugh about it later!” (Y/n) mocked. “Well, I refuse to be walked over like this.”

“Oh, (Y/n)! It’s not like that I swear!” Sayaka pleaded, stepping towards (Y/n) only for the other girl to step away from her.

“(Y/n),” Kirari singsonged, “you are talking about things you do not fully understand. Come sit so we can discuss this and shed some clarity on the situation.”

“No!” (Y/n) clenched her firsts tightly against her sides. “I need some time to myself.”

“(Y/n), wait!” Sayaka called after her, but (Y/n) was already darting out the door and jogging down the hall.

She kept going, slipping out a side exit and headed to one of the back trails of the school forest. As she continued on, she happened upon a small pond, filled with algae. There was a large flat bolder at the shore that looked about just as good a place as any to host a mental breakdown so she sat there, pulling her knees to her chest. (Y/n) sat there looking at a frog that rested half submerged in the duckweed and algae. She felt her phone buzz in her pocket but she ignored it.

“Fuck school.” She muttered to herself. She was sure it was a text from Kirari. Lunch period had ended ten minutes ago and she was supposed to be in class right now. “I’m taking a vacation day.”

Something startled the frog and it dipped under the water, leaving the duckweed to swirl above the disturbed surface. Then a body came into (Y/n)’s peripheral and sat beside her on the boulder and she jerked her head to fully take in the invader.

“Vice president.” (Y/n) stared at the upperclassman, startled by her ghostly presence “What are you doing here?”

“Kirari tasked me with retrieving you and returning you to your studies.” Ririka’s voice crackled beneath the mask.

“I see. I can’t say I’m surprised, it was part of the deal after all.” (Y/n) frowned pensively.

“It was too easy to find you. Now we will just have to stay here for awhile. I could use a nap.”

(Y/n) stared at the vice president, her mouth slightly agape while she watched the masked girl lay back against the rock. Ririka laced her fingers over her stomach and released a relaxed breath. Though through the modulator it sounded more like a ghostly moan.

“You aren’t going to make me go back?” (Y/n) asked.

“Not yet, making Kirari wait should be a more than fitting punishment for being such an idiot.”

“Hh... huh?” (Y/n) didn’t know what to think about any of this. Was she seriously hanging out with the vice president now? Listening to her call the most terrifying person in the school an idiot?

“She has a uniquely awful way of dealing with her feelings that is simply exhausting. I thought once she and Sayaka got together she’d smarten up a bit, but Sayaka continues to indulge in her nonsense.” Ririka looked up at (Y/n) through the black mesh that covered her eyes, “They really do like you, you know.”

“You must be mistaken, vice president.” (Y/n) shook her head, a humorless laugh bubbled past her lips. “It’s all just for some stupid gamble.”

“I never said they were good at conveying it in a way that makes sense.” Ririka shrugged. “Kirari’s idea of a love letter to Sayaka was a five story tower that came with a four out of five chance of death. You should feel relieved that they dialed it back for you.”

“I don’t understand. I heard them talking. It was all for a gamble to see who could make me kiss them.”

“Did you hear what the wager was?” Ririka asked.

“No, but does it really matter?” (Y/n) sighed, looking back out at the pond.

“The winner would get to go out on a date with you first and the loser would have to pay for it.”

(Y/n) stared down at Ririka incredulously.

“Believe me, I know it makes no sense. They both intend to date you, but they don’t seem to know how to go about asking.”

“But, aren’t they already dating each other? I don’t...” (Y/n) went quiet, trying to piece it all together. Her head was starting to hurt.

“It all started during the tournament. We noticed Sayaka was agitated watching the event, but we really didn’t understand why until the octopus round. Kirari wouldn’t let it go, of course. So she finally got Sayaka to admit that she had a crush on you before meeting her.” Ririka recalled.

“Then they spent the following couple days talking about that, and about the possibility of inviting you to join them on a date and then, yeah, you see where that all spiraled off to.”

“That’s... they really like me like that?” (Y/n) whispered.

“Yes, you have my condolences.” Ririka’s phone rumbled in her pocket and she took it out to check it. (Y/n)’s phone rumbled not too long after.

While Ririka read her sister’s text, (Y/n) read her own.

Five new messages

12:14pm

President Momobami: (Y/n), I hope you aren’t planning on backing out on our agreement. I will give you one class period of reprieve, then you must get back to class. We will talk after school.

12:15pm

Igarashi Sayaka: (Y/n), where are you? I’m so sorry, but I swear it’s not what you think.

12:18pm

Igarashi Sayaka: I’m worried about you. Please come back.

12:19pm

Igarashi Sayaka: Please talk to me. At least let me know that you’re okay.

1:02pm

TsuBAKA: where r u? Igarashi looks feral lmao but srsly what u up to?

(Y/n) sighed and turned off her phone without answering any of the messages.

“It’s time to head back, (L/n)-san.” Ririka stood and stretched, “Please don’t make me drag you back as the president suggests.”

“Okay,” (Y/n) scooted off the boulder and smoothed her skirt into place, “thank you for explaining everything to me, Veep. I’m still kind of worked up, but this really helped.”

“When you work as closely with the president as I do, damage control becomes second nature.” Ririka deadpanned.

When they made their way back into the building it was within the five minute break between class periods. (Y/n) waved goodbye to Ririka before walking into her classroom where students were quietly talking amongst themselves. Immediately she heard a desk chair screech harshly against the floor and she looked up just in time to see Sayaka push her right back out the door. She took her by the hand and pulled her down the hall and turned the corner to a more secluded hallway.

“Ah!” (Y/n) gasped when Sayaka pulled her into a tight embrace.

“Where have you been? Why didn’t you answer my texts?” Sayaka scolded. “We really need to talk.”

“And we will,” (Y/n) pulled back from the hug a bit, “but first we better finish the school day. I’m already on thin ice for violating my contract with the president for one class period.”

“Don’t worry. She understands, we both do,” Sayaka took (Y/n)’s hands in hers, “But before we have to sit through another three class periods, I want to tell you how sorry I am. I promise it’s not what you thought, we just went about it in an entirely inappropriate way and I promise you I’ll do everything I can to make it right!” Sayaka proclaimed, growing steadily louder with each word, making (Y/n) wince, but also smile a small, appreciative smile nonetheless.

“Thank you, Sayaka. You’re well on your way to fulfilling that promise already.” (Y/n) lightly squeezed Sayaka’s hands before letting them go, making the secretary blush. “The teacher will be in soon, better get back to class.”

“Right.” Sayaka followed (Y/n) back into the classroom. Taking her seat, she had finally taken notice of the drumming of her heart. At least (Y/n) didn’t seem as devastated as she had when she stormed out of the student council room, but now she was worried for a whole other reason. Would (Y/n) still be interested in her after all of this, or was it all too much for her?

“What was that all about? Trouble in your office role play?”

“Shut up, Tsubasa.”

***

The classes dragged on and on. When they were finally done, all (Y/n) really wanted to do was go home and sleep the weekend away, but life had other plans.

Sayaka watched (Y/n) gather her belongings intently. As if she was afraid (Y/n) would disappear if she withdrew her gaze. With one last annoying look from Tsubasa, (Y/n) approached Sayaka and they made their way to the student council room together. Sayaka’s mind was whirring with the proper sentiments to convey to her classmate, yet she held her tongue. Deciding it would be best to do so with the president by her side.

Upon entering the room, they saw Kirari gazing into her aquarium. She was seemingly too lost to hear them enter, but of course someone like Kirari Momobami was never one to be caught off guard. Kirari turned to face her underclassmen, offering a slight smile.

“(Y/n), what a pleasant surprise. Are you done with your tantrum?” Kirari teased, much to Sayaka’s chagrin.

“President!” Sayaka warned, cheeks red.

“That depends,” (Y/n) crossed her arms, “are you going to explain yourselves?” (Y/n) doubted that the vice president would lie to her, but to hear it directly from the horse’s mouth would make her feel much more secure.

“Explanations,” Kirari sighed, moving to stand in front of (Y/n), “I don’t do explanations. Not in anyway that makes sense, at least, according to Sayaka,” smile never changing she turned her head to Sayaka, “perhaps you could explain the logistics of it, Sayaka?”

“I should have expected as much,” Sayaka grumbled lightly, earning a chuckle from Kirari. She took (Y/n) by the hand and sat her down on the large, plush couch nearby before taking a seat next to her, “(Y/n) in order to keep this as simple as possible, I’m going to be very brief. I’ll be happy to answer any questions once I present our case.” Sayaka spoke as if she was getting ready to do a presentation.

“Mm, so methodical.” Kirari hummed, taking the empty seat on (Y/n)’s other side, making their thighs touch despite the ample space left on the furniture. Sayaka ignored her and began her explanation.

“The president... Kirari and I, want to date you. Kirari came up with the idea that whichever one of us you kissed first would get to take you out somewhere first while the other had to pay and stay home. It wasn’t our intention to hurt you. We really should have just asked you like the vice president suggested. I’m really sorry.”

“I’m confused,” (Y/n) started, trying to ignore how Kirari kept dancing the fingers of one of her hands up and down (Y/n)’s thigh, presumably out of boredom, “If you both want to date me, why wouldn’t you just... why was the gamble a one or the other thing? Why wouldn’t you both get to go?”

Kirari’s fingers stopped tapping and Sayaka’s face drew a blank. (Y/n) took the silence as a sign to keep going.

“Like, okay, say this somehow worked and one of you took me out on a date. Then what? Did you think you could just... switch off? Were you actually planning to approach me about polygamy or was it supposed to be some kind of surprise? And doesn’t it sound backwards to kiss before we actually start dating anyway?”

“We hadn’t thought about that.” They answered in comical unison after a few moments of dead air silence.

“Wow, now I understand why the vice president is so tired.” (Y/n) released a laugh of disbelief, “You two are kind of hopeless, no offense.”

“I would advise you watch your tongue, (Y/n),” Kirari shifted her weight to loom over (Y/n) with their faces inches apart, “I had previously chosen to ignore your insubordination earlier, but if you’re going to tempt me, a punishment may be in order after all.”

“Here is the new gamble,” Kirari continued, eyes gleaming, “kiss Sayaka, and she wins, kiss me, and I win. Whoever loses still has to pay for the excursion, but gets to tag along. Of course, you could choose to walk out the door if you so desire. Just keep in mind that I technically own you.”

“Kirari! You can’t just coerce her like that! We already failed with the first gamble attempt. I’m all gambled out, can we not push (Y/n) further away please?” Sayaka pleaded.

“I’ll do it.” (Y/n) shrugged, standing up from her seat and turning to face the other two girls still on the couch.

“You... you will?” Sayaka asked. She really couldn’t believe it.

“Yeah, can you two stand up, please.”

“My, (Y/n). I must say I didn’t expect you to take the bait after our misunderstanding earlier,” Kirari stood up, poised as ever, “I’m excited to witness your choice.”

(Y/n) stared between her two choices, eyeing their expressions, their body language, for any last second tells that this was all just a dream or a cruel prank and found nothing. She took in a deep breath and nodded to herself.

“President.”

“Yes?” Kirari smirked. She hardly moved forward before (Y/n) stopped her.

“Could you lean down a little? A little more... great.” (Y/n) cupped Kirari’s left cheek and startled Sayaka by cupping the secretary’s right cheek. She pushed the duo’s heads together until they were cheek to burning cheek and angled their surprisingly pliant faces until they were more or less kissing each other awkwardly with the corner of their lips. With one quick look at her handy work, (Y/n) hummed and leaned in. It was hard to do so with so many noses in the way, but she tilted her head back and managed to land a chaste kiss on both the icy blue and glossy pink lips before her.

“Ha, bet you weren’t expecting that now, were you?” (Y/n) pulled back with a grin. It hadn’t been a sexy first kiss, but it was going to be a memorable one, that was for sure.

After a beat of silence, Kirari began to laugh. Sayaka smiled beneath the hand she had brought up to her lips.

“So now what happens?” (Y/n) asked, feeling a bit smug for finding some kind of loophole in the gamble, until- “MMPH!”

Kirari’s lips met (Y/n)’s fervently and just as quickly as she descended, she pulled back just a hair to speak, her lips brushed against (Y/n)’s now quivering ones with each word. “That’s the best part, (Y/n),” Kirari paused for a kitten lick at the corner of (Y/n)’s lips, “You see, we had discussed what we would do if you had decided to play us both in our original gamble. Since Sayaka and I have both won, we choose what we will do together, the three of us, and you will pay.”

“What!?” (Y/n) felt sweat slide down her cheek, swearing she could hear it sizzle out once it came into contact with the heated flesh. Her tongue darted out of her mouth of its own volition to taste the tacky flavor of the blue lipstick residue Kirari had left on her lips. Kirari was going to kiss her like that and then try to pull a fast one on her like that? “You can’t do that! That was the previous gamble! The rules changed when you presented this new version of it to me!”

“Perhaps you should have asked me what would happen in the event of a tie then. I had decided your punishment would be for me to withhold the trivial information about ties.” Kirari smirked, running her fingers through (Y/n)’s hair. “If it makes you feel any better, your solution was still a bit of a surprise. We had only accounted for you kissing each of us behind the other’s back, not kissing us at the same time. Had you tried to be secretive in your advances, Sayaka and I would have had a lovely night to ourselves at your expense.”

“Oh that’s such—!” (Y/n)’s jaw was pulled to the side and her lips were captured by someone else. This kiss was much softer, and lasted a tad longer. When Sayaka pulled back

(Y/n) had forgotten how she was going to cuss out Kirari, which was probably a blessing.

“I know it was an absolute mess to get to this point, and I can’t believe I’m going to say this, but I’m so glad Midari came up with that idiotic gambling event.” Sayaka smiled, resting her forehead against (Y/n)’s arm.

“Yes, this has been quite the interesting development. I’m looking forward to seeing how this turns out,” Kirari added, speaking more as if this was a science experiment rather than a major change in a relationship dynamic with not just (Y/n), but Sayaka as well.

“You two are so fucking weird.” (Y/n) laughed breathlessly, swinging an arm around both of them to hug them close, “You’re both lucky I like you guys so much.”

“You’re lucky you piqued my interest or you would find yourself as a house pet before you could say mittens.” Kirari easily replied.

“Get along you two. Can we not just enjoy the moment?” Sayaka sighed.

“Are we not getting along? I thought we were doing just fine.” Kirari asked, tilting her head slightly to the side.

“Sorry Sayaka.” (Y/n) apologized sheepishly, hesitantly resting her cheek on the top of Sayaka’s head.

The door to the council room clicked open and Sayaka and (Y/n) startled and moved away from their little group huddle.

“Oh, it’s just you.” Kirari smirked as she watched her sister come in and close the door behind her. “Look Ririka,” Kirari spoke, a hint of excitement audible in her tone as she pulled Sayaka and (Y/n) back to her body, “I’ve got two girlfriends. That’s 200% more girlfriends than you possess.”

Ririka rolled her eyes beneath her mask. “Godspeed, (L/n)-san.”

“You always tell me how unconventional-“

“The word I used was convoluted.” Ririka interjected, (Y/n) snorted.

“But it obviously works,” Kirari continued on, not at all discouraged, “if you need me to set you and Saotome up with something I’ll gladly offer you my expertise.”

“Entirely unnecessary. Besides, if Mary so much as smelled you anywhere near the vicinity of where we were, she wouldn’t be happy about it to say the least.”

“Have it your way, dear sister,” Kirari shrugged, looping her arms with Sayaka and (Y/n)’s, “we three have much to discuss for our outing tomorrow so we’ll be on our way. I’ll see you when you decide to come home.” Ririka waved dismissively while Kirari guided Sayaka and (Y/n) out the large double doors.

“But, election gambles!” Sayaka’s reminder went ignored.

“Wait, sisters?” Ririka heard (Y/n) ask as the trio left the room and she shook her head. Ririka’s phone buzzed and she checked the text and smiled.

3:32pm

Mary: Hey dumb dumb, done talking to evil incarnate yet? I’d like to get to that movie before the previews start.

3:32pm

Ririka: omw <3️🏻

***

Saturday came and (Y/n) prayed for her bank account. She was far better off financially than a scholarship student, but she wasn’t Momobami level rich. She still couldn’t believe she had to pay after all of that nonsense. She waited outside of her house, casually dressed as per Sayaka’s instructions. When a familiar sleek, black car pulled up to her she got in and was warmly greeted by her dates.

“Alright,” (Y/n) smiled nervously, “what have you two decided on for today?”

“We’re going to drive to the ocean, have lunch at a lovely local bistro, and then walk along the beach. Isn’t that right Kirari?” Sayaka leveled a look at Kirari that screamed no funny business.

“Yes,” Kirari sighed, “I wanted to go to the moon again, but Sayaka wouldn’t agree to it.”

“T... to the moon, again.” (Y/n) slowly parroted. She turned to Sayaka and shared her gratitude to the secretary with a light kiss on the cheek and a whispered thanks for rescuing her trust fund.

Lunch was great, a lovely view of the ocean from the outdoor deck they were dining on. They shared bites of their meals together, talked and laughed. They had a wonderful time and (Y/n) was surprised by the normalcy she felt sitting there with Kirari and Sayaka.

Then they walked on the beach, feeling the sand squish and grind between their toes. (Y/n) carried both hers and Sayaka’s shoes with one hand while the other was entangled with Sayaka’s fingers. Sayaka’s other hand was held by Kirari as the lightly swung their hands with each step. Eventually they slowed down and found a nice place to sit for awhile and watch the waves with some ice cream from a nearby vendor. After their rest, they continued walking along the shore, looking for neat shells and rocks.

As the sky turned pink, they watched how the sun seemed to get swallowed by the sea and they took that as their sign to start heading back home. They made their way back up to the nearest sidewalk where their driver was already waiting for them and piled into the car, giggling and recapping their favorite moments of the day.

They were about halfway home when Sayaka fell asleep. The car being as spacious as it was, allowed for the secretary to be maneuvered so that her head rested in (Y/n)’s lap and Kirari could move to sit on (Y/n)’s other side to leave room for Sayaka’s legs. Kirari and (Y/n) continued to talk quietly together. (Y/n) yawned, prompting Kirari to pull (Y/n)’s head into her chest.

“Sleep,” Kirari soothed, cool fingers rested against (Y/n)’s hairline, “I’ll wake you upon our arrival.”

(Y/n) nodded against Kirari’s chest and dozed off. Allowing the smooth motions and gentle whirring sounds of the car, as well as the even beats of Kirari’s heart, to lull her to sleep.

Kirari watched the blurred city lights come into view from the far window of the car. Her left hand lightly massaged (Y/n)’s scalp while her right held Sayaka’s. The younger girl had a cute habit of sleeping with her hands near her face, sometimes going as far to completely cover her nose and mouth. Kirari often wondered how she could even breathe like that. Kirari chuckled quietly and raised Sayaka’s hand to her lips, giving a kiss before lowering it again gently, the movement stirred Sayaka, but ultimately she remained asleep, snuggling further into (Y/n)’s lap.

Next, she rested her face in (Y/n)’s hair, inhaling the newer scent that seemed to compliment her own and Sayaka’s so well. She could really get used to this. Kirari pressed a kiss in (Y/n)’s hair. Kirari didn’t receive a reaction, but she simply chalked that up to be due in part by the stress of the week wrecking (Y/n)’s sleep schedule.

Kirari would have felt regret for having to wake them both, if not for the fact that she was excited to see their sleepy, grumpy faces staring bleary eyed at her. It was far too cute.

“This isn’t my house?” (Y/n) mumbled tiredly, rubbing her eyes.

“You disclosed earlier that your household is empty most weekends. Sayaka’s and my own are much the same. It will be nice not to have to spend the rest of the night alone, will it not?”

“I guess, but I’ll probably pass out as soon as I touch a pillow.” (Y/n) shivered as the cool night air hit her body. Sayaka, who was also too tired to function, latched on to (Y/n) in an attempt to keep warm.

“That’s the plan, now please, come in.”

If (Y/n) wasn’t so exhausted she would freak out at the vastness of Kirari’s estate. They got into a freaking elevator at one point and then kept walking down the grand corridor passing door after door, until they finally stopped at one and Kirari ushered them inside. Large fish tanks framed the walls, painting the dark room in a soft blue, ambient light.

Kirari guided (Y/n) and Sayaka to the bathroom to brush their teeth and to just get ready to sleep comfortably in general. Sayaka already had her own toothbrush there and scrubbed at her teeth with her eyes drooping shut.

“Don’t forget to take out your contacts.” Kirari reminded her softly before opening a nearby cabinet to supply (Y/n) with a toothbrush of her own. (Y/n) never would have dreamed the girl who came up with the house pet system could be so gentle.

The three girls brushed their teeth and washed their faces. Then they changed into some pajamas that Kirari had provided and made their way to the opposite side of the room where the bed lay. A bed that probably could sleep a family of five comfortably.

Kirari pulled back the covers and crawled in. Sayaka was quick to follow and was unusually demanding, curling into Kirari while also tugging (Y/n) in behind her. They snuggled into the silky sheets, holding each other close. (Y/n) had almost fallen back asleep before Sayaka sat up in bed with a cute, little frown on her face.

“Wait, goodnight kisses.”

(Y/n) almost laughed, simply believing Sayaka was too tired to filter her thoughts and desires, but the Kirari sat up as well

“I almost thought you had forgotten, Say-a-ka. Here,” Kirari pulled Sayaka in and gave her a short and sweet kiss that made the secretary hum happily.

“(Y/n),” Sayaka turned with an uncharacteristic pout, sleepy Sayaka was too cute, “come up, you too.”

“Okay, I’m coming.” (Y/n) sat up, allowing Sayaka to clumsily bump into her lips before the secretary fell back against the pillows, content.

“May I have one?” Kirari smirked, leaning over Sayaka’s body between them.

“You may.” (Y/n) had hardly gotten the words out before Kirari swooped in.

“Good night.” Kirari whispered, noting that Sayaka had already fallen back asleep.

“Good Night, Kirari.” (Y/n) smiled back as she wormed back under the covers to snuggle against Sayaka’s back. Kirari slipped back under the covers as well, draping an arm over Sayaka side and one of (Y/n)’s arms to rub them soothingly with her cool, soft skin.

Before long, Kirari and (Y/n) fell asleep along side Sayaka to the sound of bubbling water and the hum of the fish tanks surrounding them.

#kakegurui x reader #kakegurui oneshots #kirari momobami #sayaka igarashi #Kirari momobami x reader #sayaka igarashi x reader #kirasaya #polyamory

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young-dumb-and-vaccinated · 3 years

Text

A Deafened Bard (Stephen Strange x Female!Reader) pt. 2

Doctor Strange and y/n confide their tragic backstories in one another. Y/n struggles with her feelings for him.

Trigger warnings: abusive parenting, use of firearms, discussion of death and grief, mention of alcoholism

"On the outside, always looking in

Will I ever be more than I've always been?

Cause I'm tap, tap, tapping on the glass-"

You stopped yourself before you could indulgently belt out the titular lyric.

"Ew, why was I singing that?" You muttered to yourself. "I don't even like that song."

You knew, subconsciously, that it was because you were trying to avoid what you really wanted to sing. For the first time ever, you had an audience. Someone was paying attention.

"Love of my life, you've hurt me-"

"Oh, come on, butterfingers." He interrupted. "Love of my Life by Freddie Mercury. Give me something hard."

"I wasn't aware it was classic rock trivia night."

"Then why were you staring straight at me while singing?" He smirked.

"Was I?" You cocked your head, expertly deflecting his implication. "I'm so spaced out I don't even know where I'm looking."

"It's Freddie Mercury." He insisted.

"Uh, yes and no." You corrected, drawing on your encyclopedic knowledge of Queen from one particularly weird summer in high school. "While Freddie Mercury wrote the song, it was recorded on a Night at the Opera. Which was accredited to the whole band."

"That's a nitpick," he shook his head. "I'm still right."

You couldn't wear your heart on your sleeve anymore. You could only distract him with 70s glam rock trivia for so long before he started to notice a pattern. Although a sappy love song was in your heart, you sang the anthem of the depressed theater kid.

You were staring straight at him, though. But who wouldn't? You studied his features only for artistic inspiration. His sharp jaw and high, high cheekbones were… inspiring.

You couldn't lie to yourself. You fell and fell hard.

"Butterfingers!" Master Strange called out from the other side of the sanctum. "I need you!"

You dropped your pencil and pushed yourself out from the chair. "Coming!"

You followed the voice into his chambers. This was a new development, you thought. Out of respect for his privacy, you'd never dared to snoop around in his bedroom. But this was practically a written invitation.

The room was spotless. Not a book or a scrap of paper out of place. Nor was there much to look at at all. A handful of picture frames, some magazines from when he was a surgeon, all featuring himself on the cover.

"Butterfingers!" He called again, as if he knew you were about to snoop.

"I'm here!" You yelled back, eyes wandering around the room. "What do you need?"

"I left my watch somewhere in the library!" He sounded disproportionately panicked for what was just a minor inconvenience. "I need you to go get it for me."

"What does it look like?" You asked.

"It's a $27,000 watch." He snapped impatiently. "It looks like one."

"Jesus." You cursed.

"Don't give me that shit, [F/N]." He ordered, slamming his fist down against the sink. "Just do what you're goddamn told."

"Alright, alright!" You put your hands up. "Fine, I'll get it."

You hurried down the stairs and into the library. On the floor between his favorite chair and a stack of musty old books was a slim, silvery watch with a plain black band.

You picked it up and examined it. Apart from the price tag, was there really any reason for him to be so worried about it? He knew exactly where he left it. Did he have reason to believe it wouldn't be there when he returned?

All you needed to do was flip it over to get your answer. You read the inscription on the back.

Time will tell how much I love you -- Christine

You should have known that his massive ego wouldn’t keep the women away forever. Hell, it certainly didn’t deter you. Much uglier douchebags have gotten far prettier girlfriends than they deserved.

You closed your fingers around the watch and sighed. The fantasy you created for yourself, of slowly, deliberately earning his love was shattered. Christine already beat you to it, it seemed. You tried to smother the part of you that resented this person for her exclusive right to Master Strange's affections. You didn't know her, but you loathed her. And you felt filthy for it.

With a heavy heart, you brought the stupid, criminally expensive little timepiece back to its rightful owner.

"Here's your all-important watch, master." You mumbled, placing it on the bedside table.

"I know I told you I would give you space to question things," He said, swiping it from the table and expertly affixing it around his wrist. "But I'd really appreciate it if you didn't question this."

You tried to sound as non-passive-aggressive as you could. You attempted a more forgiving tone, but you couldn't hide your hurt. "It's fine. I don't care."

"I didn't mean to get short with you, [F/N]." His voice softened. "I'm sorry. But this watch-"

"It's fine." You cut him off, peering at the floor.

"It was a gift." He finished anyway.

You felt the lump in your throat rising. You knew what the watch represented and you wanted to smash it to pieces. Along with the sting of rejection, you felt the sting of tears in your eyes. "I know. I saw the engraving."

"She died two years ago." He lowered his head.

Suddenly, all your ill will towards this woman turned into guilt.

"I'm sorry to hear that." You said. "I can't imagine what it's like to lose someone who loved you so much."

"She had agreed to come to a speaking engagement with me. As a second chance, and-" Pain wrapped his voice. He closed his hand tightly around the watch and held it close to his chest. "Have you ever been in love before, [F/N]?"

From the way your heart ached, and how easily the thought of never being with him made you cry, you knew the answer. You'd been avoiding speaking it into being thus far, but you couldn't lie to yourself anymore.

"Yes." You whispered.

"You'll learn soon enough." He muttered. "It only brings more suffering."

The tears finally breached and you tried to blink them away. You didn't know what emotion was causing them: guilt, shame, contempt, anger, sadness-- they were all present.

"Master Strange, I-" you stuttered, tripping over your breath. "I respect what you've gone through, I really do, but it's not fair to take it out on me."

"You're right." He conceded. "I'm sorry. Please, go get some sleep.”

You nodded. “Right.”

You slept as late as you could get away with the next morning. In apprentice terms, that only meant sleeping until eight thirty. Your dailies could wait an extra hour while you laid in bed, feeling like garbage.

You stumbled down the spiral staircase in your pajamas. No bra, no makeup and no effort. You didn’t even run a brush through your hair. Why try, you thought. Why make an effort for the man who would never see you as anything but the help?

When you saw the piano, though, you did a full 180.

In the living area was a French cherry baby grand piano that definitely was not there before. You certainly would have noticed it before. You placed your phone on the counter and approached the new addition.

As if the memories were woven into the very muscles and ligaments of your fingers, you ran down a few octaves of C Major. The keys were smooth as porcelain and the sound that emanated from the instrument was next to heavenly.

A bright orange post-it note was stuck to the music rack.

“Love of my Life”, Queen, A Night at the Opera. 1975

Was this a request, or an admission of wrong? Whatever the case, it made you smile.

"You weren't being entirely honest with me, Butterfingers." He said, randomly materializing behind you.

You turned around on the piano bench and looked up at him. "What was I not honest about?"

"I'm so glad you asked." He sat down on the bench next to you, phone in hand. "Because when you said you used to play piano, you didn't specify you were actually a student prodigy."

Sure enough, on his phone, he was scrolling through your Instagram. Dozens of videos of a much younger [F/N] playing hundreds of different songs, singing with too many vocal runs and doing so with the entire content of her soul behind the music.

"Student prodigy is a bit strong." You turned your head to hide your blush.

He scrolled up and found a picture of a young, zit-faced teenage [F/N] holding an acceptance letter. "Last I checked, Juilliard doesn't give full-ride scholarships to just anyone."

You covered your face with your hands, smothering an embarrassed smile. "God, please. I'd rather you'd found my OnlyFans."

He raised his eyebrows. "As tempting as that sounds, I'd still rather hear your explanation on this. Why did you give up on something you loved?"

You looked at him in surprise. "You really want to know?"

"Well, I told you mine." He playfully nudged you in the side.

You took a deep breath in. "Well, it was about two years ago, now-”

"Cheers to you, [F/N]!" Your best friend Holly raised her glass of champagne in your direction. "Juilliard ain't gonna know what hit ‘em."

"I'll drink to that." You said, bring your own flute up to your lips and taking a swig. You wretched in disgust as the vile liquid ran down your throat. "Or maybe I won't."

"You're gonna have to get used to it." Holly nudged you with her elbow. "I think most professional musicians are alcoholics."

You narrowed your eyes at her. "I don't think that's right."

"Is too." She smirked. "Conductors are mad strict. Abusive even. Drive musicians to drink all the time."

You laughed. "Is everything you know about the world of music from Whiplash?"

"And The Perfection." She added.

"Thank you, Holly." You said, attempting to take another sip of champagne, purely for dramatic effect. "Very cool."

You felt a pair of hands on your shoulders. "Hi, Holly. Enjoying the party?"

Holly took a step back. "Hey, Mrs. [L/N]. Yeah, it's great."

"I hope you don't mind," Your mom said, her fake nice voice eeking through her clenched teeth. "I need to borrow [F/N] for a few minutes."

Holly's face fell. "Sure. I'll catch up with you later, [F/N]."

Your mother tugged you off to the side. With a stressed huff, she began. "Jason is out in the fields with his ROTC friends."

"And what do you want me to do about that?" You asked, knowing her drunk self couldn't read your sarcastic tone.

"Could you go get him and bring him home?" She said, squeezing your upper arm.

"Are you kidding?" You spat.

"[F/N], he's drunk." She scolded. "Do you want him to get another strike on his record?"

"I don't care." You mumbled under your breath. "Have him call an uber. Hell, let him sleep it off in the field. Not my problem."

"You know what he's like when he's drunk." She rationalized. "He gets rowdy. It had better be you."

You tensed up. "No. Holly and I are going to the French Quarter. I don't have time to babysit Jason."

"Just pick him up on your way there?" She pleaded. "It won't take long."

You knew this wasn't going to stop. "Fine, but this is the last time."

You were both dressed far too well to be trekking through the swampy ass nowhere when you should have been fucking your way through the French Quarter. Luckily for your evening plans, all you needed to do was follow the sound of gunshots.

You slammed the car door shut and Holly followed suit. Finding him was the easy part. The hard part was hauling his drunk ass back home.

"Fun's over, shithead." You announced, heels sinking into the sod as you spoke. You didn't have much trouble projecting over the gunfire and getting their attention.

"Shit, [F/N]?" Jason sputtered, so drunk he could barely keep his head straight.

"Holy shit, I didn't even recognize you in that dress." One of his dumb fuck friends added. He jabbed Jason in the side. "Why didn't you tell me your sister's hot?"

"Buster, I-'' You clenched your teeth. "I don't care if you live or die, but my mom needs me to bring Jason home."

"If you get in the car now, we won't have to use the chloroform." Holly added.

Jason scratched the back of his head with the barrel of his gun, then pointed it at you. "You're gonna have to make me."

"Jesus fucking Christ!" You exclaimed, hitting the deck. "What the fuck, Jason!?"

Jason and his dumbass friends laughed. "You should have seen the look on your face, [F/N]!"

"Put down the fucking gun-" You seethed. "And get in the fucking car."

He lowered the gun and looked like he was going to concede. Just when you thought he would cooperate, he stuck it up again. He keeled over in a fit of laughter when you and Holly panicked again.

"Look at them!" He shouted. "They're so fucking scared!"

You knew out in the middle of the swamp, nobody could hear you scream. So you used it to your advantage.

"Jason, you're going in the car, or under it." You raised your voice. "I will mow your drunk ass down like eight day old roadkill right here in this field and you will be LUCKY if anyone finds your bloated, shit-covered remains before the crocodiles get a whiff of you."

That seemed to get his attention.

"Sorry, boys." He pouted. "You heard her."

He had to 'get you' one final time, though. Only that time, the gun went off. Just centimeters from your ear. You clutched the side of your head, trying to drown out the deafening ringing with your screams.

You vaguely remembered Holly pistol-whipping Jason before loading you into the car to drive you to the hospital, leaving him desolate and drunk in the field.

"It was a one-in-a-million shot." The otolaryngologist tried not to sound impressed at what was clearly some kind of anomaly very few got to witness in a medical career. "When the bullet fired, the gunpowder traveled down your ear canal, burning the cells of your auditory nervous system and... singing your eardrum... clean off."

Your eyes widened. "Off?!"

The doctor lowered her head. "I'm sorry, Miss [L/N]. I'm afraid you'll never return to full hearing again."

You didn't want to kill the messenger. You knew she was only doing her job. "Are you fucking kidding me?!"

"If we could do a tympanoplasty, which, given the condition of the drum, is unlikely-" she began. "There would still be no way to fully repair the hair cells along the ear canal."

You took deep breaths to try and quell your simmering rage. "I'm leaving for Juilliard in three months."

"Hearing aid technology has improved significantly over the last decade." She said, a somewhat hopeful upturn in her voice.

That was when your mother decided to join in on the conversation. "Oh, we can't afford that."

You thought you were going to crush your teeth into bits from how tightly your jaw was clenched in fury. "Take it out of Jason's college fund, then."

"Oh, [F/N]." She said as if you had just told the funniest joke imaginable. "Please. That wouldn't be fair to Jason."

"You can afford to send that blithering idiot to the Citadel." You hissed. "You can afford to buy me a hearing aid so I can play piano."

"Beethoven was entirely deaf." Your mom pointed out. "And he became the greatest composer of all time. It's really just mind over matter, sweetie-"

"Sure, that makes perfect sense!" You plastered on a deranged smile, feeling driven to the brink of madness. "I can repair my destroyed eardrum with the power of positive thinking! Jason gets thirty-five thousand dollars a year to play soldier, but I have to just use my imagination."

She covered her face with her hands as if she was being attacked and went into kicked-puppy mode. "Don't be mad at Jason, [F/N]. He didn't mean to hurt you-"

"Fuck this." You said, releasing all your tension in those two words. "Fuck all of this. I'm tired of you defending that chauvinist asshole. The next time you see me will be when one of us is dead."

"Where are you going?!" She wailed.

You snatched your purse from the table and threw it over your shoulder. "I'm moving out."

“Disgraced at age nineteen?" Master Strange said, leaning back on the piano. "Let me guess, you turned to alcohol to cope?"

"You'd think, but actually no." You shook your head. The tone of the conversation had taken a sharp left turn from sadness to dry, apathetic amusement. "I probably would have if I could have afforded it."

"You missed out." He said. "Drinking a whole bottle of eighty year old scotch was definitely the highlight of my grieving period."

You'd never joined the clauses 'Master Strange' and 'drunk off his ass' in the same sentence before then. It was an odd mental picture for sure. One you needed to see to believe.

"I got desperate." You admitted. "Luckily, New Orleans had a lot to offer someone like me, so I didn't have to go far to find people claiming to have answers. But it was all essential oils, incense, binaural beats-"

"I'm sorry," he cut in. "What kind of dickhead suggests binaural beats to someone with only one functioning ear?"

You threw up your hands. "Right? Doesn't make sense. Anyway, I came across a woman named Mistress Fantina and she pointed me in the right direction. How to heal my body through control of my spirit."

He looked at you with that fascination of the human body characteristic of those in the medical field. "It worked, I assume?"

"I figured it out." You shrugged. "But I got so invested in the Mystic Arts that I forgot all about Juilliard. Became a full-time student. Ever since, I never once thought about returning to my old life."

"I suppose if I'd discovered this world because I had lost, say, my ability to perform surgery, it would be hard to leave it behind and return to the operating room." He thought out loud. Sighing, he closed his hand over his watch. "But no matter how medical science evolves, you can't reverse death."

You let the quiet linger for a moment.

#doctor strange #doctor strange x you #doctor strange x reader #stephen strange x reader #doctor stephen strange #stephen strange #dr stephen strange #stephen strange x you #what if #what if marvel #doctor strange supreme #tw guns #tw abusive parent

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siwoline · 3 years

Text

“can we stay like this forever?” — [sjy.]

♫ : spaces by martti franca

word count: 1,901 | angst, masochist

some, if not everyone, surely had a tower moment. a phase when everything seems to go downfall and you had no other choice but to surrender to wherever the universe takes you. some faced everything alone and some found a companion.

in your case, you had jake.

you met each other through a common friend back in high school. it was just a “hey, this is y/n. y/n, this is jake.” type of introduction and you just both went on with your lives separately, not minding each other’s business because you clearly had nothing to do with it. you weren’t interested with him and, on your point of view, he wasn’t too.

but suddenly, you passed by each other’s lives again, when he saw you sitting like a drunk single aunt by the gutter of an abandoned gas station. it was because you told your friends you’ll walk your way home even though your vision was spinning and your head hurt like hell.

you remember, “y/n?” jake mispronounced your name when he saw you then.

and you corrected him even though you’re drunk by saying, “it’s y/n! you stupid!”

“i’m sorry, y/n. do you need something?”

obviously! is this man really stupid? were your thoughts. you were looking at him meaningfully, trying to tell him that he’s unbelievable but he seems to not care about your stares. he just reached for your arms and guided you to wrap them around his broad shoulders.

this man’s caring. what the hell.

as much as you wanted to throw your shoes at jake that time, you just didn’t have the energy to fight and perhaps you wanted to thank him for somehow taking care of you even though you barely know each other.

after that night, you were informed that, apparently, jake studies in the same university and he lives near your pad. and according to your common friend, it’s just a 10-minute ride from yours.

your encounter with him did not stop there because you saw each other again on a party hosted by your friend. the moment you laid eyes at each other, he recognized you right away and walked towards you leaving a girl who’s clearly hitting on him that time.

that night, you two shared stories and even danced with some acquaintances, completely unaware that it was the start of something you didn’t anticipate.

“who’s this?” you said when you picked up the call of someone who’s bugging you at three in the morning, the day after your friend’s party.

that’s when you heard jake mumbling words you cannot decipher because first, it was, again, three in the morning, and second, he was a drunk zombie.

“where are you?” you asked him repetitively and still trying to respond to what he was saying until the bartender took over the phone and told you where he is.

you went to the bar to fetch him. jake looked so wrecked and tired from the world, he’s a complete mess when you saw him lying on the bar’s couch. when you went to him and woke him up, he looked at you and there you saw his stares. his intense eyes looked like he wanted someone to save him or just someone who’s willing to hear his stories.

and so you did.

it was almost everyday, at three in the morning, when you go out to see each other at the gas station where you first met as acquaintances. you’d bring snacks from your stock and he’d bring drinks bought from the convenience store he’ll pass by on his way to you.

you’d talk about everyday, how things went wrong and how things are going. you’d tell him that the only constant thing in the world is life fucking you up and his boisterous laugh would disturb anyone and anything near. he’d tell you how pretty the night sky is and how badly he wanted to travel just to see its end and you’d agree and tell jake you’ll go with him.

no one knew of the times you’re together, not even the friend who introduced you to each other. it was just a moment between you two, and you hate to admit but there are times that by thinking of it, the thought of seeing jake, made you feel things.

and god, as well as jake, knows how badly you hate feeling tickling emotions, those of the positive kind, because you know that there’s definitely an aftermath.

“how’s your brother?” he randomly asked when you were just talking about an online post you shared with each other through chat.

“he’s doing well. you want to see him next weekend?” then he nodded as a response.

it was not just you who grew fond of jake, some of your family members, only those whom he met, did as well. especially your little brother. they’d play games when you and jake would come over to your grandfather’s house where your brother temporarily lives. they would also talk about boy stuff, completely excluding you from the conversation, and you can see the both of them enjoying their time.

and, annoyingly, again, this made you feel more at ease with jake.

“do you still drink?” you asked meaninglessly.

“not anymore,” he shrugged, as if saying he doesn’t know why.

“as i am,” that’s when he looked at you, confused. “i don’t know. maybe i’m healed,” and you laughed with the absurdity of the thought.

but jake smiled with what you said, “that can be true.”

“what about you? you’re finally moved on from the woman you cried for when i first fetched you at the bar?”

he turned his head away, obviously feeling shy. “that was more than a year ago, y/n.” his lips are forming a pout. “plus, i’m being comforted in a much healthier way.”

you were shocked by his response. “you’re seeing someone again?”

he shook his head and said, “i just found comfort in someone’s presence.”

“isn’t that the same?”

he looked at you and said, “i don’t want to intervene in their peace.”

then all of a sudden, that was your last encounter with jake. you didn’t hear any news about him or his whereabouts for a good six months. when you were told that he’ll be attending a seminar, you woke up late which led to not seeing him around the campus ever since. just like that, jake was nowhere to be found.

and you cannot believe why jake’s no-show bothered you so much.

you thought of him almost everyday, thinking whether he’s doing fine or coping from his heartbreak and problems. you thought of how he’s doing in school because you haven’t seen his shadow from anywhere. you were dead worried of him yet no one knows that you still are.

“y/n, later! don’t pretend to forget, you brat,” you laughed and nodded as a response.

your friend is having a party tonight and you prepared for it the moment you arrived home. wearing the simplest attire, almost looking as if you’re not interested to go, you went to the party.

the moment you stepped foot at the bar, you were reminded of several things. and definitely one of them is jake.

weird how the loud bass and taste of beer feels so nostalgic for you. was it the long period of time that passed since you decided to quit drinking? or was it, again, him?

you shook your head, trying to brush off the thought you have in mind. you took your fifth glass of cuervo and looked at your wristwatch only to see that it’s about three in the morning. you stood up, with your head quite heavy, and went to find your friend so you could bid good bye and leave.

only to be stopped at your tracks because a pair of eyes are staring at you intensely. it’s jake.

it was quite a moment when you stared at each other but you decided to pretend as if you didn’t see anything. you’re confused at what you’re feeling at the very moment because, for you, you’re not supposed to feel anger just because he didn’t show up nor feel as if you’re longing for his presence.

“y/n,” you heard him call your name and a cold palm touched your skin when he held your hands to stop you from walking away.

you faced him, trying to show a smile. and there you saw a cleaner look of jake, a more mature one you must say. you looked at his eyes and you were surprised with what you’re seeing. your smile grew wider, more genuine this time, because he definitely looks happier now.

“hey. long time no see,” was all you can utter.

“y/n, i’m sorry—”

“look, i have to go home. the apartment’s gate,” you were cut off by him telling you that, “there’s no curfew and you always have a key with you. you don’t forget that. you’re afraid to get locked out.”

right. of course, jake knows that.

you’re afraid to get locked out, you’re afraid to be left behind. without a word, without any notice. you find it hard to forget, especially the moments dear to you, the moments that kept you warm. he knows that but why did he leave was all over your head.

“i have to go,” you said and let go of his hand but he didn’t budge. you kept moving and telling him to, “let go, jake.”

“y/n, i like you.” was what jake needed to say to make you stop from struggling.

he reached for your right arm and now his intense stares feel as if it can see your soul. and what happens now is the very thing you’re afraid of.

“i like you, i love you, i,” he sighed in frustration. “the last time we saw each other, it was you i was referring to. it was you whom i do not want their peace to be ruined. god, i even wanted to talk to you when you were first introduced to me. i wanted to hear more of your stories, i wanted to be even just a small part of your life, y/n.”

“i was so afraid of telling you because i know you fear this the most. you fear feeling things, you fear giving and risking all that you have, you fear the warmth of what love could give, y/n. i know that and you’ve always reminded me about that.” he continued.

“then why are you telling me this now?” i said, almost shouting because of how frustrated i am with what he’s saying. “why are you telling me you love me after leaving me, jake?”

“because,” he paused, looking both tired and frustrated of what’s happening right now. “because i can never get over you. i tried but i can’t and maybe because i do not even want to, y/n. i hate—”

“i fear commitments, jake.”

he looked at you, stared even, and smiled as if he just got reminded of a detail he forced himself to set aside.

still looking at you, with eyes begging you to let out what you really do feel, he said, “you can take your time. please, just allow me to—”

“i fear commitments, jake,” you repeated what you said. “what’s so hard to understand—”

“then just have me by your side, like old times, please.”

#siwoline #enhypen and heartbreaks #enhypen & heartbreaks #jake #sim jaeyun #jake imagines #enhypen #enhypen jake imagines #enhypen jake #enhypen jake angst #sim jaeyun imagines #enhypen jake au #enhypen au #enhypen imagines #enhypen oneshots #enhypen scenarios #enhypen drabbles

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lumosandnoxwriting · 3 years

Text

Forever Just Isn’t Enough - George Weasley

Title: Forever Just Isn’t Enough Pairing: George x Fem!Reader Warnings: NSFW!! Fingering, female receiving oral, unprotected sex, dirty talk, cockwarming, feeling full kink ?? again idk if that’s a real thing but oh well Extra Warnings: major character death!! Minor character death. Slightly alcoholism, unhealthy coping mechanisms, grief and dealing with grief, one comment that could allude to suicide, mentions of death and infant loss, mentions of blood and blood loss. Mentions of injuries. Mentions of childbirth. Summary: just when things seem like they can finally fall into place, everything nearly falls apart. Will George and Y/N really get their forever? Or will their dreams crumble around them? A/N: summary is shit but here it is! Here is its, the mammoth that is good girl part 3!! This fic has been nearly a month in the making and it is officially the longest thing I’ve ever written!! It’s 23k words so buckle up! This really is the final part, and I have definitely become attached to this universe. Everything in italics is flashbacks!! I would like to give a huge thanks to @pineapplesandpinas who left a reply on one of my posts that actually inspired this fic! I’d also like to give a huge thanks to the person who gave me some editing help and is coincidentally the person who requested this in the first place, I hope you like it!! As always feedback is welcome! Tags: @feltondarling @pandaxnienke @raerae27 @allforthexgame @pigwidgexn @hufflrpuffforfred @wand3ringr0s3 @whiz-bangs78 @gcdric @starlightweasley @vogueweasley @theweasleysredhair @dracoswhore007 @lexymoniqu @amourtentiaa @mischiefisbeingmanaged Read Part 1 here, Read Part 2 here

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Y/N’s chest heaves with deep breathes as she runs down a corridor, watching walls crumble as they get hit with stray curses. She used to be able to walk through Hogwarts with her eyes closed and know exactly where she was in any given moment. But now her heart hammers in her chest as she stands at the junction of two different hallways, unsure of where they’ll lead her. Y/N can hear footsteps barreling towards her, and in a moment of panic she heads to the left, gripping her wand tightly in her hand.

Her legs carry her as fast as they can down the hallway as she silently prays to find someone she knows. By the time she clambered into the room of requirement from the passageway that starts at the Hogs Head Inn preparations for the impending battle were already in full swing and the Order was spread out around the entire castle. Y/N had caught a flash of red hair as she helped Cho Chang cast a protection spell, but by the time she turned her head it was already gone. Death Eaters reached the castle nearly 30 minutes ago, and Y/N has been on her own the entire time, casting curses and spells at them as she searched for Ginny or Hermione. For George. She’s already seen a few bodies lying still on the floor, and her heart is in her stomach with the thought that George could be one of them. Laying lifeless in some hallway all by himself.

Y/N starts to slow down as a wall approaches and she can hear her heartbeat pounding in her ears. A dead end. The footsteps behind her persist, and she has no choice but to stop as she reaches the end of the hallway, turning around to face her fate. She raises her wand as she looks at the person coming up towards her, but it falters slightly as a familiar face stops just a few feet away. “Adrian?”

Adrian grins as he takes a few steps closer to Y/N, but it’s not the same fond smile he’d shared with her many times. It’s wicked, evil almost and Y/N tries to swallow the lump that’s suddenly formed in her throat as memories of the last time she’d seen Adrian come swirling to the forefront of her mind.

Y/N turns around when she feels a tap on her shoulder, a wide smile on her face. Seven years of hard work has all lead to this: graduation day. She feels absolutely euphoric, and when she turns around and spots Adrian she pulls him into a hug – too excited to second guess herself. It’s the first time they’ve hugged in nearly half a year and while it feels familiar, it’s mostly awkward.

After the conversation Y/N and George had on the train ride back to school from winter break Y/N really made a conscious effort to start a new life with George. The way they had been operating as a couple was only leading them towards disaster, and they were both willing to do anything to avoid that possibility.

The main change they made together was to spend more time together as a couple that didn’t involve getting rid of their clothes. Instead of sitting with each other’s friends during meals all the time, they decided to sit on their own a few times a week so they would get a chance to just talk to each other and reconnect after a crazy day. Y/N started to spend the night over in George’s dorm with him, and while they did have sex most of the time, they took the time to just lay there and hold each other too. While Y/N was busy doing her homework in the library George would just sit there with her, sometimes working on stuff for the joke shop, but sometimes just sitting there and watching her work.

But by far the biggest change was one that rested in Y/N’s hands alone, she needed to set new boundaries with Adrian. Her friends had become her security blanket over the years, their friendship began on that first train ride to Hogwarts, when they were all nervous and scared. She relied on them heavily to be her emotional support, and when George came into her life Y/N made no efforts to change any of that. Y/N had thought George could just slip into their friend group as if he had always been there, but it quickly became clear that wasn’t the case.

Her relationship with Adrian was definitely the biggest point of contention in her and George’s relationship, and was thus the one thing that really changed. It was common for her and Adrian to be physically affectionate towards each other. An arm around the shoulders, a tight hug after a long day, even the occasional hand holding. Y/N hadn’t realized how that might hurt George, and so she put a stop to it immediately. On the occasions where she did sit with her friends at meals she stuck by Daphne’s side, instead of falling into her usual seat next to Adrian. She stopped wearing his Quidditch jumpers to their matches and she made sure to quiet his flirtatious comments, reminding him that she has a boyfriend now, and comments like that make her and George uncomfortable.

So now being close with Adrian feels too close, and while he tries to linger in her grasp Y/N pulls away with a tight grin. “I can’t believe it, we’re finally done!”

“This is the last chance we have, Y/N,” Adrian starts, placing his hands on her hips. Before Y/N can shake off his grasp Adrian lurches forward and presses their lips together.

Y/N moves her face away and tries to push Adrian off of her. “Adrian, stop. I’m with George, you know that.”

“But you could be with me. You should be with me,” Adrian tells her, tightening his grip on her hips. “That’s how it was supposed to be, Y/N. Marcus and Daphne would get married, we would get married. Our kids would grow up together, we’d stand on the same platform we met on holding hands as we send our kids off to school. I love you. And you were supposed to love me too.”

Before Y/N has a chance to respond, a familiar hand is grabbing Adrian’s shoulder and pulling him away from Y/N. George stands in between them, and while Y/N can’t see George’s face, she can tell from the way his back muscles are tensed that he’s pissed.

“What the hell are you doing, Pucey?” George spits. “Y/N doesn’t feel that way about you. She never has and she never will. If this wasn’t supposed to be a special day for her I’d knock your fucking lights out like I’ve wanted to since November. So, get the fuck out of here before I make you get the fuck out of here.”

Y/N wraps her arms around George’s neck as he turns around, watching Adrian stalk off over his shoulder.

“Long time no see, Y/N,” he taunts, keeping his wand pointed at her.

Y/N tightens her grip on her wand, keeping it at his chest. Their friendship may have ended in disaster, but she hopes that the years of memories they had before that keep him from doing anything. Adrian may not be the person she thought he was, but Y/N doesn’t want to hurt him. “How’ve you been?” she asks, trying to keep her voice even.

Adrian scoffs. “Don’t act like you care about me now, Y/N. You had your chance to be with me. And you gave it up, for what? True Love?” his voice is mocking, condescending and it makes Y/N’s stomach turn. “But where’s Weasley now? When you need him most?” Adrian’s eyes fall from Y/N’s face to her neck and she lets out a gasp as he places his wand on her chest and lifts up the end of her necklace with it. The tip of his wand is now directly in front of her neck, and a cold sweat runs down her back. “Still wearing this cheap necklace, I see. If you were mine you’ d be dripping with diamonds and pearls. You’d want for nothing.”

“All I want is George,” Y/N answers firmly. Y/N hasn’t taken the necklace George gave her for their first Christmas together off since the day he put it on her neck. It’s like a promise ring, it’s George’s promise of forever, and in these times she’s needed it now more than ever. “So, go head and kill me, or Crucio me, or do whatever you want. But I’m gonna die thinking about George, I’m going to die loving George. And I hope that knowledge drives you crazy for the rest of your life.” Y/N closes her eyes as Adrian’s mouth opens, getting ready to cast her own curse. But before either of them can say anything a familiar voice is casting a curse of their own.

“Stupefy!” George shouts, his wand aimed directly at Adrian’s back.

Y/N’s eyes pop back open as Adrian’s body slumps to the ground, and there George is, standing just a few feet away, his stance firm and his wand raised high. Tears start to spill down her cheeks as she steps over Adrian’s unconscious body before Y/N is running at full speed towards her boyfriend and jumping into his open arms. “Oh my god Georgie,” she sobs, pressing her face into his neck.

“Hi teacup,” he chuckles, wrapping his arms firmly around her waist. He can hear her laugh at the nickname, and George presses a kiss to Y/N’s temple. “I’ve been looking all over for you, darling. I’ve been losing my fucking mind.”

Y/N pulls away from George’s neck so she can kiss him desperately. It’s been far too long since she last saw him, and Y/N can’t help but think about the last time George held her like this.

“Y/N! Grab my hand!” George shouts, reaching out to her.

Y/N shouts a curse at a snatcher as she runs towards George, gripping onto his hand tightly with her own. She shuts her eyes tight as George pulls her into his chest, and it feels like all the air is being sucked from her lungs as George disapperates them to safety.

“Fucking hell,” Y/N groans as she lands on her back in the middle of a field, George landing right on top of her. George’s fingers dig into her sides and Y/N laughs as she pushes at his shoulders. “Get off of me you oaf I’m suffocating!”

They both giggle as George rolls off of Y/N, settling on his back next to her. “Are you okay, teacup?”

Y/N takes a few deep breaths, trying to find the answer to George’s question. Official Order business put them in the middle of some forest on the outskirts of Essex, and just before they were leaving they ran into a band of snatchers. They ran and fought them for nearly 20 minutes before George had managed to take them to wherever they are now.

“I’m okay,” Y/N answers honestly a few minutes later. She turns onto her side so she can look down at George. “Are you doing okay? Where are we?”

“Aunt Muriel’s house is about 100 yards north of us, we used to play Quidditch out here when we’d visit her as kids. It’s the only place I could think of that would be safe and secluded.” George reaches up and tucks a stray piece of hair behind Y/N’s ear. “I’m doing okay. Better now that I’m here with you.”

Y/N smiles at George sadly and leans down to kiss him softly. After the ministry fell Y/N left her training program at St. Mungo’s to work for the Order full time, and she was placed in a safe house up in Wales. Weasleys’ Wizard Wheezes has been closed for weeks, and Fred and George have turned it into Potterwatch Headquarters. It’s now early November, and Y/N hasn’t seen George since the beginning of August at Bill and Fleur’s wedding.

“I wish I could come home,” she says quietly, running her fingers through George’s hair. He hasn’t been home for Molly to cut it and it’s starting to get long again. “It’s so lonely up in Wales without you. Feels like I can’t get a proper nights sleep without you in bed next to me.”

George grabs Y/N’s chin and pulls her down into a searing kiss. “Our bed is cold without you, teacup. Your pillow doesn’t even smell like you anymore.” He reaches up then and untucks her necklace from the collar of her shirt. “Still wearing this old thing?” he teases, toying with the charms. “I should get you something new, flashier. Even with Diagon Alley closed we’ve been doing some mail order business. And I’ve got all that savings. Could get you something nice.”

Y/N scoffs and slaps George on the chest playfully. “I love my necklace, Georgie. You act like you still don’t wear that stupid teapot pin every day,” she teases. “Teapots are kinda our thing and I love that. Besides you should spend your savings on something important. Like a new broom or something.”

“Or an engagement ring, or a wedding, or a house,” George muses with a grin. “I’m gonna end up spending it on you either way, Y/N. You take your pick.”

“Stop, don’t say that,” Y/N responds, her cheeks flushing pink.

George pulls Y/N onto his chest, wrapping his arms around her waist. “I promised you forever, didn’t I, Y/N? Once this war is over I’m going to put the fattest diamond money can buy on your ring finger and officially make you mine forever. Got it?”

“It doesn’t have to be the fattest diamond, just something simple and classy,” Y/N mumbles, pressing her face into George’s chest. She can feel his laughter rumble in his chest, and she smiles against his shirt. “I wish we could just lay here forever.”

“Me too,” George responds quietly, pressing a kiss to the top of her head. “I love you. So much that it hurts sometimes. You know that, right?”

Y/N looks up at George, a look of concern on her features. “Of course, George. I love you too.”

“I just,” George pauses to clear his throat, needing to choke back the rush of emotion he’s suddenly feeling. “I need you to know, how much you mean to me. In case, in case this is the last time you ever see me. This war, everything is so uncertain. I could die, I just-,” George’s words cut off as he suddenly sobs, and hot tears start to roll down his cheeks.

“Georgie,” Y/N coos, pressing a kiss to the underside of his jaw. She rolls off of him then onto her back, pulling George so he’s half laying on top of her with his head resting on her chest. She starts to run a hand through his hair, while the other rubs his back soothingly. “You can’t think about stuff like that, okay? I know things are scary out there but we gotta stay focused on the positive. That fat diamond and the big wedding and the house. The dog, the chickens, the babies. How am I gonna get my six little ginger babies if you die? Hm?”

“Six?” George asks with a sniffle. “I thought we agreed on four.”

“Yeah well I’ve had a lot of time to think while I’ve been on my own and I changed my mind,” Y/N chuckles. “Either way you have to stay alive in order to give me all that. So promise me George, that you’ll stay alive. That you’ll fight hard, for me. For you. For our ginger babies.”

George picks his head up and pulls Y/N’s face down to his, kissing her slowly and with so much love it makes his head dizzy. “I promise. Forever.”

That moment was already six months ago, but to Y/N it’s felt like a lifetime, so she hugs him a bit tighter, trying to convey six months’ worth of feelings and sentiments into one embrace. Time is not on their side, and while Y/N would happily stand here in George’s embrace for the next few weeks, if they both plan on staying alive they can’t linger too long.

“Are you okay? Are you hurt?” Y/N asks, pulling away slightly so she can properly look at George. There’s dust and debris all over his face, she doesn’t see any blood, and as her hands roam around his torso and arms she can’t feel any bandages and he doesn’t wince at all.

George chuckles and cups Y/N’s face in one of his hands. “I’m absolutely fine, teacup. Not a scratch, I promise. Can’t give you those six ginger babies like I promised if I’m hurt, can I?”

“It’s seven now,” Y/N mumbles, pressing her face into his chest. “And I want a sheep too.”

“And a sheep? That’s it, that’s where I draw the line,” George teases, pressing a kiss to the top of her head. “What about you? Are you okay, Y/N? I thought Adrian. I thought Adrian was gonna kill you.”

Y/N shudders at the thought of what might have happened and looks up at George. There’s so much that’s happened since they last spoke, so much she needs to tell him. But now is certainly not the time or place for it. Once they get through this night they’ll have the rest of their lives to be together, heal together. “I’m doing alright. Better now that I’ve seen you. Have you seen anyone else?”

George shakes his head. “Fred and I got separated a bit ago, I saw him with Percy not too long ago, just before I found you. Ginny was on bridge duty with Neville and Seamus so who knows where she ended up. Dad and Mum were in the Great Hall when I left them, and I haven’t seen Ron, Hermione or Harry since the preparations began. But honestly I haven’t been paying attention too much. I’ve been trying to find you, teacup. I was worried when you didn’t show up in the room of requirement.”

“I was on duty, with Tonks. By the time we got the memo and got over here stuff was already going on, people were running around and making preparations and stuff. I tried to find you, but Cho needed my help. I’ve been running around this damn castle trying to find you,” Y/N explains.

Just then a wall somewhere near them collapses, and George covers Y/N’s head with his body. George kisses Y/N again as the dust around them settles, needing to feel close to her for another moment. “I love you. I love you. I love you,” he murmurs, pressing a brief kiss to her lips between each set of words. His eye catches the shine of her necklace and George reaches up, feeling the charms between his fingertips. “Just a little bit longer until we can have our forever, yeah?”

“As long as you don’t die on me,” Y/N tries to tease, digging her fingers into George’s shoulders. The fear bubbling in her stomach creeps into her voice, and she rubs her thumb over the teapot pin stuck to the lapel of George’s jacket, needing to ground herself with something familiar. “You can’t die on me, George.” Y/N can feel tears running down her cheeks, but she doesn’t move to wipe them away, not wanting to let go of George, even for a second. “I can’t live without you.”

“You’re my everything,” George murmurs, cupping Y/N’s cheek so he can brush away some of her tears with his thumb. “And you’re never getting rid of me. Got that?”

Y/N nods and leans up on her tiptoes to press one last kiss to George’s mouth. “I’ll see you on the other side, yeah?”

“I wouldn’t miss it for the world.”

Y/N runs as fast as her legs will carry her back to the Great Hall. It’s been hours since she saw George and her hands haven’t stopped shaking since Voldemort started to speak to them, urging them to stop fighting and collect their dead. George could be one of those dead and even though Y/N’s eyes are blurry from the tears she’s shedding, she doesn’t stop to wipe them away. She feels like she can’t breathe, and it has nothing to do with the fact that she’s running. Y/N knows she won’t be able to properly breathe until she sees George again, so she just keeps moving.

Her legs are on fire when she reaches the Great Hall and as she pushes the heavy wooden door open her legs finally come to a screeching halt. There are makeshift gurneys all over the floor, some covered, some not. But Y/N is sure the one thing they have in common is the fact that there’s a dead body laying on top of it. She tries not to let herself linger on their faces too long, just trying to spot a shock of red hair.

That’s when she sees it. The Weasley family is at the other end of the Great Hall, standing around one of the gurneys. Y/N can see Bill and Fleur clutching each other, and everyone has tears in their eyes. She can’t see who’s laying on the ground, but as she lets her eyes pass over everyone a gut-wrenching sob leaves her throat as one thing becomes clear. It’s one of the twins. Whichever one is still alive has their back towards her with their head bowed, so she has no idea who it is.

Y/N’s knees quiver as she forces herself to walk over there, bile rising up her throat. He had promised. George had promised her forever. Had promised her that he’d stay alive. Had promised to spend the rest of his life loving her. They had planned out their entire life, and now that may be all gone.

“George. George, please,” Y/N chokes out as she approaches, her legs feeling like jelly. Whoever it is finally turns around, and Y/N takes her first full deep breath in what feels like forever.

“Teacup,” George cries as Y/N launches herself onto him, his arms wrapping around her waist to hold her close. He presses his face into her neck and just sobs, his shoulders shaking from the force of his tears.

Y/N starts to shush George and rub his back, trying desperately to soothe him. It has always been Fred and George. The only person she ever had to share George with was Fred and she never minded a bit. Fred and George were the most dynamic duo the Wizarding World has ever seen, destined to live out the rest of their days making the world laugh and causing chaos wherever they go. But now it’ll be just George, and Y/N has no idea how to make that okay.

Fred and Y/N certainly had their issues. Years of hating someone will do that to you, and when she and George started dating it became a silent agreement between them to be civil. But now, looking at Fred’s pale face over George’s shoulder, Y/N can feel her momentary relief rush out of her body, and overwhelming sadness takes its place as fresh hot tears start to roll down her cheeks.

Her and Fred had just barely started to come together when the war started, and now they’ll never have that chance again.

“He’s fine you know,” Fred comments as he comes to stand next to Y/N. “You’re looking at him as if he’s going to fall apart into a million tiny pieces with a hard gust of wind.”

Y/N chuckles, and finally looks away from George so she can look up at Fred. Bill and Fleur’s wedding is in full swing, and while Y/N knows this is supposed to be a time to celebrate, a rare moment of sunshine in the darkness of the Wizarding World, panic settled deep in her stomach the moment she stumbled into the Burrow with Ron and saw George lying on the couch, bleeding out of his head and it hasn’t left since. Had the curse been aimed half a centimeter to the left they’d be at a funeral right now, not a wedding. Molly had managed to heal George up fine, and he’s been his usual jovial self over the few days it’s been since his injury, but Y/N can’t help but still worry.

“It makes me feel better,” Y/N admits honestly, letting her eyes find George again. “I’m afraid that if I look away for too long he’ll just disappear. That all my fears will be confirmed and there will forever be a George sized hole in my heart and my life.” Y/N swallows thickly, trying to push away the tears threatening to spill over her cheeks. “He could have died, and I truly wouldn’t know what to do with myself if that happened.”

“I thought he was dead,” Fred says after a few moments of silence, surprising Y/N. “When Dad and I got back he asked where George was, and no one said anything. Remus, Harry, they all just looked at us. I figured he was dead. That’s why they wouldn’t tell us. There was so much blood when we got in there, I actually thought he was dead. And then he moved, and it felt like I could breathe again.”

Y/N worries her bottom lip between her teeth as she watches George fiddle with the gauze wrapped around his head. She wants to just go over there and slap his hands away and remind him he has to keep it clean if he wants it to heal, a conversation she already had to have with him this morning after she found him sipping coffee in the kitchen with his toothbrush sticking out of the side of his head.

“It’s my fault. I wasn’t even supposed to go. But Tonks is pregnant, and she shouldn’t be putting her life on the line like that. Not even for blimin’ Harry Potter. George tried to convince me not to go. Said he’d worry about me too much if I was out there.” Y/N shrugs, taking a long sip of champagne. “Maybe if I had stayed here like I was supposed to he would have been able to dodge the curse, or he’d have been focused enough to send Snape out of the sky before he even got a chance to hurt George.”

Fred nudges Y/N with his elbow so she’ll look up at him. “You like, really love him, don’t you?”

Y/N rolls her eyes. “Really? It took George almost dying for you to realize that? Figured your first clue would have been all the times you heard us having sex. Or maybe the fact that I’ve been living with you guys for over a year now.”

“Okay, no need to be nasty,” Fred huffs. “Obviously I know you guys are in love with each other or whatever. But you’re like really in it, yeah? For the long haul. Thought maybe you guys shouting about how you’re going to be together forever was just some weird sex thing.”

“I mean it is a weird sex thing,” Y/N tells him, laughing as he grimaces. “But it’s more than that too obviously. There’s no person on this planet I’d rather be with than George. Or who I love more than George. He’s my everything, Fred. I’m not going to hurt him, I promise.”

“Better not,” Fred mumbles with a scoff. “I’ll curse you into next week if you do, bloody girl or not.”

Y/N can hear the smile in Fred’s voice, but before she gets a chance to respond George is heading over towards them, looking far too pleased with himself.

“Look at this, my brother and my girlfriend getting along, how cute,” he teases, wrapping his arms around Y/N’s waist. She reaches up to fix his bandage where it slipped, and her gentle touch makes his knees feel weak. “Just in time too. Be a bit awkward for Fred to be my best man if you two hate each other still.”

“Who said I’d want to be your best man anyway, git?” Fred jokes. “All this wedding crap is for the birds.”

George rolls his eyes fondly, pressing a kiss to the top of Y/N’s head. “Fine, I’ll just ask Ron or Harry or Lee. Maybe even Charlie. You’re not the only man for the job, Freddie.”

“But I’m the best man for it,” Fred responds, causing both Y/N and George to groan at his lame joke. “Try and replace me as your best man again and you’ll never hear the end of my cheesy jokes, moron.”

“No need to be feisty, I was just playing. Of course, you’re the only man for the job.”

Now Fred will never get to be the best man at their wedding. Or be there when their children are born. Or have children of his own. Just like how Y/N and George planned out their lives, he and Fred had done the same. Buying houses next to each other so they never had to travel far to see the other. They both wanted to have a boy first, close in age, so they each had someone to hand the joke shop down to. But in the blink of an eye all of that has changed, and Y/N doesn’t know if George will ever be the same again.

“You’re okay, George. It’s all gonna be okay,” Y/N coos, just wanting to calm him down. She presses a few kisses to the side of his face slowly, just letting him know that she’s there. Her arms wind around his neck as George’s grip tightens on her waist and she just hugs him tightly.

Y/N hears someone sob behind her, and she releases George so he can pull Ron into a bone crushing hug. She pulls Ginny into a hug next, letting the younger girl rest her head on her shoulder. Y/N isn’t officially a Weasley, not by any means, but this family has shown her nothing but love and welcomed her with open arms and she wants to do everything she can to help them through this. She and Hermione lock eyes, and Y/N can tell by the way the other girl is hovering on the edge of the circle with her hand on Ron’s shoulder she feels the same way.

Harry is hovering just behind Hermione, but instead of coming closer like Y/N expects he turns on his heel and heads out of the Great Hall. Y/N knows that can only mean one thing. This battle is far from over, and she hugs Ginny just a little tighter, hoping it gives them both the strength to keep fighting.

The sun is already high in the sky when everyone makes it back to The Burrow. They’re living in a new world, a world that will never be plagued by Voldemort’s darkness, but it seems darkness of other kinds has already started to take its place. 50 people lost their lives that night alone, not to mention the countless others who’ve been lost along the way. Death has touched many families in the Wizarding World, and everyone can feel its burden as they collapse into chairs at the kitchen table.

Molly starts worrying about food and making everyone tea, while George shuffles up the stairs without bothering to say anything. They all had lingered in the Great Hall for as long as they could, not wanting to leave Fred’s body there alone. It wasn’t until people from St. Mungo’s showed up to take away the dead that Molly and Arthur suggested they all head home, and Bill and Charlie had to practically drag George away from Fred. He barely even looked at anyone as they started to apperate home, and when Y/N tried to grab his hand he shoved her off.

Y/N tried not to take it personally, obviously George is going through the hardest moment of his life, but she couldn’t help but feel a little hurt. Her and George are supposed to be there for each other through everything, and it makes her chest ache that in the time where he needs people the most he’s pushing her away.

“He’ll come around,” Charlie whispers, nudging Y/N’s knee with his. She finally looks away from the staircase, trying to return his warm smile. “Fred and,” he starts, pausing to clear his throat. “George is tough, probably the toughest guy I know, and I’ve seen some things in Romania. He just needs a bit of time.”

“Thanks, Charlie.” Y/N takes a sip of her tea, just needing something to distract herself. It’s still fairly hot and the liquid burns the roof of her mouth, but the uncomfortable feeling of her singed tongue is a welcome distraction from the pain in her chest, and Y/N takes another sip.

“Y/N dear, why don’t you go ahead and owl your parents? I’m sure they’re waiting to hear from you,” Molly suggests, before turning back to whatever she has cooking on the stove.

Y/N rests her mug back on the table and plays with the sleeves of her jumper, trying to fight the tears that threaten to spill over her cheeks. “They’re um. They died actually. About three months ago now I think.” The kitchen goes still, and Y/N drops her gaze to the table as everyone turns to look at her. “They wouldn’t let me move them to a safe house, they kept going on about how they weren’t afraid of Voldemort, that they weren’t going to let him force them out of their house. But when death eaters come knocking you either join or die, so.”

Her parents may have refused to be moved to a safe house, but they allowed Y/N to set up an undetectable communication system, so they could at least keep in touch. When her parents went more than eight hours without responding to her last message Y/N started to freak out, and she convinced Remus to go with her to check on them. They were sitting on the couch as if they had simply fallen asleep together, but Y/N could tell something much sinister had happened. She managed to find their house elf Marjorie hiding in the garden shed, and she told Y/N everything that had happened. How people in masks had shown up and when her parents refused to leave with them jets of green light came from their wands. Y/N ended up being called away on a mission, and her parents were buried in the small cemetery at the end of their road, with no one in attendance but the grave digger.

Y/N can feel arms wrap around her, and she presses her face into Ginny’s neck finally letting herself cry. There wasn’t proper time for her to mourn her parents, not in the middle of the war, and as Ginny squeezes her tight Y/N finally lets the emotions that have been building inside of her for the past three months spill out. “They were my only family. And now they’re just gone and I’m all alone.”

“You’re not alone,” Ginny coos quietly, rubbing her back. “We’re your family too.”

George barely gets out of bed for days. The only times he moves are to shuffle to the loo or when Y/N or Molly is forcing him to drink water or eat something. His eyes are blank, lifeless and Y/N hasn’t heard him speak since the battle. He doesn’t even make sounds when he cries anymore, the tears just run down his face as he takes shaky breaths.

And as much as it pains Y/N to see George like this, pains them all to see him like this they just let him be. Of course, they all feel Fred’s death. But no one, not even Y/N can fathom what Fred’s death feels like to George. So they let him lay in Fred’s old bed, stopping in to check on him periodically throughout the day and talk to him even though he never talks back. And every night before she crawls into George’s old bed Y/N is sure to kiss George on the top of his head and whisper how much she loves him before going to sleep alone.

The first day they actually force him out of bed is the day of Fred’s funeral. Bill and Charlie pick him up under the armpits and deposit him in the bathroom where Y/N is waiting, situating him in the empty tub. Y/N gives them both an appreciative smile before they leave, and as soon as the door is shut tight behind them she turns to George.

“Gotta get you undressed, okay bub?” she asks softly, kneeling down next to the tub. George keeps his eyes facing forward but gives a little nod, and Y/N takes it as her cue to get him undressed. Once she’s gotten rid of his clothes Y/N lets the tub start to fill up with water, and she runs her hand through his hair, scratching at his scalp as they wait for it to finish.

Y/N washes George quickly, just talking to him about whatever things come to mind. At one-point George reaches up and cups her cheek and Y/N can’t help but lean into his touch. It’s the first contact he’s initiated since they left Hogwarts, and it makes butterflies erupt in her stomach.

Once George is clean Y/N drains the tub and uses a spell to dry George off before pulling a fresh pair of boxers up his legs. “Your suits in your room. Do you want me to get Bill and Charlie or will you be okay going on your own with me?”

All George does is make a noise in the back of his throat, but he starts to stand up then, so Y/N lets him move, following behind him back into his and Fred’s old room. Molly is standing in the hallway, and she and Y/N share a hopeful look before they disappear into the room. This is the most life George has had in him since Fred’s death, and Y/N hopes this means they’re on the road to recovery.

“I got you a new suit,” Y/N tells him as he takes a seat on his bed and she heads over to the wardrobe to grab it from where it’s hanging. Her and Molly had gone to the flat above Wheezes the day before to grab some things for the both of them, but the main thing they needed was something for George to wear. The only formal clothes he has at the Burrow are the dress robes he wore to the Yule Ball, so they needed to get him something.

But as they examined George’s closet they mostly found t-shirts and sweaters, nothing proper for him to wear at a funeral. Turns out the only suits George owns are the few he rotates between for work, and when Molly had reached in to grab one Y/N put her hand out to stop her. Because all of those suits have a matching one hanging in Fred’s closet across the hall. And even though George isn’t ready to jump back into work Y/N knows that he will be, someday. And she doesn’t want any one of these suits to be tainted with the memories of Fred’s funeral. Not when they already hold so many happy memories. Memories of the first day the store was open, of all their late nights brainstorming new products or dealing with paperwork. Y/N had seen George at his happiest while wearing those suits, had watched him and Fred share mischievous smiles as their dreams became a reality. Someday George will step into one of those suits again, and Y/N doesn’t want the first thing he thinks about to be Fred’s funeral.

She gets George dressed quickly, pressing a lingering kiss to his forehead once it’s done. “I love you, George. And I know you love me too, even if you can’t say it right now, okay? I’m here for you always. No matter what.” Y/N goes over to the desk in the corner and grabs the teapot pin she bought for George all those years ago. It feels thin and flimsy in her hand, and she almost feels silly as she pins it to his jacket. Like she’s still that eager teenager, shopping in London with her Mum for the perfect gift to give the boy of her dreams that she loves with her whole heart. But it’s their promise of forever, and Y/N thinks George needs that now more than ever.

Fred’s funeral is packed, which is a surprise to no one. Fred was magnetic and left an impression on everyone he ever came in contact with. Y/N stays by George’s side, greeting everyone that comes to talk with them. Most of their classmates show up and Y/N even recognizes a few regulars from the joke shop. Even Professor Slughorn shows up, despite the fact that he never taught Fred, and Y/N is pretty sure she catches McGonagall wiping away a few tears out of the corner of her eye.

Andromeda comes through with baby Teddy in her arms, and even George cracks the faintest of smiles when the sparse hair on his head turns bright orange. The only time Y/N leaves George’s side is when Lee shows up and she goes to stand with Ginny and Harry who are comforting a teary-eyed Oliver Wood so that the two friends can have a moment alone. George doesn’t say anything, but when Lee goes to sit down George has tears running down his cheeks and Y/N goes back to his side so she can wipe them away.

Ginny ends up being the one to give the Eulogy. Both Bill and Charlie had tried, but every time they sat down to write something they just couldn’t get the words out. Percy had declined his dad’s offer, still too unsure of his place in the family and still too busy blaming himself to feel comfortable enough to talk about how much Fred meant to him. George had been the obvious choice, but he can’t even talk about the weather, and no one wanted to pressure him into doing something he wasn’t ready for. Ron had actually managed to write out a beautiful tribute with the help of Hermione, but two words in he got so emotional he started hyperventilating.

So, it fell onto Ginny’s shoulders to be the one to give the tribute to Fred. Y/N watches Ginny’s knees shake as she stands in front of her brother’s casket, her eyes never once straying to the cards in her hands. Her voice is clear and strong as she tells the story about the first prank she’d ever helped Fred and George pull off, but the tears streaming down her face glisten in the sunlight. Both Fred and George always held a soft spot for their younger sister, so as she stands up there and talks about how much she loved Fred it only seems right that Ginny be the one to say the final goodbye to him.

As Fred’s casket lowers into the ground everyone stands up, holding their wands high as they cast a bright white light into the sky. Y/N slips her hand into George’s, giving his fingers a tight squeeze as they give their final tribute to Fred. Ron waves his wand so a few whizbangs he and Harry had set up can go off. They had found them in Fred and George’s room so of course as they erupt into the sky the colors burst into a few different explicit words.

Everyone, even George, manages to laugh and it feels like the perfect way to send off Fred, the guy who dedicated his life to making people laugh and who died with his final smile still etched on his face.

“Are you sure you don’t want to stay a bit longer?” Molly asks, placing her hands on Y/N’s shoulders. “It’s not a bother at all having you two here. It’s nice, to have the house a bit full again.”

Y/N nods, sparing a glance over her shoulder at George. He’s sitting on the arm of the sofa, listening to Ron chatter on about who knows what. It’s nearly June now, and while things with George have been progressing slowly, Y/N is optimistic that they’ll only get better as time goes on. He gets out of bed for short stretches of time now, and when you talk with him he actually seems like he’s listening. He’s said a few quiet things to both Molly and Y/N, but when the whole family is around he tends to just sit there and let everyone else do the talking for him.

Things have started to get back to somewhat normal for everyone, and Y/N decided it was time for her and George to do the same. Bill and Fleur are back at shell cottage, working hard to get Gringotts back in working order, and Charlie finally went back to Romania last week. Arthur and Percy will be back at the ministry next week, and even Harry and Ron will be joining them for their Auror training.

George isn’t ready to reopen the shop yet, but Y/N figures just being back in the flat will help him continue to heal. “I think some normalcy will help George. Get him in a routine, back to living his everyday life. We’ll be back plenty, but I think it’s time we go home.”

“My boy is in good hands with you, Y/N, that’s for sure.” Molly leans in and presses a kiss to Y/N’s forehead. “And you’ll owl? If anything happens?”

“Of course, Molly.” Y/N gives Molly a final smile before turning back to look at George. “You ready to go home, love?”

George nods and doesn’t say anything, but the corners of his mouth twitch up into a smile. He takes the hand that Y/N offers him, holding it loosely in his own. He still isn’t as physically affectionate as before, but Y/N is sure that with time everything will go back to how it was before.

“Are you going to get out of bed today?” Y/N asks, unable to stop the annoyance that creeps into her tone.

It’s nearly October now, and things with George have only seemed to stay the same, if not worse. Some days he gets out of bed and hangs out on the couch, flipping through muggle tv stations for hours on end, holding small conversations with Y/N when he feels up to it. Other days he lays in bed all day, or sometimes for days, his lips shut tight and him barely eating. Firewhiskey seems to be the main component of his diet and Y/N has no idea how he keeps getting more of it after she pours it down the drain, since he never leaves the house.

Everyone has been coddling George, and while Y/N can’t even imagine the pain George has been going through, she’s nearly reached the end of her rope. She’s brought in several different Wizard therapists to try and get George to open up, but each one just ended up leaving the flat after a frustrated hour of George not saying anything. She just wants to figure out some way to help him, and he’s been completely unresponsive in the whole thing.

“Maybe,” George mumbles, rolling onto his other side.

Y/N can hear the unmistakable sound of a Firewhiskey bottle opening and she flips the light on as she enters their room, heading over to George. “Where the hell do you keep getting this crap? Give me the bottle, George.”

George makes eye contact with Y/N as he takes a swig from the bottle, draining quite a bit of the amber liquid. It’s the only thing that has managed to make him feel something in the months since Fred’s death and he doesn’t care how much it bothers Y/N. “Last I checked you weren’t the boss of me,” George responds flatly before taking another drink.

The rude attitude is something new too. Along with his lack of physical affection, some days when George finds the energy to talk his tone is always crass. He’s never said anything horribly mean, but the way he says things never fails to cut Y/N deeply.

“I’m just trying to help you, George,” Y/N reminds him, softening her tone.

George scoffs and tosses the now empty bottle onto the floor. “Well no one asked you to.”

“Because that’s what you do when you love someone, George. You’re there for them no matter what.” Y/N waits for George to say something, and when he doesn’t she lets out a soft sigh. “I’m worried about you, Georgie. You barely get out of bed anymore, you’re not eating. I can’t even imagine the pain you’ve gone through these months. But it’s been nearly six months, love. And Fred wouldn’t want-.”

“Don’t. Don’t talk about him like you knew him. You and Fred had one civil conversation over a year ago. You have no idea what Fred wanted,” George says harshly, cutting Y/N off.

Y/N can feel tears pricking the corners of her eyes and she takes a deep breath to try and calm down. She knows this isn’t George talking, it’s the alcohol and the grief, but it doesn’t make it hurt any less. “I get your upset George, I lost people I cared about too. But I don’t get all this anger. Why are you so mad at me? Is it something I said? Something I did? Just talk to me George, please.”

“You want me to talk? Fine, I’ll talk.” George sits up and crosses his arms over his chest, his eyes narrow as he looks at Y/N. “It’s all your fault, he’s dead because of you. I should have been with Fred. I could have cast a protective spell or pulled him out of the way. And he’d still be here. But I wasn’t with him. You know why? I was faffing about the castle looking for you, saving you. When I should have been with Fred.”

Y/N can feel hot tears running down her cheeks, and her fingers shake as she reaches up to wipe them away. “What are you saying, George? That you regret trying to find me? That you regret saving me? That you would go back and let Adrian kill me so you could save Fred?” Y/N pauses to swallow the lump in her throat. “You wish it had been me who died, don’t you?”

George doesn’t say anything, but it’s answer enough for Y/N. “Fuck you, George. I’ve spent the past five months of my life giving you my everything. Trying to help you, trying to make you feel better. And you’ve been what? Laying there wishing it had been me instead of Fred?” Y/N can feel her heart shattering as George just continues to look at her, the same cold expression on his face as before. “Well I’m done. With helping you, with coddling you. With everything.”

She can feel the necklace George gave her pressing against her skin, and while it’s normally a comforting feeling, now it feels as if it’s burning her skin and she reaches up, tearing it from around her throat. It’s the first time she’s taken it off since George gave it to her and as she looks at it in her hand Y/N wants to put it right back on. But instead she throws it at George. It lands on his legs, and they both just stare at it for a moment.

“Take your promise of forever and shove it up your ass, George. I love you more than I’ve ever loved anything, more than I’ve ever loved myself. But clearly you don’t feel the same way and I’m not going to spend the rest of my life pretending that it doesn’t kill me inside that you don’t love me the same way I love you.”

Without another word Y/N storms out of their bedroom and out of the flat, unsure of where she’s going to go next.

“You look dreadful,” Percy says honestly when George opens the door. His eyes are red with dark circles underneath, his hair is a mess and the pajamas he’s wearing are wrinkled and creased from him tossing and turning in his sleep.

Y/N had sent an owl to the Burrow after she ended things with George, and Percy had been the one to volunteer to visit George to try and talk to him. He gave him a few days to think about things before deciding to come and see him after work one day. The war took enough from George, and Percy couldn’t sit back and let George destroy one of the last good things in his life.

“What do you want?” George asks flatly, shuffling over towards the couch. He’s felt sick to his stomach since the moment Y/N walked away from him. He was angry and kind of drunk and sad when they fought, and George hadn’t meant a word of what he said to her. But he needed a way to get her to leave. Because George doesn’t know when he’ll ever feel normal again, when he’ll be able to love her properly again, and watching her throw her life away to help him fight a losing battle was getting to be too much.

It started two weeks ago, on one of his good days. He woke up in the morning feeling like himself, feeling like he did before the battle of Hogwarts. George had finally had a dream, not a nightmare or darkness in his eyelids while he slept. It was an actual dream, and when he opened his eyes in the morning the images of him running around a backyard with a redheaded toddler on his shoulders were still fresh in his mind.

And when he made it out into the kitchen where Y/N was making breakfast, she looked gorgeous and the smile on her face when George greeted her was bright enough to light up the world. He finally felt like things were going to be okay. He didn’t feel haunted by the closed bedroom door down the hall. George felt like he was ready, ready to get his shit back together and give Y/N everything he’d ever promised her.

But then he found it in the trash. A letter from the head Healer at St. Mungo’s. She was inviting Y/N to come back into the Healer program, to finish the training she started before the war. All she had to do was send a letter back confirming her reenrollment. But judging by the fact that she hadn’t mentioned anything, and the letter was in the trash, George figured Y/N wasn’t going to reenroll. It killed him that she was giving up on her dream to stay there with him--he was having a good day, but George knew that tomorrow, he could wake up and be right back to struggling to get out of bed. Y/N wanted to be a healer long before George occupied any of her thoughts, and he couldn’t let her throw that away.

So that day, he decided it was best if he let her go. Y/N had given up a lot for George already. His insecurities back at Hogwarts led her away from her best friends, his grief stopped her from dealing with the loss of people she cared about, and now, his inability to get his shit together was going to stop her from fulfilling her dream--the dream that made George start to fall in love with her in the first place. He couldn’t let her give up more of her life than she already had.

When Y/N tried to talk to him that day, he let whatever vile words he could think of spill out of his mouth. Seeing her so hurt, so broken, crushed whatever part of his soul was left, and he couldn’t let her keep living that way. But seeing her tear that necklace off broke something inside of George. He finally felt something other than numbness, and it was complete and utter pain. It felt like his heart was torn from his chest when Y/N slammed the door behind her, and even though George knew not being with him is what’s best for Y/N, his heart still beats for her and he’s sure it always will.

Percy sighs and follows George over to the couch. “What’s going on with you, George? You’re not acting like yourself.”

“I wonder why,” George responds, watching Percy sink into one of their armchairs. It’s weird, seeing him here. Percy barely wanted to enter Fred and George’s bedroom when they lived at home together, so he knows something must really be bothering him if he decided to come to the flat to see George.

“This isn’t about Fred,” Percy starts, holding up his hand to keep George from responding. “I’m not saying that you’re not still upset about him or that your grief isn’t valid. I’m talking about Y/N. She owled Mum about what you said. And while I imagine you’re still very hurt, we all are, I know you would never say anything like that to her. I’m not going to pretend that I know what your relationship with her was like, but I know you, George. And I saw the way she took care of you after what happened. So I know there’s no way you could have meant those things you said to her.”

“I’m not good enough for her anymore,” George says suddenly after a few minutes of silence. “I’m broken, damaged goods. And Y/N deserves the world. She was wasting her life sitting here and taking care of me. I couldn’t let her do that anymore.”

“George you’re not broken, or damaged. You’re healing, there’s a difference. And keeping all of this in is certainly not helping.” Percy sits back and just watches George for a moment. “We talked, down in the kitchen that first night after the battle, Y/N and I. I couldn’t sleep and she came down for some water. We were talking, and I asked her what changed, how she went from hating your guts to looking at you like you’re the only person in the world. Do you wanna know what she said to me?”

When George just shrugs Percy leans forward so he can look at George better. “She told me about the night in detention. About how you guys had an actual conversation for once. And that you made her feel like someone was actually listening to her. That you validated her dreams and made her feel like they were attainable. Y/N said that she told you stuff she never even told her closest friends, because just being around you made her feel safe, like she could be vulnerable around you.”

George thinks about that first night in detention often. After that night, he couldn’t stop thinking about Y/N. He even remembers having a dream about how nice her hair smelled, and how good it would have felt to run his fingers through it. He thinks about that night in the broom closet too, hiding from McGonagall; he’d wanted to kiss her so badly, being so close to her made his knees shaky and his chest tight. George had planned on kissing Y/N that night when he dropped her off at the Slytherin common room, until Umbridge had run into them. When they finally had their first kiss a few nights later in that secret passageway, George knew that from that moment on, he couldn’t live without Y/N.

“Why are you telling me this? It doesn’t matter now.”

Percy sighs. “I’m telling you this because you need to know that it’s okay to be vulnerable with Y/N. Keeping all of this in is only hurting the both of you, George. She very clearly loves you, and I know you must love her too if you’re willing to be miserable for the rest of your life to make her happy. But you can both be happy, George. Happy together. You just need to, and pardon my language, take your head out of your ass.”

George chuckles at that. “Wow, Perc, you must be serious, I’ve never heard you say anything so lewd.”

“Yeah well I slacked on my big brother duties for a few years, I figured it’s time to make up for it.” Percy pauses, pursing his lips. “Y/N’s staying at her parent’s house, getting it all cleaned out. Think about what you’re gonna say and then go over and apologize to her. You deserve to be happy, George. Fred would want you to be happy.”

It takes a few days and a visit from his Mum to get his haircut, but George gets his shit together so he can go and talk to Y/N. He spent quite a long time trying to figure out what to say to her, and while it’s not exactly perfect it’s what George feels and that’s what matters to him. Because there’s no doubt in his mind that Y/N is the only person he wants to be with for the rest of his life, and he shouldn’t let his inability to express his thoughts get in the way of that. They’ve already been down that road together before, and George vowed to spend forever with Y/N and he still plans on making good on those promises.

He pushes the front door right open, letting the noise of Y/N muttering to herself as she shuffles things around lead him to where she is. He finds Y/N digging through the drawers of the dresser in her childhood bedroom. She’s wearing an oversized t-shirt that George thinks used to be in his closet and her hair is tied up on her head. George can feel his legs shaking as he leans up against the doorway, and he takes a deep breath to calm himself down.

“Hey, teacup.”

Y/N jumps at the sound of George’s voice and she spins to face the door, her hand clutching her chest. “For Merlin’s sake, George. You scared the shit out of me.” She can feel her heart racing in her chest, and it’s not from the fright George just gave her. He looks good, like his normal self and it feels like she’s seeing him for the first time. Molly has definitely cut his hair recently, and even though he’s still in comfy clothes the Gryffindor t-shirt and sweatpants he’s wearing are uncreased and look like they’ve been washed recently.

“Sorry, love, thought you heard me when I came in.” George bites his lip, fiddling with his thumbs. “You doing okay?”

Y/N shrugs, looking down at the floor. George is the last person she expected to show up here, and she’s not sure how she feels about it. He’s been on her mind since the moment she walked out the door of their flat last week, and the last words he spoke to her have been running on a constant loop in the back of her mind. She’s still so angry and hurt over what he said, but Y/N would be lying if she said every cell in her body isn’t screaming at her to just go up and hug him.

“I’ve been doing better, than before,” George continues when she doesn’t say anything. “Percy came to talk to me a few days ago, made me realize what an ass I was. Though I must say he was much nicer than Ginny was when she did the same thing a few years ago.” He lets out a breathy chuckle, and his stomach flips when Y/N looks back up at him with a small smile. “I owe you probably the biggest apology I’ll ever give in my entire life and I’d love to give it to you if you’d let me.”

It reminds Y/N of that day on the train when their only problems were jealousy and what house table they should eat dinner at. Y/N instinctively reaches up to grab the charms of her necklace, her hand faltering when all she meets is the cloth of her shirt. It’s something she’s done several times in the days it’s been since she ripped the piece of jewelry off, usually when she was missing George and wanted to feel like a piece of him was still nearby.

“I guess that’s something I could do,” she says quietly, going to take a seat on the edge of her bed. She pats the spot next to her, encouraging George to come sit. His hands are shaking as he comes and sits down, and it takes all of Y/N’s restraint to not reach out and grab one of them.

“I lied to you. I don’t blame you, for what happened to Fred. And I don’t regret anything I did that night. If it had been you who died instead of Fred I don’t think I would have been able to carry on with my life. Because Y/N you are quite literally the only reason why I wake up every morning, you’re the reason why I have the energy to get out of bed somedays, and the reason why I feel okay when I don’t. Falling in love with you, being with you has been the best thing that has ever happened to me.”

George reaches up to wipe away a few of the tears Y/N has started to shed, his fingers trembling as they softly press against her cheek. “And even though I haven’t been the best person to be around lately, you’ve been by my side through everything. You’ve been so patient and understanding, way more than I deserve. You put your life on hold to help me, and I’ve been rejecting all of your efforts. I don’t know how to do all of this. How to grieve and handle my emotions. Talk about my emotions. And instead of just trying I’ve been keeping them all in, letting them settle in me and get worse. I haven’t felt like myself in months, haven’t allowed myself to. And yet every day you were there, with a smile and a reassuring touch, telling me how much you love me. I started to feel guilty, so overwhelmingly so it felt like my chest was going to cave in. Because there you were, putting your life on hold, giving up your dream to try and help me and I couldn’t even manage to tell you how much I love and appreciate you.”

Y/N reaches up and wipes away a few of George’s tears this time, letting her fingers gently caress his cheek. “George I didn’t mind, doing all of that for you. That’s what you do when you love someone. You make sacrifices, change your plans. I would give up everything to be there for you.”

“That’s why I said all of those things to you, Y/N. Pushed you away, forced you to leave. Because I don’t want you to give up everything to be with me.” George cups Y/N’s cheek gently so he can look her in the eyes. “You deserve to have everything you’ve ever wanted in life, and you deserve to have a partner that can be there for you. That can support you fully in everything you do. And I didn’t think I could be that person for you.”

“Didn’t think you could be? Or don’t think you could be?” Y/N asks through her sniffles.

“Didn’t,” George confirms, his voice serious. “Because living without you, even for a few moments was the most intense pain I have ever felt. And even though I don’t know when I’ll feel completely back to normal there are a few things I do know. I know that I love you. And I know that I want to spend the rest of my life with you. I know I want to support you and be there for you in everything you do. And I know that I want to try and be better for you. And for me. Most importantly I know that I want you, forever. I want all those things I promised you, the stupid diamond and the wedding and the seven ginger babies. I know that I actually want to live my life, not just watch it pass me by. And the only person I want to do that with is you.”

George pauses to dig around in the pocket of his sweatpants, and a moment later he pulls out Y/N’s necklace. Except this time along with the teapot and G charm, there’s a simple diamond ring hanging from the chain. “So I am so, so sorry for treating you the way I have, the way I did. And teacup, if you’ll let me, I promise to cherish you and support you and love you forever.”

It’s not the way Y/N ever imagined this moment would take place, but as she surges forward to kiss George properly for the first time in months, it feels absolutely perfect. She knows that they have a long road of healing and mending ahead and that their lives will probably never be the way they imagined them. But none of that matters. All Y/N needs and has ever needed is George. “Of course, George. There is no one else I want to spend forever with.”

George lets Y/N pull him into another kiss as he fumbles with the necklace, trying to get the ring off so he can slip it onto her finger. She starts to kiss down his neck, and George lets out a soft moan as he finally gets the ring in his hand. “Hang on teacup, wait a minute.”

“Sorry, sorry,” Y/N mumbles as she pulls away, her cheeks flushed pink. “It’s fine if you’re not ready to we can wait for as long as you want I just figured that-.”

George cuts her off with a laugh. “Oh no that’s not what I meant, Y/N. I am more than ready to be with you like that again. I just wanna put your ring and your necklace on first.”

“Oh right I kinda forgot about that,” Y/N says with a giggle, holding her left hand out for George. Between the war and George’s grief they haven’t been intimate in well over a year now, and Y/N’s fingers stopped being sufficient long ago so in her haste to get George into bed she completely forgot about the ring.

“You can’t not have your ring on the first time we do it as an engaged couple,” George teases as he slides the ring down her finger. The diamond glistens in the sunlight streaming in through the window and to George it looks as if the ring was made to be on Y/N’s finger.

Y/N examines the ring up close for the first time as she turns around so George can clasp her necklace back around her neck. It’s simple, but gorgeous and everything she’s ever wanted in an engagement ring. George finally gets the clasp of the necklace closed and Y/N shivers as the cool metal settles against her skin. A moment later George’s warm mouth is pressing kisses into her skin and she lets out a quiet noise.

“I missed you so much,” George murmurs as he turns Y/N back around, kissing her softly. He starts to slowly lay her back against the pillows as their mouths move together, crawling on top of her. “You did such a good job taking care of me, teacup. Now it’s my turn to take care of you.”

George helps Y/N out of her top before he starts to slowly kiss down her neck, his hands slowly rubbing up and down her sides. It’s been far too long since he showed Y/N just how much he loves and appreciates her, and he plans on making up for it now. He moves his lips down her chest, taking one of her nipples between his lips. The tip of his tongue flicks at the sensitive bud for a moment before he sucks on it gently.

“Oh, George,” Y/N moans, tangling one of her hands in his hair. She tugs on it lightly as her hips move off of the bed to grind up against George’s. She can already feel her arousal pooling in her panties and she’s ready for more.

“God you are gorgeous,” George murmurs before capturing Y/N’s other nipple in his mouth and giving it the same treatment as the other. “I don’t deserve you,” he mumbles into her skin as he starts to kiss down her stomach. “You are perfect in every way, Y/N.”

“I love you,” Y/N tells George quietly as he gets rid of her bottoms, lifting her hips up to help him. She shivers as she rests back against the bed, completely bare for him. His gentle touch on her knees makes goosebumps rise on her skin, and she lets out a whine as he spreads her legs open.

“I love you too, teacup. So much. More than anything in the world.” George starts to kiss Y/N’s inner thigh, leading a trail up to her dripping cunt. He pauses to suck a mark onto the inner most part of her thigh, just a few centimeters away from where she needs him most. George brings two fingers to her cunt, spreading her wetness around as he rubs through her folds.

Y/N’s hips grind down against George’s gentle touch, and she tugs on George’s hair when he chuckles. “Please, George. I need you.”

George slips two fingers into Y/N’s cunt as his lips attach to her clit, moaning against her when walls clench around his digits. He sucks on her clit gently, slowly moving his fingers in her, curling them with every push back into her entrance.

“Oh yes, Georgie, fuck. Feels so good,” Y/N groans, her hips starting to grind down against George’s face and hands. She spreads her legs even wider, whining when the fingers of George’s free hand dig into her thigh.

“Such a good girl for me, teacup,” he praises, pressing a wet kiss to her clit. He starts to move his fingers faster, scissoring his fingers to help stretch her and get her ready for his cock. “Making such pretty noises for me, just like you always do.”

Y/N lets out a low moan as George reattaches his mouth to her clit, bringing her free hand up to pinch at her nipples. She can already feel the familiar heat of an orgasm building in her stomach, and her toes curl as George’s tongue starts to trace patterns over her clit. “Love being your good girl, George. Always wanna be your good girl.”

George hums as he sucks Y/N’s clit harder, fucking his fingers back into her cunt harder. Her walls are clenching and twitching around him, and George has to grind his hips against the bed to get some relief on his aching cock.

“So close George, fuck,” Y/N moans, her toes curling as George’s fingers brush her g-spot once again. She can feel shocks of pleasure radiating through her cunt as her orgasm approaches, and she starts to move her hips sloppily, chasing her climax. “Can I cum? Please Georgie, wanna cum. Wanna be a good girl,” she babbles, tugging on George’s hair.

George takes his mouth away from her cunt and starts to rub harsh circles on Y/N’s clit. “Go on, darling. Want you to be a good girl and cum for me.”

With a few more pumps of George’s fingers Y/N is cumming, her thighs trembling as pleasure washes over her in waves. She can see stars behind her eyes, and she doesn’t even realize that she’s moaning loudly until George is kissing her and the room gets infinitely quieter.

George rubs Y/N’s hips soothingly as she comes down from her high, his lips gently pressing to her neck in a series of slow kisses. “Do you have any idea how fucking hot you sound when you’re moaning like that for me?” he asks, pulling away so he can look into Y/N’s eyes.

“I could wager a guess,” Y/N responds playfully, pulling George down into a kiss. She slowly starts to sit up as George deepens their kiss, letting out a moan against his mouth. Y/N trails one of her hands down George’s chest to his crotch, palming his erection through the fabric of his sweatpants. “Is this another present in your pants for me?” she teases, nipping at George’s lips.

“Why am I marrying you again?” George teases as he pulls away so he can take his t-shirt off. He gets off the bed then and starts to get rid of his bottoms, pulling them down slowly to tease Y/N.

“Georgie,” Y/N whines at his teasing, jutting her lower lip out into a pout. She gets up onto her knees and wraps one of her hands around the back of George’s neck as the other reaches down to wrap around his cock. Y/N pulls George down into a hot kiss as she starts to stroke him, her thumb swirling around the tip to collect the precum dribbling out, helping her hand to glide easier.

George kicks his bottoms off as Y/N strokes him, moaning into her mouth. “Godric I missed this. Missed you, teacup. I can’t believe I get to have you for the rest of my life.” He crawls back onto the bed as he kisses Y/N again, sitting down with his back against the headboard. His hands settle on Y/N’s hips and he pulls her so that she’s straddling his waist. “You gonna show me how much you missed me too?”

Y/N reaches behind her to grip George’s cock and she lets out a whine as she teases her slit with the tip. She lets George pull her into another kiss as she starts to slowly sink down, but it falls apart as her hips move and her mouth drops open to let out a few pants. “So fucking full,” she groans as their thighs meet, her hips rocking slightly now that George is fully inside of her.

“Fuck your cunt is tight,” George moans, digging his fingers into Y/N’s hips. Her walls are pulsating around him and he can’t help but jut his hips upwards. Being buried inside of Y/N feels like pure ecstasy to George, and it takes all of his restraint not to just flip them over so he can fuck into her hard. “How do I feel, teacup? You like the way my cock fills you up?”

“George,” Y/N moans as she starts to rock in his lap, moving her hips in tight circles as she grinds down into him. She can feel George deep inside of her, and the way his cock brushes her g-spot with every moment causes pleasure to radiate through her core. “Feels good, so good. Missed being,” Y/N pauses to moan as George starts to help guide the movements of her hips. “Missed being full.”

George presses his face into the crook of Y/N’s neck, letting out grunts against her skin as she starts to rock against him quicker. He starts to move his own hips up into her and her walls clamp around him even tighter. “You’re incredible,” he pants, pressing a kiss to her neck. George pulls away so he can look at Y/N leaning in to kiss her briefly. “Feel so fucking good, teacup. Riding me so well, Y/N. Being such a good girl for me.”

Y/N tips her head back and moans as she starts to move faster, desperately trying to cum again. Her clit is grinding against George with every movement and the way he’s stretching her out has gone straight to her head, and Y/N’s mind is clouded with pleasure. Maybe it’s because they haven’t been intimate like this in so long or because they’re engaged now but Y/N feels complete with George inside of her and she never wants it to end as she grinds down against him harder.

“Please George, please,” she begs breathily, digging her fingers into his shoulders.

“What do you want teacup?” George asks as he stats to thrust his hips up harder. Her walls twitch with every movement and he can already feel himself getting close to his release. “Whatever you want it’s yours.”

Y/N tilts her head forward so she can rest their foreheads together. She looks into George’s eyes and a shiver runs down her spine at how dark they are. “Just want you, Georgie. Please.”

George kisses Y/N desperately as he flips them over, pressing Y/N down into the mattress as he starts to slam his hips into her hard. “You’ve got me,” George promises as he brings one of his hands down to her core, starting to rub harsh circles on her clit. He braces himself on a hand above her shoulder and presses their foreheads together again so he can look into her eyes. “Forever, Y/N. I mean it this time. Forever.”

“Oh fuck, George,” Y/N moans as she cums, her legs winding around George’s hips to keep him in place, fucking her deep. Electric shocks of pleasure radiate through her body and her chest starts to heave with deep breaths as the pleasure washes over her.

Y/N’s walls tightening and pulsating around him pushes George over the edge, and he cums too, a cry of her name leaving his lips. He kisses her messily as his cock twitches inside of her, his hips slowly rolling to help them both of them through the tail ends of their orgasms.

“No,” Y/N whines when George moves to pull out, her legs tightening around his waist. “Not yet, George. Wanna be full with you for a bit longer.”

George chuckles and presses a kiss to Y/N’s sweaty forehead, carefully turning them on their sides so they can lay somewhat comfortably, his cock still buried deep inside of her. “Of course, teacup. Anything for you.”

“Forever, yeah?” she murmurs, clenching her walls around George.

He reaches a hand between them and presses the charms of Y/N’s necklace into her skin. “Forever.”

“You’re the most beautiful woman in the world, did you know that Mrs. Weasley?” George asks with a dopey grin as he twirls Y/N around in a circle.

They decided to keep their wedding small. Partially to distract from the fact that Y/N really has no friends or family to invite. But mostly because they don’t need all the theatrics. It’s the middle of June, and the backyard of the Burrow is draped in twinkling lights, making the warm air seem as if it’s glowing as everyone talks or eats or dances. George had suggested they get married as quick as humanly possible. He even tried to convince Y/N that they should just get a marriage license from the ministry and get married right in Shacklebolt’s office before they even had the chance to tell anyone they were engaged.

But Y/N insisted that they have some sort of ceremony with their family. June seemed like the perfect opportunity, since both Ginny and Hermione would be done with school and Fleur would have already given birth to the first Weasley grandchild. Y/N also thought it would give George some more time to deal with his grief.

After he proposed George really did start doing better. He started getting out of bed every day and taking proper care of himself. Y/N encouraged him to reconnect with his family and friends, and they even started leaving the flat together at least once a week. George started seeing a wizard therapist, and as he learned how to identify and deal with his emotions, Y/N watched the light slowly come back to his eyes. By Christmas he was back to joking around again, and he even charmed some mistletoe so that the people who met underneath it wouldn’t be able to move unless they kissed.

In the new year Y/N reenrolled in her Healer training program, and while being by himself again gave George a bit of anxiety, he packed a lunch for her and sent her off with a kiss on the cheek and a smile. And it worked out in the end, because George found himself so stir crazy without Y/N around that he managed to go back down in the joke shop. Y/N ended up finding him sitting in the office when she got home, some of Fred’s old notes clutched in his hand while he cried. She was worried that he would start to move backwards, but when George noticed her presence he opened up to her about how he was feeling instead of pushing her away. He managed to make the trek back down into the shop every day after that and now Weasleys’ Wizard Wheezes will be back open for business on July first.

“You’re only saying that because it’s our wedding day, Georgie,” Y/N teases, titling her chin up so he’ll kiss her. George presses their lips together briefly and Y/N rests her head on his shoulder, watching Arthur twirl Molly around on the other side of the dancefloor.

George presses a kiss to the top of Y/N’s forehead before resting his cheek there. “You think that’ll be us in thirty years? Dancing like fools at our kids wedding?”

“I hope so. I reckon we’ll be those proper embarrassing parents, like the kinds who’s kids hate going out with them in public,” Y/N muses with a laugh.

“You mean like your parents?” George asks softly, pulling Y/N into his chest tighter. “Your cheeks were so red the first time I met them I thought you were gonna turn into a tomato.”

Y/N turns her face into George’s chest to hide the pink flush of her cheeks as the memory of George meeting her parents for the first time comes flooding back to the forefront of her mind.

“Not another one Mum, please,” Y/N begs before picking up a pillow off of the sofa and shoving her face into it to hide her embarrassment. All her mother does is grin as she comes back into the living room with another album full of pictures from Y/N’s childhood.

It’s easter break for Y/N, and it’s only been a few weeks since George and Fred had their grand exit from Hogwarts. While George has been busy getting ready for the joke shop’s grand opening, he agreed to come to dinner at Y/N’s house so he could finally meet her parents. He was a little nervous leading up to it, unsure of how Y/N’s parents would take to the fact that their daughter is dating a poor blood traitor who’s a recent school dropout, but the second he walked through the door all his worries washed away.

Y/N’s family manor is large, but yet somehow still feels like home. It’s bright and warm and feels lived in. Y/N’s mother had hugged him tightly as soon as he stepped through the door, and her dad playfully fell to his knees to bow down to George, making a joke about how gracious he was that someone fell in love with his smart ass daughter so he wouldn’t have to deal with her for the rest of his life. Y/N was standing just behind him looking as if she wanted the world to just open up and swallow her whole, but George found it hilarious and gave her dad a curtsey in response, telling him that her smart mouth would greatly reduce the dowry he’d be willing to pay.

Even Marjorie their house elf had teased Y/N a bit as she brought them all drinks in the parlor. She said something about how the photo Y/N keeps of George under her pillow certainly did not do him justice as he’s much more handsome in person and Y/N’s cheeks went so red it was as if she had spent hours outside in the cold. They had only been sitting down for a few minutes when the first photo album came out, and now George is about to start flicking through the fifth.

George laughs as he takes the book from Y/N’s Mum, trading her for the one he just finished flipping through. “Oh, come on, love. It’s only fair. Ginny tells you embarrassing stories about me all the time.”

“Yeah, pumpkin. It could be worse, I could have Marjorie go dig the old Muggle video player out and we could pop some of the home movies into it,” her Dad teases.

Y/N groans at that and she puts the pillow down so she can glare at her father. “Fine, fine, the photos can stay.” She leans her head against George’s shoulder as he starts to flip through the book, and she just barely sees her Mum bring the camera out from behind her back before she’s taking a picture. “Mum! We talked about this, you promised no photos!”

“Oh, come on, one photo never hurt anybody. You’ll be thankful I took this photo someday when you’re old and fondly reminiscing about your youth to your grandkids,” Y/N’s mother says, putting the camera down. “And it’ll be a nice visual aid when I tell the story about how embarrassed we made you tonight at your wedding.”

“Can we not with the wedding talk? George and I are barely eighteen.” Y/N hides her face in George’s neck, her cheeks heating up even further when George chuckles and turns his head so he can kiss her on the temple. Both of her parents let out an aw, and she picks up the nearest pillow to throw at them.

George laughs as Y/N faceplants onto her bed later that night. They’ve just finished dinner with her parents, and Y/N snuck them upstairs when her Mum went to go find another old photo album. “You regretting asking me to come to dinner?” he asks, sitting down next to Y/N.

She turns her head so she can glare at George, but it quickly turns soft when he starts to rub her lower back. “They promised me they’d be on their best behavior. Clearly they lied.”

“It’s cute, that they embarrass you or whatever. Clearly they love you a lot,” George responds softly, giving her a reassuring smile. “How much of our wedding do you think your Mum has planned?” he teases with a chuckle.

“Don’t joke about that, George. Knowing her the answer is probably the whole thing,” Y/N answers with a giggle. She rolls over onto her back so she can look up at George, letting one of her hands reach up to run through his hair. “I hope they didn’t scare you away with all of their baby photos.”

“Darling if Daphne Greengrass’ iciest glare doesn’t scare me a few photos of you with some missing teeth is nothing,” George reassures her. “Your Mum even had me mark some of my favorites for her to include in the wedding slideshow when you went to the loo.”

Y/N groans and places one of her pillows over her face, before deciding to hit George with it when he laughs at her pain.

“They were quite embarrassing. Though I wish we could have seen the slide show my Mum was gonna make. Bet your Mum would have added a fair few photos of you to the mix,” Y/N points out, grinning up at George.

George leans down and presses a kiss to Y/N’s forehead. “And half of them would have been of Fred I reckon, we were even harder to tell apart when we were babies.” He lets out a quiet sigh and kisses Y/N’s forehead again. “I wish he was here.”

“I know, Georgie.” Y/N squeezes George tighter for a moment, letting her eyes wander around the backyard. Ginny has a very excited Teddy Lupin on her shoulders, with both Harry and Andromeda laughing as the toddler’s face and hair changes into something new every few seconds. Bill and Fleur are in the corner trying to coax a restless Victorie to sleep and Charlie and Lee are taking shots together at one end of the bar. Percy is standing at the other end of it with Ron and Hermione, telling them a story about his new girlfriend, Audrey. “Percy did a pretty good job though, as best man. Don’t you think?”

Turns out the hardest decision in wedding planning was figuring out who the best man would be. Ginny was the natural choice for maid of honor, but it took George weeks to pick out his best man. Both Ron and Harry volunteered themselves for the role, and spent more time arguing with each other over why George should pick them rather than trying to convince George why they were the best choice. Charlie actually took himself out of the running, since he’d been Bill’s best man and didn’t want to take the opportunity away from another brother. And Lee was pretty chill about the whole thing, he was perfectly happy just to be the one in charge of the DJing.

Percy had been shocked when George asked him. Despite the fact that Percy had really tried to step back into the family after the war everyone could tell he still felt awkward. He was always the first to head home after family dinners, and the one who opted to sit on the single armchair rather than pile up with the others on one of the couches. At Christmas after he opened his Weasley sweater he excused himself to the bathroom, and they all pretended not to notice the red rims of his eyes when he came back. He always waited for someone to address him before he spoke, as if he thought no one cared about what he had to say. Most notably he always braced himself when someone brought up Fred, as if he was waiting for someone to shout at him for failing to save his brother.

But George had reassured him endlessly that he was the only person he wanted to stand up there with him while he promised Y/N forever. For one because Percy had been there for George during a time when he needed him most, and he gave George the push he needed to make things right with Y/N. George also ended up admitting later that him choosing Percy to be his best man would have annoyed Fred endlessly, and it made him feel like he was pulling one final prank on his brother.

George hums as he nods, letting go of Y/N briefly so he can twirl her around, before bringing her back against his chest. “Who knew he could be so funny? I’m pretty sure Ron nearly threw up from how hard he was laughing. It’s nice to see him be comfortable around everyone again. Feels like it did before, you know. That’s what I wanted, when I chose him. For him to feel like family again.”

“That’s actually really sweet of you, George. I’m sure Percy appreciates it,” Y/N murmurs, wrapping her arms around his neck.

“Well it was either let him be the best man or name one of our kids after him, and I’m not sure I like the ring of Percy ll,” George says with a laugh.

Y/N rolls her eyes at that. “I’m revoking your naming privileges, George. You’re not allowed to name any of our eight ginger babies.”

“Eight? I thought we agreed on seven?” George asks with a soft chuckle.

“Well I decided I want eight. And a few hours ago, you stood up in front of our friends and family and promised to spend the rest of forever making me happy so it’s too late to take it all back,” Y/N states matter of factly, sticking her tongue out at George.

George shakes his head fondly and leans down to kiss Y/N slowly. “Fine, fine. Eight it is. Though we better start thinking about moving out of the flat then. Because if my height is anything to go by we’re gonna have some big babies, and I reckon we can only fit two or three of ‘em above Wheezes. And with the way you look tonight there’s no way there won’t be at least one more Weasley grandchild on the way when I’m done ravishing you.”

“How long do we have to wait?” George asks with a groan, flopping down onto the mattress.

“Three minutes. Same as when I told you before,” Y/N responds with an eye roll, throwing the empty pregnancy test box at George.

Despite George’s comments on their wedding night, it took them several months to even talk about getting pregnant. Once the joke shop reopened business was as good as ever. Even now eight months after reopening the store is still so busy that George has to sometimes eat his lunch while working the till or filling out paperwork. And once Y/N completed her Healer training she got stuck working the graveyard shift, so often the only time she and George saw each other was when one of them was coming home from work as the other was on their way to work.

Thankfully after a few months of hazing Y/N was switched to a much more reasonable shift, and she was back to spending most of her nights at home with George. It was then that they started discussing the next steps of their future, and both of them were set in the fact that they wanted to have a baby sooner rather than later. But they both decided to wait just a bit longer, until they had bought a house. Because even though they both love the flat above the joke shop, it’s just not big enough for a growing family.

Fred’s room hasn’t been touched since the Battle of Hogwarts. Y/N knows George has gone in there a few times, on the days when he misses his brother the most. But nothing has been moved or tidied up. There’re still shoes, and clothes and random papers all strewn about that George just hasn’t had the heart to get rid of. Y/N figures it helps George feel like Fred is still close by, so she doesn’t push him to clear it out. Except their bedroom in the flat was too small to have all the stuff needed for a baby, so they decided that a house would come before their family.

But as it turns out, there’s a possibility they’re happening at the same time. It took them a few months to find the right house, and with Y/N’s inheritance from her parents they were able to buy a nice piece of land out in the country with a beautiful house with enough room for the large family they both want. There’s a great little pond and a tire swing, and enough room for a Quidditch pitch too.

And Y/N had figured her missed period was due to the stress of the move. But a few days ago, she woke up from a dream covered in a cold sweat that made her start to think otherwise. Fred was there. He was in the field behind her and George’s new house running around in the warm summer sunshine, chasing after a little boy. And when the little boy finally turned to look at her, Y/N felt like she couldn’t breathe. His hair was the same color as her own, but his face was all George. The same deep brown eyes, the same light freckles dotted on the same pale skin. It was uncanny really, and when the boy finally noticed her he called her Mum and started running towards her. Just before Y/N could wrap her arms around him she woke up, her heart pounding and the image of the little boy still fresh in her mind. She decided then it was time to take a test.

“What a great way to spend the first night in our new house eh?” George asks with a nervous laugh, patting the spot on the mattress next to him.

“Certainly not the way I imagined us breaking in the new house,” Y/N responds with a laugh as she settles down on the mattress with him, the pregnancy test clutched in her hand. They barely have any furniture set up and their mattress is laying on the ground and yet they may need to start planning for a nursery.

George takes the pregnancy test from Y/N’s hand and puts it face down on the bed before he takes her face in his hands and kisses her softly. “I love you, teacup. And whether this test is positive or not I can’t wait to start our family.”

“I love you too, Georgie.” Y/N lets her eyes flutter shut as George presses a lingering kiss to her forehead, unable to stop herself from thinking about the time she and George first talked about having children.

“You still awake down there, teacup?” George whispers into the still air. He didn’t want to say anything and after falling asleep next to Y/N for the past year he’s gotten pretty good at telling if she’s asleep by the pace of her breathing. But the bandage wrapped around his right ear is making it hard to hear, and he needs to know if Y/N is still awake or not.

Y/N’s head pops up immediately and she looks over at George. “What’s wrong? Does your head hurt? It is bleeding?”

George chuckles and shakes his head, shutting his eyes when the room starts to spin. “I’m fine, I’m fine. Just an idiot, give me a minute.” Once George can no longer feel his heartbeat in his temples he opens his eyes and gives Y/N a reassuring smile. “Will you stop fussing? Mum’s done enough of that for you tonight.”

“I can’t help it, George. I thought you were gonna die.” Y/N’s voice cracks as the final word of her sentence falls from her lips, and she can feel the tears welling in her eyes.

The Battle of the seven Harrys had been a shitshow from the moment they left the ground. Y/N was riding a Thestral with Ron, and from the second they took off Death Eaters were everywhere. Luckily Ron is pretty talented with his defensive spell casting, and all Y/N really had to focus on was flying them back to the Burrow safely. Which was good, because the fight she’d gotten into with George earlier in the evening was still weighing heavily on her mind.

She wasn’t even supposed to be there. The original plan had been that Y/N would stay behind at The Burrow with Ginny and Molly, that way if anyone came back injured she’d be there to help assist Molly with any healing. But then Tonks announced that she’s pregnant and Y/N made Mad Eye Moody change the plan so Y/N could take her place during the actual mission. Which George was not happy about and they left the Burrow for Privet Drive still fuming from their fight.

“Teacup,” George coos, reaching out to stroke Y/N’s cheek. “You didn’t think you could get rid of me that easily, did you?” he teases, trying to get her to crack a smile. “Snivellous has wanted to take me out for years I reckon, it was only a matter of time before he tried.”

Y/N turns her head so she can kiss George’s palm lightly. “That’s not funny, George. You really could have died.”

“And you could have as well, Y/N,” George reminds her.

“Better me than Tonks,” Y/N mumbles, looking down at the floor.

“Don’t say that,” George responds firmly, gripping Y/N’s chin so he can make her look at him. There are tears spilling down her cheek, and George lets go of her chin so he can wipe them away with his thumb. Even in the dim light of the living room Y/N looks breathtakingly beautiful, and just the thought of living without her makes his stomach lurch. “Tonks is a big girl and would have been just fine going on the mission.”

“What if it was me? Hm?” Y/N asks, looking at George expectantly. “What if I was the pregnant one about to go on a mission that could kill me? Kill our unborn child? Wouldn’t you want someone to take my place?”

“Of course, I would, Y/N,” George chokes out around the few tears streaming down his cheeks. He’s not really sure when they started pouring out, but he imagines it was when Y/N mentioned their unborn child and death in the same breath. “But this is different.”

Y/N shakes her head. “How? How is Tonks being pregnant any different?”

“Because Tonks isn’t the person I want to spend the rest of my life with, Y/N. She’s not the person who I want to carry my children or raise my children with. It’s you.” George reaches down and grabs the charms of the necklace he gave Y/N, rubbing them between his thumb and his pointer finger. “When I gave you this necklace and promised you forever I meant it, teacup. I wanna marry you and have babies with you. And I can’t do that with you if you’re dead, can I?”

“You really think about all that stuff?” Y/N asks through her sniffles, her tone full of a mixture of surprise and disbelief. While she knows that her and George were both on the same page about starting a life together someday, she had no idea he was thinking that seriously about it. They’re just barely nineteen, and Y/N figured marriage and babies were far away in their future, so far away that they would never even cross George’s mind.

George motions for Y/N to come up and lay on the couch with him. “I’m not going to break. Get up here. I wanna hold you, teacup.” Once Y/N is settled on his chest, her head on his shoulder and their legs intertwined he continues. “Sometimes I can’t stop thinking about all that stuff. Like how we’re gonna get married someday. And live on a load of land somewhere. With some chickens and a dog. And a few ginger babies of course, can’t forget about them.”

Just George talking about them having children spikes Y/N’s heart rate, and she has to take a few deep breaths to try and calm herself down. “How many ginger babies are we gonna have?”

“Hm, I reckon maybe two or three? A boy first, and then a girl. And then I think another girl would be nice,” George explains, starting to slowly rub Y/N’s back. “Why, teacup? How many do you want?”

“At least four,” Y/N says seriously, tilting her head so she can look at George. “Two of each. Maybe even a set of twins. A mini Fred and George perhaps.”

George chuckles and leans down to kiss Y/N softly. “Really? You sure you could handle another set of me and Fred? We gave you quite a bit of hell back in our school days if you remember correctly.”

“Yeah and look at where we are now. Laying on a couch together talking about all the babies we’re gonna have,” Y/N points out with a chuckle. “Besides can you imagine McGonagall’s face when two mini versions of you show up at Hogwarts one day? Bet she’d quit on the spot.”

“Oh come on, good old Minnie loved us. And let’s not forget you caused a bit of trouble as well, Y/N. Just the thought of planting a garden still gives me nightmares after you dropped that load of Dragon Dung fertilizer on Fred and I,” George reminds her with a laugh.

“And you made my hair turn yellow for weeks! And made my tongue nearly explode,” Y/N counters. “You want me to list more? Because I can list more.”

“No it’s okay, I get the point.” George just sits there quietly for a moment, enjoying the feeling of Y/N’s weight on top of him. “Just promise me you’ll be careful out there, yeah? Can’t have our four ginger babies without you, Y/N.”

Y/N pulls George’s mouth down to hers again for a few moments. “You too, George. You’re kind of the whole ginger in the situation, so you’re pretty essential in the mix.”

“I promise,” George mumbles, pressing one more kiss to Y/N’s mouth.

“You think it’s been three minutes yet?” George whispers, bringing Y/N’s mind back to the present.

“Probably,” she responds, looking up at George. Y/N reaches up and touches his cheek softly. “You wanna do the honors?”

George reaches his hand out and grabs the pregnancy test, keeping it flipped upside down. “How about we look together?” When Y/N nods George brings the test in between them and he uses his free hand to grab one of hers. “On the count of three, yeah? One, two three.”

As soon as the last number leaves George’s mouth he flips the test over to look at the results. There’s two dark pink lines staring back at them, and her and George look back up at each other.

“What did the two lines mean again?” Y/N asks.

George frowns. “I was gonna ask you the same thing.”

They both start to throw their blankets and pillows away, trying to find where the box landed after Y/N threw it at George a few minutes ago. “Why didn’t you just buy the one with the words? You had to get the one you need a diagram to figure out.”

“I was overwhelmed, okay? I’ve never been in a muggle pharmacy before and there was like 25 different tests and I couldn’t tell the difference between them all and I just grabbed one at random,” George huffs. He feels his fingers skim over the cardboard box and his eyes light up as he grabs it. “Aha! Here it is!” George skims his eyes over the directions on the back a few times to make sure he fully understands them. “Two lines means pregnant.”

They both let out a small gasp as their eyes drop back down to the test still clutched in Y/N’s hand. The two lines look even more defined now that they know what it means, and when they make eye contact again there are tears pooling in both of their eyes.

“We’re pregnant?” Y/N asks breathily.

“Well I don’t know how pregnant I am. But you’re definitely pregnant,” George teases with a grin.

Y/N rolls her eyes and shoves George’s shoulder before she grabs it and pulls him into a kiss. “Can’t believe I’m having a baby with an idiot like you,” she mumbles between kisses.

“And I can’t believe I’m having a baby with a meanie like you,” George responds playfully, placing his hand on Y/N’s stomach. He spreads his fingers and presses down lightly, as if there’s something there for him to feel already. “I love you,” he murmurs, resting his forehead against Y/N’s.

“You talking to me or the baby?” she asks quietly, placing her hand on top of George’s.

“Both.”

Fred Weasley ll comes into the world amidst a flurry of chaos, and it only feels right considering who his namesake is.

The day started out like any other. With her maternity leave in full effect, Y/N decided to head to the joke shop with George. While she can’t do much of anything besides sit behind the till and ring customers out, it made her feel good to be helpful rather than just sitting around the house twiddling her thumbs waiting for George to get home. And she knew George liked the fact that he could keep an eye on her throughout the day.

The pain started not too long after opening. At first she just passed it off as normal pregnancy pains, because she was nearly full term and she couldn’t remember the last time she didn’t have a dull ache radiating through some part of her body. But by midafternoon the pain was radiating through her back and down into her pelvis and not even sitting down eased it. She tried to hide it from George, not wanting him to go into full panic mode during the workday. But then he noticed her wincing as she sat back down after lunch and George started keeping an annoyingly close eye on her.

And then her water broke. George was cleaning up around the checkout counter and some dust that had been kicked up irritated Y/N’s nose and she couldn’t help but sneeze hard. When the liquid first started to leak out she was mortified, figuring she’d just pissed herself. But then she stood up and a large flush of liquid came out along with the largest pain she’d ever felt in her lower half. Y/N and George had just stared at each other for a moment, before realization hit them both. Clearly this baby was coming and coming soon.

George had one of the shop employees send an owl to his Mum while he helped Y/N up the stairs, wanting to Floo them over to St. Mungo’s as quickly as possible. Every few steps they’d had to stop so Y/N could breathe through a contraction, and by the time they reached the fireplace in their old flat George was surprised the baby hadn’t slipped out yet. Except when he reaches into the bowl on the mantle to grab some Floo Powder his fingers didn’t find anything.

They’d had to shuffle their way through Diagon Alley to use the public Floo at the Leaky Cauldron, and by the time they reached St. Mungo’s Y/N was already on the verge of giving birth and both she and George were soaked to the bone from the torrential downpour the sky unleashed halfway through their journey.

Baby Fred was born as thunder started to rumble, and he let out his first cry just as a flash of lightening came crashing down. Y/N is sure both she and George were crying harder than the rain that was going on outside. Fred’s eyes were already open when the Healer placed him on Y/N’s chest, and he was blinking up at her with wide brown eyes. He was already the spitting image of his Father, but the tufts of hair coming out of his head more resembled the color of Y/N’s hair. And while Y/N has never been particularly confident in the magic of Divination, she felt deep in her chest that he was the little boy she’d seen in her dream.

“What’s on your mind, Dad?” Y/N asks George quietly with a grin. It’s well past midnight, and little baby Fred is sleeping soundly against Y/N’s chest. George has been sitting in the chair next to Y/N’s hospital bed for the past hour watching their son’s chest rise up and down slowly, a look of concentration on his face.

“You sure it’s okay we named him after Fred?” George asks, looking up at Y/N. “We could have named him after your Dad. I didn’t even think about that. I should have thought about that.”

Y/N chuckles and pats the edge of her bed carefully, inviting George to come and sit with her. “Can I tell you about a dream I had? I think it might make you feel better.”

“Was it a sexy dream?” George asks with a raise of his eyebrows as he comes and sits down with Y/N. He rests one of his hands on Fred’s back, lightly stroking it with his thumb.

“No, it was not a sexy dream you oaf,” Y/N responds with an eye roll. “It was a couple nights before we moved, before I knew I was pregnant. It was summertime, and I was out in the backyard at the house. And Fred was there. He was chasing this little boy around in that field, the one we turned into the Quidditch pitch. And the little boy, he had my color hair but his face, his face was all you George. And then he called me Mum, and ran towards me, but I woke up before he got to me.”

George just sits there for a moment, letting Y/N’s words sink in. He suddenly feels overcome with emotion as he thinks about what she said, and he has to wipe away a few of the tears that escape his eyes. “That’s funny you say that, because I had a similar dream to that the night we found out you were pregnant.”

Y/N raises her eyebrows as she looks at George. “Really? What happened?”

“I was back at the Burrow. It was empty, quiet. But I could hear a creaking noise. And I followed it all the way up the stairs, to Fred and I’s old room. It looked the same, except there was a rocking chair in the corner. And Fred was sitting in it, and he was rocking back and forth, holding a baby. We made eye contact, but he didn’t say anything. He just gave me a little wink and then I woke up.”

“I don’t know a lot about divination or dream analysis. I don’t really know if I believe in any of it either. But I have a feeling we had those dreams for a reason,” Y/N explains, reaching up to cup one of George’s cheeks. “Like that was Fred, I dunno. Hand picking his name sake or something. Someone just as mischievous as him. A little pay back for Percy being your best man, perhaps?”

George laughs quietly and reaches a hand up to grab Y/N’s intertwining their fingers and giving them a soft squeeze. “You know what, teacup. I think you’re right. I have a feeling we’re in for a wild ride. And I can’t wait.”

And what a wild ride it is.

By the time George and Y/N are celebrating their 10-year wedding anniversary their house is steadily filling up with kids and with all the trouble they get into it’s a good thing George pushed Y/N to fulfill her dreams of being a Healer. It seems every day at least one of their kids is getting injured in some way: a scraped knee, a bump on the head, a bit of smoke inhalation from a whizbang George let Fred set off inside of the house. With how wild and unpredictable their kids are every day is an adventure, even the most mundane family days always seem to end up with something unexpected getting thrown into the mix.

“Mum! Mum! Can you open this for me? Please?” Fred asks excitedly, holding a candy bar up to Y/N’s face.

She eyes him wearily, taking it from him slowly. “Did your Dad say you could have this?”

Fred grins up at Y/N, and he looks so much like his Dad that it melts her heart. “Well he didn’t say no.” When Y/N narrows her eyes at him he lets out a giggle. “He was in the middle of filling something out and he told me to ask you.”

It’s a Saturday, so the whole family is at the joke shop together. Once Fred was born George hated having to leave him and Y/N at home when he went into the shop, so she started tagging along with the baby. It was a nice way for them to spend time together as a family, and when Y/N went back to work and the weekend became their only full family days it seemed natural for her and Fred to tag along with George to work. Now several years and a few more kids later, it’s still Y/N’s favorite family tradition.

“And so, you decided to ask me if you could have the candy bar, by asking me to open it?” Y/N asks with a laugh.

“Well if you said yes to opening it, that kinda already answers the whole, can I have it question,” Fred reasons.

Y/N rolls her eyes fondly and tears open the candy bar. “Nine years old and you’re already trying to out smart me. I’m so proud of you.” She leans down to press a kiss to his messy hair before handing him the sweet. “Share that with your sister, yeah? It’s 10 am I don’t need you on a full sugar rush already.”

“Thanks Mum!”

Fred runs off just as George comes up and he watches his son disappear with a fond shake of his head. “Oh to be young and have energy,” he muses with a grin, wrapping his arms around Y/N’s waist.

“Please, you still have plenty of energy left. Or have you forgotten how we got into this mess?” Y/N asks with a grin, pointing down at her bump. In just a few short weeks their family will be growing by two more, and Y/N is already exhausted just thinking about having to run after five kids.

“Oh trust me, I definitely remember how I got us into that mess,” George responds cheekily, leaning down to kiss Y/N sweetly. Luckily the store has been pretty slow so far, and they can spend the next few moments moving their lips together softly, just enjoying being in each other’s presence.

“Ew, gross,” Freya giggles, standing up on her tiptoes so she can peer at her parents over the checkout counter.

Y/N pulls away from George’s mouth with a sigh, turning her head to look at their youngest. All that’s visible over the counter is her wide eyes and the mess of fiery red curls on the top of her head. “Can we help you with something, nugget?”

Freya’s head disappears then and a few seconds later she reappears next to George’s leg, raising her arms up and bouncing on her toes. “Up please!”

“Ah, the Queen has made her demands!” George announces playfully. He gives Y/N a wink before letting her go, and he leans down to grab Freya, placing her on his shoulders. “Is this high enough for you, my Queen?” he asks, tickling her sides lightly.

“Daddy!” Freya squeals between her giggles, trying to get away from George’s attack. “No more, no more!”

George chuckles and gives her one more tickle. “Alright, alright, no more tickles.” The bell above the door jingles then and George leans down to give Y/N one final kiss. “Duty calls. I love you, teacup.”

“Love you too, Georgie.” Y/N reaches up and tugs on one of Freya’s curls. Despite the fact that she’s only three and has quite a bit of hair they’ve yet to cut any of it, and Y/N watches the long curl bounce back into place when she lets it go. “See you in a bit, nugget.”

Freya gives a little salute as George starts to head towards the customer before tangling her hands in his hair and pulling on them as if she were pulling on reins. “Horsey, horsey!”

George actually starts to move as if he were galloping, and Y/N shakes her head fondly as their daughter starts to laugh.

The store starts to pick up then, and for a few hours it seems like there’s a never-ending stream of people filtering through the door. Every once in a while Y/N gets a glimpse of George over the crowds of people, since Freya is still happily sitting on his shoulders, and every now and again Y/N watches the crowd part as Fred or Roxanne run through it.

They’ve just opened back up after shutting down for lunch, and Y/N has her back to the shop as she sorts through some of the mail. She turns around at the sound of someone clearing their throat and her heart drops into her stomach.

“Daphne. Hi,” she greets quietly, stepping back up to the counter.

It’s been over a decade since she last saw her old best friend, but the memory of their last conversation comes flooding back to her as if it took place yesterday.

“I can’t believe you’re moving in with George Weasley,” Daphne muses with a grin as she watches Y/N pack a few things away.

It’s been just over a month since they graduated from Hogwarts, and with her Healer training starting soon, Y/N decided to take George up on his offer to move into the flat above the joke shop with him and Fred. Now that they’re both transitioning into adulthood, their free time to spend together is sparse, and even though taking this next step is scary Y/N can’t wait to be officially living with George.

“I know, right? This time last year all I could think about was getting revenge on him and Fred for turning my hair yellow. And now all I can think about is the fact that I get to wake up next to him every morning,” Y/N admits with a soft blush.

“Just George and his little teacup,” Daphne teases, laughing wildly when Y/N throws a pillow at her.

Ginny had once jokingly suggested Y/N get a teacup pin after she noticed the teapot pin Y/N bought for George, since they’re always together and Y/N is so much smaller than George. After that day George’s new nickname for Y/N became teacup. And while she pretends that it annoys her, deep down she actually really loves it.

“You’re one to talk, Daph. It’s only what? A month until the wedding?” Y/N points out with a laugh. The smile on Daphne’s face falters and Y/N gives her a look. “What’s up? You’re not getting cold feet, are you?”

Daphne shakes her head as she sits up, giving Y/N a look. “No, of course not. I like to give Marcus a lot of shit pretty much all the time, but I really do love him. There’s just something I wanna talk to you about.”

“Oh?” Y/N asks quietly, sitting down across from her. There are very few things Daphne gets flustered over, and with the look she has on her face Y/N can tell she’s about to say something serious.

“You um. You can’t come. To the wedding,” Daphne stutters out, casting her gaze downwards. “Adrian said he’s not coming if you do and he’s Marcus’ best friend and I just want our wedding to be perfect and I know he’ll be upset if Adrian doesn’t come.”

Y/N can feel tears start to form in the corners of her eyes and she quickly tries to blink them away. “What? Daphne we’ve been best friends since we were eleven. You’re not going to be upset that I’m not there?”

“No of course I am! Y/N you know you’re like a sister to me. But Marcus is going to be my husband and it’s my job to do everything in my power to make him happy,” Daphne responds, reaching out to grab Y/N’s hand.

But Y/N pulls away and stands up. “Daph, it’s your wedding day too. You should have a say in who gets to be there.” Y/N pauses and just looks at Daphne, thinking about all the things they’ve been through together over the past seven years. “You’re really going to choose Adrian over me?”

“You chose George over us,” Daphne reminds her, finally making eye contact with Y/N again.

“That was different Daphne and you know that. I put space between me and Adrian because he was breaking the boundaries of our friendship and it was making George uncomfortable. And it was clearly the right decision since he kissed me and tried to get me to leave George at graduation.” Y/N sighs and crosses her arms over her chest. “George didn’t force me to do anything, Marcus is clearly forcing you to do this.”

Daphne rolls her eyes. “Marcus isn’t forcing me to do anything, I’m just doing my duty as his future wife.”

“That’s a bunch of crap and you know it. If Marcus really loved you he wouldn’t let some stupid drama from school get in the way of you being just as happy as he is,” Y/N responds firmly.

Daphne stands up then, her expression angry. “Don’t act so high and mighty, Y/N. Just because you have ambitions outside of being someone’s wife or a mother doesn’t mean you’re any better than I am.”

“Well at least when I get married I’ll be an equal in the relationship, rather than my husband’s little pet for him to boss around,” Y/N spits.

“You know what? Fuck you. You’re not welcome at my wedding. Or in my life in general.” Daphne grabs her bag and starts to storm out of Y/N’s bedroom.

“Who said I wanted to be in your life anyway?” Y/N shouts at Daphne’s back, listening to the sound of the front door slamming shut echo through the house.

“Oh. Um, hi, Y/N. I didn’t know that you worked here,” Daphne responds awkwardly, placing the few things in her arms down on the counter.

“Oh, I don’t work here, not really. I just come in on Saturdays, with the kids. It’s a good way for us to spend time together as a family.” Y/N starts to key the products into the register, not really sure what to say. The air between her and Daphne is awkward, and Y/N can see Marcus fidgeting a few feet behind Daphne, looking at some things on a shelf with a little boy. “These for your son?”

Daphne spares a glance over her shoulder at her son and Marcus, a small smile playing at the corners of her mouth. “No, they’re for Adrian’s son. It’s his birthday today, we’re having dinner with them tonight. Although MJ does love his fair share of Weasley products.” She pauses, letting her eyes flick down to Y/N’s bump for a moment. “Is that your first?”

“Four and five actually,” Y/N responds with a laugh. She gestures to where George is standing talking with one of the employees, Freya back on his shoulders. “That’s number three over there, Freya and funnily enough she also happens to be three. And over there,” Y/N pauses gesturing to the pygmy puff cage where a little girl with curly hair the same color as Y/N’s is happily petting a little black puff. “is Roxanne, number two. She just turned six and has spent the past few weeks trying to convince us to let her take home another pygmy puff.”

Y/N scans the store for a moment, trying to find Fred. When her eyes finally land on him he has his knees hooked around a rung of the ladder George uses to reach products on the upper shelves, and he’s hanging upside down with a toothy grin. “Fred Weasley ll you get off that ladder right now! You’ve already cracked your skull open once this year and I am not cleaning up anymore of your blood.” Fred laughs wildly as he climbs down, and Y/N shakes her head as she looks back to Daphne.

“That’ll be Fred, our oldest. He’s only a few years off from Hogwarts, and is it bad if I say I’m looking forward to it just a little bit?” Y/N asks with a small laugh.

Daphne laughs as well, grabbing her wallet to pay for their stuff. “Oh trust me, I’m right there with you. I don’t know how you do it, we’ve just got MJ and I feel like I can barely keep up with him. I’m looking forward to the peace and quiet when he’s off at school.”

“George is a great help, I don’t think I could do it without him. He loves being a Dad, and he’s pretty good at it too.” Y/N hands Daphne her bag and gives her a final smile. “Thanks for coming by. It was nice to see you.”

Roxanne comes up just as Daphne and Marcus leave the store with their son and pulls up a chair so she can climb up onto the counter, being careful not to let the black pygmy puff on her head fall off. “Who was that, Mummy?”

“Just a girl I was friends with, back when I was at Hogwarts,” Y/N responds sadly, tucking a stray curl behind Roxanne’s ear.

“Oh. You’re not friends anymore?” Roxanne asks with a frown.

Y/N shakes her head and leans forward to press a kiss to her daughter’s forehead. “No, not anymore. But that’s okay. We used to have loads and loads of fun together, and now I get to have loads and loads of fun with you and your siblings and your Dad.”

“I can’t wait to make tons of friends when I’m at Hogwarts. It’s so not fair that Freddie gets to go sooner than me.” Roxanne pauses, giving Y/N a cheeky grin. “Do you think if I snuck on the train they’d just let me stay?”

“Hmm, I don’t know love. Why don’t you give it a try when it’s time for Freddie to go?”

Roxanne giggles as Y/N presses a kiss to her forehead and she gives her mother an excited look when she pulls away. “Oh trust me, I’m planning on it.”

“You think she’s going to try and sneak onto the train?” George asks, leaning over to whisper in Y/N’s ear.

They’re heading towards the entrance to Platform 9 and ¾’s to send Fred off on his very first train ride to Hogwarts. Despite the fact that it’s been over two years since Roxanne first divulged her plan to sneak to Hogwarts with her older brother, she still hasn’t forgotten about it, and she had reminded Y/N and George of her plan last night when they tucked her into bed.

“I dunno, but I don’t think it would be a bad thing to keep an extra close eye on her,” Y/N responds with a chuckle. Roxanne and Freya are walking out in front of everyone, holding hands and twirling each other around. Their curls flounce as they move, and as if she can tell they’re talking about her, Roxanne looks back at her parents and gives them a wink.

Fred is in the middle, pushing his cart along all by himself. He insisted that he could handle it on his own, since he’s going to be off at Hogwarts, and even though Y/N can tell he’s struggling a bit the grin on his face keeps her from intervening. Not that she or George would be much help. Archer and Leo, their twins, are two now, and George has one attached to each leg, giggling wildly as he walks and Y/N has a baby wrap tied around her torso, with their three-month-old daughter Scarlet laying in it fast asleep.

When they reach the wall between platforms nine and ten, Roxanne and Freya pause, looking back at their parents.

“Can we go?” Roxanne asks hopefully, mischief in her eyes.

George laughs and shakes his head. “Let your Mum and Freddie go first, yeah? You two can go through with me after.”

Roxanne pouts but steps aside, nonetheless, pulling Freya to her side as Y/N comes to stand next to Fred. She puts one of her hands on his shoulder, and the other on the handle of the cart. “Ready?” she asks, looking at her son.

“More than ready,” Fred responds with a laugh.

They push through the barrier together, and the platform looks just the same as Y/N remembers. It’s bustling with people as per usual and as George and the girls join them they navigate through the crowd to try and find a spot to say goodbye.

Once Fred’s things are loaded onto the train, Freya and Roxanne are the first to hug him goodbye, but they’re both too entranced by the Platform and the train to really care that they won’t see him for the next few months. Archer and Leo are too busy chasing each other around the small area to care, but Fred grabs them both and presses a kiss to their heads before letting them toddle off after each other again.

George pulls him into a hug first, and his hands shake as a few tears slip down his cheeks. “Love you so much, bud. You’re gonna have so much fun, I promise. Your Mum tried to take it out, but I slipped that box of Wheeze products into your trunk this morning. Just send an owl when you’re getting low and I’ll send more.” He pulls away so he can look at Fred, and the bright look in his eyes reminds him so much of him and Fred when they were that age he has to take a moment to calm himself down. “I’m handing the prank torch down to you, and I know it’ll be in good hands.”

By the time Y/N is pulling Fred into a hug there are tears fully falling down her cheeks and they fall into his hair when she brings him in as close as she can. “Don’t get into too much trouble, yeah? But have fun and learn a lot, that’s kinda the whole point.” She pulls away to press a lingering kiss to his forehead and runs her hand through his wild hair. “And don’t be too hard on the Slytherins, yeah? Your future wife might just be one of them.”

“Ew,” Fred responds, scrunching up his nose.

Y/N laughs and presses one more kiss to his forehead. “I love you, Fred. Write loads, yeah?”

“All the time,” Fred promises. He reaches into the wrap to give his littlest sister a kiss on the head before he steps back to look at both of his parents. “Bye, love you guys.”

“Hang on, one more thing.” Fred pauses and looks up at George, watching as he takes the teapot pin off of the lapel of his jacket. “A piece of me and mum for you to have with you, yeah?”

It’s the first time Y/N has seen George without it and the tears streaming down her face fall harder as he pins it to their son’s sweater. Almost subconsciously she reaches up to grab at the charms of her necklace, letting their familiar texture soothe her as she watches Fred climb up onto the train.

Forever seemed like a long time when Y/N and George first promised it to each other on that journey back to Hogwarts all those years ago. But now, watching that same train carry their first born away as their other kids laugh and play around them it just doesn’t seem like enough.

#George weasley #George Weasley smut #george weasley imagine #gw #golden

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fairestwriting · 3 years

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slams open your door/ one angst request for a childhood g/n reader with deuce, ace, jack, ruggie and vil coming right up! "if we're still single by 30, let's get married! (for housing benefits lol)" it was a childish promise made in jest, but the boy never forgot. in the end, it ends with unrequited/pining feelings from one/both sides that cant be returned due to bad timing/prior engagements/etc when they reach of age (go hogwild with the scenarios lis!!)

(slams my hands on the table) yes yes yes yes YES i love this trope

+ if you like my writing, you can buy me a ko-fi to support me!

Deuce Spade

You make the promise to him after you confessed to your crush sometime in 7th grade and got rejected, left to cry by yourself behind the school. Out of all your friends, only Deuce came to comfort you -- And so you, in your dramatic childish glory, feeling like you’d never find anyone to love, tell him the two of you should get married if you’re single by 30.

Deuce remembers every detail of that event down to how your eyes gleamed with the tears, how the light of the sunset casted that golden glow on your hair -- It was when he knew he loved you. It took him a while to find the right words to describe the feeling, but he’d been feeling it for a long time.

He doesn’t pursue you because he feels like he’ll grow out of it. You go to NRC together, the two of you against the world, and it’s like everyday he falls in love a little more. You support him through his attempts of being a honors student, and on the day of your graduation, the first thing you do is hug each other tight, cheering about how you made it, you finally made it.

You don’t lose contact with each other even after school. Deuce and you are basically attached to the hip, meeting up every other week to talk about college and then your jobs. Through all of this time you’re friends, both of you go through a handful of relationships each, but none of them are really serious. As you approach 30, Deuce remembers that promise from back then.

When your birthday comes up, you’re sort of gloomy over recent breakup, and Deuce, naturally, is the first one to be there for you. He shows up in the morning with a gift and makes you breakfast, your dear best friend warming your heart once more. You rant about your latest partner and exchange anecdotes about how last week went before everything goes silent, and suddenly his hand is hesitantly on yours.

“D-Do you remember, um.” He begins, face flushed. “That promise we made in middle school? That if we were single until 30...”

You blink. Really, that? It felt like so long ago -- It was hard to remember even. You can barely catch what he was going to try to say before you laugh your middle school self off, snickering at how naive you were -- Something in Deuce seems to shatter, then, and his hand retracts. It’s so fast you can barely tell what’s happening.

And he stays with you through the birthday regardless, of course he does. He’s your dearest friend, isn’t he?

the rest is under the cut cause... its long

Ace Trappola

You hated Ace, initially. You met in kindergarten and he was the worst, literally. Always pulling pranks on everyone and acting just so infuriatingly cheeky, your 5 year old self learned real rage through that little redhead boy who always hid your things just to get a rise out of you.

One day you decided to prank him back, causing massive trouble in the classroom that ends with the two of you getting intensely scolded, and that’s how, somehow, a beautiful friendship blooms. Ace gets this sparkle in his eyes when you’re done getting yelled at, and says that the two of you should be friends and work together on doing this to other people.

Since then you two became inseparable. You’d never stop bickering, but you also never left each other’s side. The two of you were a menace, an absolute terror to your teachers -- Whether you were a good kid before meeting him or not didn’t matter, Ace is great at being a bad influence.

Near the end of 4th grade, you begin hearing about how one of your classmate’s single parent was getting married again. This sparked a big conversation between your class, somehow, with everyone declaring who they wanted to marry. It was a silly childish thing. When your turn comes, you proudly announce that when you grew up, you’d marry Ace if you hadn’t married anyone else by 30, ‘cause no one else would choose him but me! You snicker after making the comment, amused at how mean you were being, but somehow your snarkiness seems to fly over Ace’s head.

It’s a thing that happens that you two never really talk about again, but it ticks in the back of his mind for his whole life as you two grow up. Even entering middle and then high school, he always remembers it when he goes through some sort of romantic disappointment. You really were the only one who always stuck around, after all...

Years go by and somehow you’re still by each other’s side. Every birthday that passes Ace thinks about it a little more, he wonders if that promise from ages ago was true. When your 30th birthday comes up the promise is constantly in his mind, he’s driving himself up the wall with expectation. And he doesn’t even know why he’s feeling like that, really, you two are just childhood friends, right? There’s no reason for him to be feeling so... like this.

Eventually, he just blurts it out, a couple days after said birthday. You two are probably just hanging out and ranting about work when he goes “Hey, you remember that stuff you said in 4th grade? About, uh, us getting married?” And you go silent for a beat. His heart races as he wonders what the hell he’s doing, even.

But you laugh it all off. What, that stuff about marrying you? Yeah, I was such a dumb kid. I was right, though, look how you’re still single, you joke, and it feels like a punch to the gut to Ace. He laughs awkwardly with you. Yeah, sure, how foolish the two of your were for thinking of something like... you two... being together like that...

Jack Howl

Jack was, before everything, the scary boy in your 2nd grade class. Beastmen weren’t exactly common at school, especially wolves like him, so he ended up sticking out quite a lot. Most kids, your friends included, thought he was far too scary to approach. And Jack himself seemed to be fine with that, not really interacting much with anyone.

That was all he was for you until, one day, an older kid gets mad at you during lunch for bumping into them and staining their shirt with juice. They’re about two or three years ahead and so much taller than you, you’re genuinely scared -- And who would know that in a moment like this, the one kid in your class you weren’t very fond of would stand up for you, convincing the bully to go away.

Afterwards, Jack asks if you’re okay, you two end up eating together, and the rest is history. You find out he was actually really sweet, despite seeming so tough, and you get comfortable with it. Jack was always a reliable, loyal friend, someone you knew you could count on.

This included when your friends started being weirded out by you for getting close to the scary boy in class. They get it in their heads that you have a crush on him and tease you for it, which makes you upset, but Jack stands up for you again. This was enough for you to be pretty starry eyed at the age of 7, so you declared that, hey, who cares about what these mean kids are saying! Maybe you and Jack should be together anyway. Actually, if you two got to 30 and you were still single, you should get married! Jack gets just as starry eyed as you, and you seal a pinky promise that day.

What you never knew, though, was that he wouldn’t grow out of it -- Because as time goes by and you two grow up alongside each other, it ends up slipping your mind. You meet new people and learn new things, getting into some relationships here and there, and though you’d taken the promise seriously for a bit when you were a kid, it was just something you laughed about now.

You don’t even remember it on Jack’s 30th birthday. You’re one of the first people to show up to the small gathering, naturally, you had known each other since forever. You’re teasing him about how he was so perpetually single even now, that you were reaching “marriage age”, and this seems to fluster him a bit.

“Well...” He starts, his ears going slightly limp. “I wanted... to keep that promise, you know. From when we were kids.” His voice is quiet, uncertain. It’s different from how you usually hear him talk, and you have no idea what he’s talking about. You question him about it, and he’s wide eyed when he realizes that you actually forgot.

He questions you about it. How could you forget? You two actually made a pinky promise about it -- But you’re just confused as to why he’s bringing this up, saying that of course it wasn’t a big deal, you two were just kids when it happened! Was he really expecting something from that? And when you ask him that, he’s silent.

Needless to say, the birthday is soured. Jack asks for you to leave, it’s a mess. You don’t know what you did wrong, exactly, just like you’re not sure how you could possibly fix this.

Ruggie Bucchi

“Partners in crime” was the only possible way to describe what sort of relationship you had with Ruggie. It starts in elementary school, you’re walking around in a farmer’s market near the slums and you catch him taking a handful of apples from a stand, without paying. Your eyes are wide as you remember who that boy was, a classmate of yours, and despite what your family had taught you about stealing, you walk up to the person taking care of the stand, and start chatting with them to distract them.

You’re not sure what really made you want to help this boy you barely knew, but it turned out to be the one thing in your life you’re the most grateful for, because the next day, when he sees you again in class, he runs up to you to thank you so many times in a row. And since then, you two started spending time together.

And you got along so well! Ruggie got along with most of the other kids and you had some friends of your own, but nothing was compared to how close the two of you were. You two scheme your way in and out of trouble through your school days, and at one point you can barely imagine your life without him.

Sometime mid 6th grade, your classmates start talking of crushes and dating and such, which gives you a lot to think about. You’re a bit upset that you seem to be the only one who isn’t in on the new fun, so one day, when you’re hanging out with Ruggie, you complain about feeling like you’d be single forever. Ruggie laughs and says that if no one wanted to be with you, then no one would want to be with him either. You still wonder what that meant.

In a fit of childishness, you say decisively that if you two were single until you were 30, you’d get married. Looking back on it, you can’t tell if you were kidding or not, but Ruggie and you shake hands mid-laughs, like you’re sealing a deal.

So time goes by. You don’t think too hard about that promise and Ruggie... doesn’t seem to, either, you actually wonder what’s going through his head often, because he rarely tells you what he’s thinking. You end up going to NRC together, to both of your families’ joy, and that just ends up making you closer, as two kids from the less-privileged side of the Afterglow Savannah in such a prestigious academy...

Your bond ends up really fire-forged after those four years, so it’s no surprise to anyone that you’d still be close even after you graduate, even as adults. Nothing could break a friendship like this.

You think about it on the day of your 30th birthday, when you’re out for drinks with Ruggie to celebrate. Really, how the hell did you stick to each other’s side for so long? You ask him as you loop an arm around his neck, and he grins. “Well, maybe we should get married like you promised then, y’know... when we were brats.” He says, a little quieter than your previous conversation. There’s a hint of some kind of different feeling there that you don’t catch at the time, scoffing at him and going, yeah, in your dreams.

The rest of the night goes normally, though you don’t hear from him for a couple days afterward... and when you do, he barely looks you in the eye. You wonder if anything bad happened, if you did anything wrong.

Vil Schoenheit

When Vil Schoenheit moved into your town, everybody was talking about him before he even really set foot into the classroom. Everyone had seen him somewhere -- The poster boy of villainy in all your favorite movies, a kid with a pretty face and a haughty aura.

You’re as curious as everyone else to meet him, though you don’t really share that strange vindictiveness the other kids seemed to have, angered at Vil himself for what his characters put others through. It’s so stupid, you thought, isn’t he just the actor? He might actually be nice.

When he arrives into the classroom, people are about as annoying towards him as you expected. Their disdain towards Vil bothered you, he’d barely said anything to others and yet they were already pegging him as a mean, arrogant person. So stupid, you repeat to yourself, and you decide to talk to him normally, and that’s how your ages-long friendship came to life.

Vil wasn’t like anyone you’d ever met. You come to find that he’s rather haughty, yes, and very strict with pretty much everything, but he was also very kind deep down, and willing to help you with anything you needed. He was a good friend. He was also, as you came to find out as you grew a little more, astoundingly pretty. With people disliking his “villainy” or not, by the time you’re starting middle school, he already consistently gets confessed to.

You’re a bit jealous. Not because you wanted Vil for yourself, no, he was just a good friend, but you wished people would find you as attractive as they found him, sometimes. You express that to him when you’re walking home together one day, and he laughs it off, saying it wasn’t as good as you thought it’d be. Still, you make him promise that if you were single by 30, he’d have to marry you, because if he just let you die alone, he’d be a bad friend. Vil seems strangely mesmerized by that, but he agrees.

Time goes by, you get to watch each other grow. Even with all the people going in and out of Vil’s life, he seems to keep you closer to his heart than everyone, and you never really lose contact with each other. Even when he’s busy, with movies or modeling or school, he still makes time to check up on you, and you see each other often.

When you’re actually nearing 30, Vil has reached a sort of stardom that burned your eyes just looking at, and you were so goddamn proud of him it was real. Somehow, he still makes time to show up for your birthday, after about a month of not really seeing each other -- And he spoils you to death on that day, the two of you spending all of it together and talking until it was late at night.

As the sun is about to rise, though, Vil’s chattiness subsides. About as sleep deprived as you, he says, softly “So since we’ve gotten there, and we’re both still single... maybe we should fulfill that promise from years ago, shouldn’t we?” You take a moment to process it, it’s tough remembering exactly when you made such a promise, but eventually you do. You feel like that should’ve been a joke, but the way Vil looks at you isn’t saying joke at all.

You sort of laugh it off either way, though. What, that silly promise? You ask, are you rubbing it in that you’re prettier than me? I can still find a partner looking like this, y’know. You think it’s funny, but Vil suddenly falls completely silent.

He then sighs, almost wistful, and says “Sure you can” before the conversation progresses... you’re not sure what happened, but life goes on after that like nothing happened. Deep down, Vil is feeling stupid for having taken the promise to heart, like he should have known better... but if you never really meant it, then what could he do but give it up? Even though it was the thing he wanted to do the least... he valued your friendship too much to do something that could possibly ruin it.

#twst #twisted wonderland #disney twst #disney twisted wonderland #twst headcanons #twst imagines #twst x reader #deuce spade #ace trappola #jack howl #ruggie bucchi #vil schoenheit #deuce spade x reader #ace trappola x reader #jack howl x reader #ruggie bucchi x reader #lis writing

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uwurakax · 3 years

Text

i wanna make her mine ♡

pairing: iwaizumi x f!reader (oikawa x f!reader) ♡

genre: angst // unrequited love // iwa’s in love with his best friends girl yay // love triangle(ish?) ♡

summary: he knew it was wrong, but iwaizumi hajime couldn’t help the fact that he was in love with his best friends girl ♡

word count: 1.9k ♡

author’s note: it’s not super angst, just a little bit (i wasn’t in the angst feels but i like it - a little lolol oops). someone needs to take youtube away from me from listening to these songs ✌️😭 as always its not proofread, so any mistakes yIKES ty for coming (also crappy writing due to writing this at 5am no sleep as always) 🌚 ♡

♡ (inspired by jessie’s girl by rick springfield) ♡

Iwaizumi Hajime is a good friend. Despite his intimidating stature and the frown lines that decorate his brow, he really was a kind and considerate guy; in his own way of course. Did he yell and raise his voice? Did he get violent with a certain pretty best friend of his? Of course, it’s just how Iwaizumi was. However ask his teammates and fellow peers and they’d tell you how loyal he is, how he always looked out for his friends. How he always put them first.

No one believed this more than said pretty boy best friend, Oikawa Tōru. Although the setter, and captain of their volleyball team, always complained about his ‘brutish friend’, he couldn’t deny that he did appreciate his childhood friends support and constant worry. As mean and as violent as Iwaizumi could get with him, Oikawa knew that deep down he was caring and looking out for him in his own manner.

“Hey, make sure you don’t stay up all night”

“If you catch a cold, I’m going to punch you”

Yes, those around him would say that Iwaizumi Hajime is a great guy and a good best friend, even if he was a ‘bit of a brute’. Though if you were to ask Iwaizumi himself, he’d wholeheartedly disagree with you. Why would he? Well, the answer is very simple.

Iwaizumi Hajime is in love with his best friends girlfriend.

It went against every moral compass implemented by humans. Against every bro-code created by men decades before him. He knew it was wrong, completely and utterly wrong. He knew he’d never do that to you, and he’d most definitely never do that to Oikawa; but Iwaizumi couldn’t help how he felt in the slightest. If he could, he’d tear up every emotion of affection he had towards you.

But unfortunately for Iwaizumi, he couldn’t.

This wasn’t some vampire TV show. He couldn’t turn off his emotions or humanity, no matter how much he wanted to; and by God did Iwaizumi want to. So badly. It was sick and twisted, the feelings he had for you.

L/N, Y/N. A fellow third year student at Aoba Johsai High School, Class 5. It was like fate had it out for him. He had the unfortunate pleasure of not just being in the same class as you, but seated in the desk right next to yours as well.

Life truly was cruel.

In this entire school, in the entire prefecture, the entirety of Japan, hell even of all freaking Earth, it just had to be you. Why, oh why did it have to be you?

Why did you have to fall in love with his best friend? And why did he have to fall in love with you?

It wasn’t like Iwaizumi didn’t want Oikawa to be happy. On the contrary, Iwaizumi never wanted Oikawa to be upset. He rarely saw the pretty setter truly smile, always opting to charm his way with a toothy grin, no matter who was on the receiving end. Iwaizumi knew, and could easily see through his deceptive smirk. He noticed, however, that he never used that smile around you.

Iwaizumi only ever saw Oikawa’s real smile around you. He could see that his best friend never needed to fake anything around you. Everything about you just radiated goodness, honestly and truth. It was probably why Oikawa never wanted to pretend with you.

And it only ever made it harder for Iwaizumi to hide his feelings from you.

He’d watch the way you’d come into practice, immediately greeting everyone, and then eagerly run towards your boyfriend.

“Tōru, have you been over exerting yourself again?”

It wasn’t anything new, especially not to Iwaizumi. Oikawa always had a tendency to push his body over its limits. It was why the ace usually got violent with the setter; he’d never listen otherwise. He knew the drill, it was like clockwork. Oikawa would swear up and down that he didn’t, despite the grimace he tried to hide. He was such a natural actor, anybody else would be fooled by his performance. Not you though, he could never fool you, and Oikawa could never fool Iwaizumi. You both saw through him easily, but you knew how he’d be, and there was only one way to get him to listen.

“Iwa-chan!”

Iwaizumi wasn’t particularly fond of the nickname Oikawa had given him when they were children. He daresay he didn’t really care for it at all, Oikawa seemed a bit too old to still be using such a cute and childish nickname. Oikawa was stubborn though, and through the years, he just got used to it. No, Iwaizumi wasn’t keen on the nickname, but when it fell from your lips he suddenly didn’t mind it at all.

He’d look over at you and see you pout, almost demanding to know if Oikawa was overdoing it. Iwaizumi had gotten so used to it, your words barely registered anymore. It was one of the off chances where you looked at Iwaizumi and he could look at you, and not feel guilty about it. As much as he hated the damage Oikawa would do to his own body, he couldn’t help but think it was a small blessing in disguise from the universe. For Iwaizumi didn’t need to listen to you so intently like he did the first few times. Nowadays, he could just enjoy just looking at you without it being ‘weird’ or ‘creepy’.

The way you pouted, crossed your arms, scrunched up your face and spilled words of concern over his best friend, your boyfriend. You were so cute, so beautiful. He couldn’t help but wish that he was the one you’d worry over instead.

These little interactions, however brief, were enough for Iwaizumi. He knew they wouldn’t last forever, knew you were only here while you guys were still in high school. Knew that once you all graduated, he’d never see you daily. Iwaizumi couldn’t decide on whether that was a good or bad thing, but while you both had these exchanges, he’d savour every moment.

And so Iwaizumi would say what he always did. Complain back that ‘Shittykawa’ wouldn’t listen to him, that he was so stubborn, that you’d need to talk sense into him, because he’d never listen to anyone else like he did you. Honestly who could blame Oikawa? Iwaizumi is sure that if you asked him to travel to the ends of the earth, he would do it in a heartbeat.

After practice is over, Iwaizumi grabs his water bottle, quickly chugging down the much needed liquid. He was so caught up in his thoughts, he didn’t notice you make your way towards him. Not until you’re right in front of him. Your presence startles him, and you’re just so close. His hands start to sweat, heart accelerating and he can feel the blood rush quickly to his face. His heartbeat rings loudly in his ears, and he’s surprised he can even hear you over the deafening drumming.

“Hey Iwa, are you alright? Your face is all red”

Iwaizumi curses mentally to himself when he feels the back of your hand press to his forehead. Your skin felt so smooth and cool against his. He knows he’ll never be able to feel it again, and his heart sinks at the thought. You’ll never know it, and he’ll never tell, but Iwaizumi makes a mental note of this moment, wanting to ingrain it in his body and soul forever.

This will be one of Iwaizumi Hajime’s most cherished memories.

Iwaizumi gently takes your wrist and reluctantly pushes it away from his face. He inhales deeply, his body already missing your comforting touch.

“You feel hot, could be a fever?”

He lightly chuckles, trying to release the tension pent up in his body.

“No, it’s obviously just from practice. Of course I’m all hot and red, that’s what exercise does to you, dumbass”

With surprising softness, he flicks your forehead. It’s not enough to hurt, not in the slightest; but it’s enough to have you embarrassed.

“Y-yeah yeah, whatever. Iwa-chan”

Iwaizumi notices your nervousness and he swears to himself. It was disgusting, you’re his best friends girlfriend; but he just can’t help the thoughts of wishing he was the one that got to see that face more often.

“Are you sure you’re okay?”

“Yeah I’m fine. I gotta go help clean up, so I’ll see you later”

Oikawa was good at playing pretend, he had years of practice. No one knew that his best friend was a great pretender too.

It finally reaches the time where Iwaizumi can go home, and of course to his luck, he had to walk with Oikawa and you. You know how awkward it is to be the third wheel, and Iwaizumi is thankful of how considerate you are. It’s too bad his best friend wasn’t the same way.

He’ll watch you and Oikawa hold hands, smile and steal occasional quick pecks while you think he isn’t looking. Of course he see’s it though, he can’t help but look at you. At one point during your nightly stroll, you’ll shiver from the cold, and Iwaizumi so desperately wishes he could hold you, wrap his arms around you for warmth, but he knows he can’t.

So he just watches as Oikawa takes out his volleyball jacket and drapes it over you. You look good in white and teal, Iwaizumi thinks to himself. He hates how cute you look in it, and he feels his heart crack a little when you snuggle into it, sniffing the collar and inhaling Oikawa’s scent.

He tunes out the conversations you two are having, silently praying that you three can part ways at the next street. The sweet love confessions pouring out of both you and Oikawa taking a toll on Iwaizumi’s fragile heart.

You all finally make it to the crossroads where you part, the trio now to soon be a duo and a solo. Two’s company and three’s a crowd. It had never felt more truer than when he was with the two of you.

He’ll smile, make a joke about how he finally gets to go, being free of the nauseating presence of two lovers. You’ll roll your eyes and Oikawa will just refute with ‘Iwa-chan, you’re just jealous’. Oikawa has no idea how right he is.

So he goes, leaving behind the two of you at the corner. Iwaizumi takes a few steps and looks back, thinking he’d see your retreating form, but he doesn’t. He see’s you and Oikawa, still rooted in the corner, looking at each other with such love and admiration. Oikawa then leans down and kisses you deeply. You throw your arms around his neck, deepening it even further. Iwaizumi is no longer there, there’s no more prying eyes. The two of you didn’t need to pretend. You could freely express your love, no longer having to steal chaste kisses so your friend wouldn’t feel out of place.

Iwaizumi looks on and smiles sadly, before turning back around and making his way home. Oikawa Tōru was a natural actor, but so was Iwaizumi Hajime. Iwaizumi could fool everyone into thinking he was a good friend. No one would ever know he was secretly in love with his best friends girlfriend.

And no one would know how absolutely shattered his heart was every time he’d see the both of you together.

#haikyuu x reader #iwaizumi x reader #iwaizumi angst #haikyuu angst #hq angst #haikyuu!! angst #oikawa x reader #iwaizumi x y/n

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