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watchmegetobsessed · 3 years

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THE DEAL

a/n: i literally wrote it in less than a day because i was inspired by a movie... of god, i have issues, but ANYWAYS! this one is a classic friends with benefits to lovers story with so much angst and a grandiose love confession at the end so buckle up, you are in for a treat!! PLEASE PLEASE PLEEEEASE give feedback if you enjoyed it!!

pairing: Harry X Reader

warnings: some, drinking, sexual content, a hell lot of it, angst and messy emotions, it’s a lot!!

word count: 11.8k

masterlist

If your life was some romantic comedy his would be the moment where the camera would zoom on you, your eyes blankly glued to the ceiling, makeup from last night smudged under them as a muscular, inked arm gets thrown across your chest, a snoozing man beside you as you have the internal little monologue.

“You’re wondering how I got into this situation, right? Completely naked with one of my best friends after a night spent with heavy drinking and ending up fucking in his apartment until we both fell asleep.”

Yeah, this is probably what the voiceover would say as the camera would slowly get farther from you, Harry’s sleeping figure coming into the frame while you’re still lying like a damn statue. This was not supposed to happen. Not that it was bad, because oh God! Harry really is as good as his ex-girlfriends gushed to you when you met them on night outs. You could never blame the women for falling for him, he has the charm, the personality, the humor and definitely the looks. If you weren’t you, you’d be one of those girls who would do anything to get his attention just for a split second. But you’re not.

Growing up with a single mother that was repeatedly fucked over by several men, you were taught to be the kind of independent woman who needs no man. Who only uses them for whatever reason and throws them away before they could even realize what’s happening. Feelings could never be involved in the equations, those are just not for you.

For a while you thought you weren’t even capable of feeling anything at all. But the way you cried when your hamster you got for your sixteenth birthday died changed your mind and you realized that you are just saving yourself the time of allowing people to make you develop feelings for them and then give them the chance to break your heart. You’ve seen that happen to your mother enough times to know that you don’t want to go through that. It’s not worth it and why would you risk it all when you could easily get what you need and move on to the next one?

Your friends always joked how you’re gonna be the single aunt to their children later who would take them to clubs and honestly? You’re just fine with that. Because you always thought that while your married friends will be busy with keeping their marriage together with whatever pathetic man they chose to marry, you’ll be living your best life without a worry on the world. That sounds pretty good for you.

There’s no need to make it prettier than what it is, you’ve had a lot of hookups the past years but you always tried to keep yourself in check, have some kind of rules to follow so you don’t hurt yourself or anyone else in the process. One of those were that under no circumstances would you ever sleep with a friend. No matter how badly you want to, no matter if they are begging, it can never happen.

But you broke that rule.

Turning your head to the side you look at Harry’s sleeping face squished into the pillow and you almost wince, because you know that when he wakes up, this gonna hurt like a bitch. He’s gonna freak out, or what’s worse, he’ll want to take it further, take you out on a date… be in a relationship with you! And you’ll have to break his heart because none of those will ever happen.

You and Harry went to high school together and he is one of the very few people you stayed in touch after graduation. Though you grew a little apart when you went to different universities, later on you both somehow ended up in New York and while you’re working as a graphic designer at a magazine, Harry is making good money from writing music for other artists. He’s been one of your closest friends these past years and while you’ve always found him attractive, you should have never let this happen, because it will mess everything up and you didn’t want to lose such a good friend.

Harry stirs in his sleep next to you, his hand squeezing your side before his eyes blink open, green irises finding your wide eyes. He stops for a moment, looking around, taking in his surroundings before his eyes fall closed again.

“Wow, must have been one wild night?” he mumbles into the pillow before a raspy chuckle falls from his lips.

Last night, the two of you and a couple of your mutual friends celebrated that Harry has gotten his biggest deal so far, having to write an entire album for an up-and-coming artist, so you all got pretty wasted, especially you and him. It’s a little blurry how the two of you ended up like this, but you do remember wildly making out hidden somewhere behind the bar before he asked if you wanted to come to his place. You stupid little thing, should have said no…

Groaning, Harry rolls to his back, his arm falling from you as he lies sprawled out next to you.

“The tequila shots. Shouldn’t have had them,” you rasp out, a smirk tugging on his lips at your words. “So, um… we both can agree this was a one time thing, right?”

Harry peeks at you, pushing himself up a bit so his head rests against the headboard. The sheets slide down a bit lower on his body, revealing his toned chest and his several tattoos. Memories of you kissing them eagerly last night flash into your mind and you can only hope you’re not blushing like a school girl.

“What if I don’t agree?” Harry cocks an eyebrow and you almost groan. You knew this was going to happen!

“Harry, I’m not going out with you. You know me, I don’t do that. It’s nice that you think that it could work between us, but I don’t do relationships and I’m not changing my rules, not even for you.”

Harry starts laughing, as if you just said the best joke of the century, his fingers pinching the bridge of his nose. You give him a puzzled look as you sit up, holding the sheets to your chest.

“Who talked about dating, Y/N?” he then asks. “You said last night was a one time thing. We fucked last night. What if that wasn’t the only time we did that?”

You start to put the pieces together, though you’d definitely be sharper if you already had your first coffee of the day.

“Are you trying to start a… friends with benefits thing with me?”

“I mean, you could call it whatever you want. I personally really enjoyed last night and judging from the way you were screaming my name, you did too.” Now you’re for sure blushing. “Why not do it again?”

“This is not a movie, H. I don’t think it’s manageable without ruining our friendship.”

“Have you ever tried something like this?” You shake your head no. “Then how could you know?”

“Have you tried it?”

“Never,” he chuckles. “But that doesn’t mean I’m wrong. We are both cool, smart people. I think we can give it a try and whenever someone is feeling like they had enough, we’re just gonna stop.”

“What if you catch feelings?” you ask, raising eyebrows at him.

“Oh, but what if you fall for me?” he throws the question back with a cocky smirk and you smack his naked chest.

“You know I never do that!”

“I don’t think you can just decide that, but alright,” he chuckles, holding his hands up in defense. “I promise you I won’t catch feelings for you, Y/N. I swear on my…”

“Your mom’s and sister’s life!” you point at him. It’s clear that he thinks it’s silly, but you just keep staring at him until he gives in.

“I swear on my mum’s and my sister’s life that I will not catch feelings for you, Y/N.”

“Alright. And we can end it anytime?”

“Whenever you’ve had enough of me,” he smirks back, so pleased with himself that it’s clear he doesn’t think that could ever happen.

“If you keep that cocky look on your face it’s gonna be a very short deal, Styles,” you warn him, but he just laughs before he quickly pulls you back down to bed, getting on top of you, his hips sinking between your legs and you gasp when you feel that he is already semi-hard.

“Why don’t we get a head start on it then?” he offers, his lips crashing against yours before they travel down your body and soon enough he gives you something that’s a thousand times better than a coffee in the morning.

At first you’re clearly hesitant about it. Not sure if it was a good idea or you just ruined everything between you and Harry, but soon enough you realize that it wasn’t as bad of a decision as you thought it to be.

Harry is the one to call you for the first time, two days after the night you drunkenly hooked up. You’re just leaving the office when he hits you up, asking if you have plans for the night or you’re free to go over to his place. An hour later you find yourself pressed up against the wall of his apartment’s hallway, both of you eager to get each other out of your clothes. Now that it all happens without either of you being drunk, you actually have the chance to think about how good it is with him. He is just the perfect mixture of dominant and soft, knows when to be the boss and when he has to slow down a bit.

He makes you cum three times. Three mind-blowing times, and you also give him two orgasms. You try to make it equal and make it three, but he respectfully says no.

“If you touched my dick again I think I would start crying,” he chuckles jokingly, so you don’t even think about pushing it.

Instead, the two of you order Chinese, have dinner together, talking like you always used to before the deal and then you go home. There’s no awkwardness, no weird situations, not even when you leave. Harry leans closer and for a moment you think he is gonna be corny and kiss you goodbye, but then you feel him smack your ass before pushing you out the door, just like he always did before, joking about how he is gonna charge you rent if you stay any longer.

Nothing has changed, only that you now spend a good chunk of your time together naked, moaning each other’s name before you get back to your usual.

So after that you don’t shy away from reaching out to Harry as well. It becomes a regular thing, the two of you meeting up about two of three times a week. You fuck, hang out a bit and go your separate ways. Slowly, you start to forget about times when you stayed dressed up for more than ten minutes after meeting Harry.

You keep switching between your and his place, but sometimes meet somewhere in the middle. You’ve had sex in a restaurant bathroom, in his car in a parking garage and even in his cousin’s place in Brooklyn. That was a bit odd but still quite pleasing.

Tonight is going to be the first time you’re gonna be out with all your friends and Harry since the deal was made. No one knows about it and you intend to keep it that way.

Once you’re done at work you head home, texting Leticia, another friend from high school to meet you at your place to get ready together. She was Harry’s friend at first, what’s better, she openly hated you at first for some reason.

“You just had a punchable face at fifteen, you can’t blame me,” she used to tell you. It was actually Harry who made the two of you friends and you’ve been close ever since.

You get to your apartment almost at the same time. Leticia starts rambling about her asshole of a boss at the law firm where she works at as you open a bottle of wine to start the evening while you roam through your wardrobe for an outfit.

“Is Leo coming? I owe him a few bucks from last time,” Leticia wonders, digging into your dresser for a pair of tights she can borrow to pair with her leather skirt.

“I think he is, but he is going to be late. He is coming from Staten Island from his dad’s,” you muse, checking yourself out in the red dress you just tried on, not quite pleased with the look, so you quickly work down the zipper and look for something else.

“Um, whose is this?”

Turning around you see that Leticia is holding up a shirt Harry left at yours a few days ago. She is clearly confused about the men’s clothing between your stuff, because you are not one to steal them from the men you sleep with since you don’t really want anything from them to remind you of them.

“Oh, um, that’s… That’s Harry’s. He left it here a few days ago,” you shrug, not making a big deal out of it, but Leticia is nosier than that.

“And why is Harry leaving his clothes around your place?”

“Is that a crime?” you snort, trying to play it cool.

“No, but in what kind of situation did this shirt come off of Harry and end up in your dresser?”

You can’t think of a good answer that would stop her from interrogating you, and the way you’ve just gotten silent is telling her more than words could. She drops the shirt, eyes widening at you and it’s clear that she put two and two together.

“Oh my God! You’re sleeping with Harry!”

“No! I’m… I just—We…”

“You two are totally fucking! What the fuck!” she gasps in complete shock as you pinch the bridge of your nose.

“Let me explain it, alright? W-We hooked up on the night when we went out to celebrate his big album deal.”

“When I couldn’t go, right?”

“Yeah. So we were both very drunk and it just happened. And I really thought it would ruin everything but we somehow ended up making a deal.”

“Jesus, you guys are acting out the Friends With Benefits movie? Who are you, Mila fucking Kunis?”

“It’s not like that!” you defend yourself quickly, but then you realize that it’s just like that so far. “Well, it kind of is, but the ending won’t be like that.”

“Do you really think you can just do it with absolutely no strings?” Leticia sighs, her hands coming to her hips as she stares back at you.

“It’s been going great, so I really think it’s doable. And if any of us decides they had enough, we’ll just call it quits.”

“Yeah, because it’s that easy,” she rolls her eyes. “One of you will catch feelings and someone is gonna end up crying, Y/N.”

“No, that’s not gonna happen,” you shake your head stubbornly. “He promised it won’t happen.”

“Feelings don’t give a shit about promises! I hope you really know what you’re doing, because I don’t want to have to choose between the two of you,” she grumbles before throwing Harry’s shirt back into the drawer, grabbing the tights she’s been looking for.

Leticia doesn’t hold a grudge for the news she just found out, but she surely has gotten you thinking. Is it really gonna end bad? Why can’t there be a scenario where it goes perfectly fine and no one gets hurt? Harry promised it’s gonna be alright and he has been proven right so far, so why are you having second guesses now?

Arriving at the bar the majority of your friend group is already there, including Harry. You sit across him in the small booth, just exchanging a quick smile before the first round arrives and the evening starts. You allow yourself to take a better look at him while he listens to Mitch’s story and you can’t say that you don’t find him hot. He is wearing a vintage, floral printed shirt, the first few buttons left undone, so you have a nice view of his chest and his necklace you’ve felt under your lips so many times before when you were kissing down his body. He keeps twisting and playing with his several rings and it makes you stare at his hands for a tad bit longer than you intended to. God, he looks so damn good, you really just want to fuck him here and now.

You keep changing who goes up to the bar to order and the third round is yours, so sliding out of the booth you go to the bar and wait for your turn. A young, handsome guy is making the drinks and you clearly catch his eyes.

“And what can I get for you, beautiful?” he smirks at you when it’s finally your turn.

“Two vodka sodas, a martini and three vodka cranberries,” you smile back at him with a hint of flirting in your tone.

It’s kind of second nature to you, a few charming smiles and winks have gotten a lot of free things for you in your life and you never miss a chance to use your advances.

“All that for one pretty girl?” he teases you.

“I would be all over the floor if I drank all of it,” you chuckle, pulling your card out of your wallet, tapping it on the terminal as he finishes up the drinks, kindly putting them on a tray so you can easily bring them over to the booth.

“Don’t worry, I would surely pick you up then,” he winks at you, placing the last drink to the tray before you thank him and head back.

As you take your previous seat you notice that Harry is watching you intently.

“What?” you mouth him over the conversation at the table.

“Nothing,” he shakes his head, turning his gaze away, grabbing his drink and focusing back on everyone else.

You go up to the bar two more times, once to ask for some chips and once for some napkins after a drink has gotten spilt onto the table. Every time you exchange a few words with the bartender and you have to admit, he has a great sense of humor paired with his looks.

Sometime later in the evening you decide to switch to water, so you go up to the bar a fourth time, the bartender coming to you right away at this point. As you wait for him to grab you your drink you feel a hand on your lower back. Turning to the side you see Harry standing next to you.

“Hey, want to come to my place after this?” he asks, leaning closer to your ear. His hot breath hits your exposed skin on your neck and a shudder runs down your spine, especially with his hand still on the small of your back.

“You want a rerun of your first time?” you smirk back at him, referring to the drinks you both have had, though it’s definitely not as wild as that night was.

“No, but this dress is making it hard not to want to rip it off,” he bluntly tells you as you glance down at yourself. At last you decided to wear a black bodycon dress that surely shows every dip and curve of your body and apparently Harry has been enjoying the show.

The bartender arrives with your water, his eyes falling on Harry and you see that he is a little taken aback by his presence.

“Hey man, can you get me another one as well? I’ll pay for both,” Harry nods at him and there’s something foreign in his tone that you can’t really put your finger on. The bartender just nods back and goes to grab another water.

“What if I wasn’t in the mood?” you tease him, continuing the discussion where you left it a moment ago.

“Oh, please!” he chuckles smugly. “I saw you eyeing me from across the table, Y/N. I know you are definitely in the mood.”

He is right. So damn right. You’ve been crossing your legs under the table for a while now, feeling your arousal growing every time you saw him run his tongue over his lips or whenever his finger played with the lip of his glass, imagining him doing the same with your body.

Biting into your bottom lip you need to take a deep breath, but when Harry sees your teeth digging into your lip, he loses his patience.

“Or we can just do it now,” he growls lowly, grabbing your hand before he starts pulling you towards the restrooms. You don’t even have the chance to protest, not that you want to.

He is quick to pull you into an empty restroom, locking the door behind the two of you before his lips attack yours, pushing you against the door with vigor and hunger. His hands are already bunching your dress up around your waist and you moan his name when your hips meet and you feel his hard length through his jeans.

“We have to be quick, so no one notices we disappeared,” he pants as he helps you up to the counter, your back hitting the cold mirror behind you.

“Then shut up and just fuck me,” you challenge him and it makes him absolutely feral.

You don’t have time to enjoy it the way you usually do in bed, but the excitement of the situation alone has gotten you so wet that you’re already dripping when he pushes your panties to the side with one hand while his other works on his own pants.

“Fuck, already so wet for me, huh?” he breathes out, his lips brushing against yours before they kiss you fully.

“Just like how you’re rock hard for me,” you grin against his lips, a hand wandering down to his cock as you pull it out of his boxers, stroking it a few times before he pulls a condom out of his back pocket and wraps himself up. “Were you counting on this quickie, Styles?” you ask when you realize that he just had a condom ready on him.

“I knew for sure I’m gonna fuck you tonight, but wasn’t sure how long I’m gonna last,” he grins, capturing your lips again before he pushes himself inside you with no warning, making you both gasp.

“Fuck! Harry!” you moan as he starts moving rapidly, definitely not taking his time like he usually does. He is pounding into you without mercy, panting against your lips as his ring clad fingers are digging into the flesh of your thighs.

“You like that? Like it when I fuck you somewhere public?” he growls, making your legs curl around his hips.

Your hands move up his chest and neck, fingers tangling into his curls and you give them a tug, earning an animalistic grunt from him as he starts going even harder and faster. You’re rapidly getting closer to your orgasm.

“You close?” he pants and you nod. “Come on, cum all over my cock, Y/N.”

A few more thrusts and your walls tighten around his dick, squeezing him as you gasp, riding your high, your head falling backwards, meeting with the mirror behind you. Harry follows you a few pushes later, moaning your name repeatedly before his movements come to a halt and you both take a moment to catch your breath.

When he pulls out you both just quietly clean yourselves up, fixing your clothes and hair so you don’t entirely scream sex with your appearances.

“My offer to come to mine after still stands,” he smirks, running a hand through his hair before you head out.

“Tempting, but I have some work to do in the morning, so no,” you turn him down, stepping out to the dark hallway that leads back to the bar. Harry grabs your hand and pulls you back, his lips smashing against yours, surprising you with his move. He kisses you deeply, sucking on your bottom lip hard before he pulls back.

“What was that for?” you ask out of breath.

“If you’re not coming over, I needed something to have a good night,” he shrugs with a smug smirk before you return to the bar.

You catch the bartender’s look as you finally get your waters and Harry pays for them. You catch the two men eyeing each other for a moment before you and Harry return to the table and you forget about the whole thing.

A Sunday afternoon you’re lounging at Harry’s. You jumped at each other’s bones when you arrived, but now you’re chilling on his couch, watching a series you both wanted to start so you decided to give it a go together. Your leg is lying across Harry’s lap, his hands absentmindedly kneading your thighs. It feels nice, like a massage, especially after how sore he made you earlier, stretching you out more than he usually does with a new pose you tried out.

Your phone chimes next to you and tearing your gaze away from the TV you check to see who just sent you a text. It was one of your coworkers, Anthony, he sent you a raging text about how he still has no idea what to wear to the company party that’s gonna be next Saturday and you realize that you totally forgot about it.

“Shit!” you curse under your breath.

“What?” Harry asks, pausing the show.

“I have this stupid work party next weekend and I totally forgot about it,” you growl, checking your calendar quickly if you can squeeze in a quick shopping spree before Saturday or you’ll have to find something in your closet.

“Aren’t those things nice with a lot of free food and drinks?” Harry wonders.

“Yeah, but I don’t like it, because all my colleagues bring their partners and I’m usually the only single one and they keep trying to set me up with someone,” you roll your eyes even at the thought of having to suffer through another one of those awkward conversations about your love life. Like it’s any of their concern!

“I can go with you if that helps,” he offers and you give him a look over your phone. “What? I’m sure if you brought someone they wouldn’t bug you.”

“But we are not together,” you remind him narrowing your eyes at him.

“They don’t have to know that. It’s a win-win, Y/N. Your colleagues would stop nagging you and I can eat and drink for free,” he smirks, clearly pleased with his little plan.

“I mean… you’re not wrong,” you sigh.

“See? Then it’s settled,” he pats your legs, smirking widely at you, but you’re still not entirely convinced. “Come on, Y/N. It’s gonna be fun!”

“This is so cliché, Harry!” you groan, your head falling back against the arm of the couch. “Pretending to be a couple? Straight out of a damn movie.”

Harry lifts your legs up so he can get out from under them, placing them back to the cushion before he climbs over to you, half of his body pressing onto yours as he squints his eyes at you.

“We can fuck in the bathroom, if you want,” he bluntly offers and you just start laughing at his dirty mind and technique of convincing you. “What? There’s literally no better offer out there. Free food, free drinks and free sex. Really good sex, if I may add,” he points out and you smack his chest lightly.

“Didn’t know you were thinking about charging me for the sex,” you joke.

“Might as well do, baby. Especially if it’s the best you can get,” he smugly huffs and you’d retort something funny, but you get caught up on the name.

“Baby? Since when are you calling me baby?”

“Since we are gonna be a couple next week. Gotta rehearse, baby,” he repeats the nickname and a foreign feeling bubbles in the pit of your stomach. Why is this one little word making you feel things you haven’t before? “And you know what else we can rehearse?” he continues, oblivious to your inner dialogue.

You don’t get to answer upon feeling his hand slide between your legs, fingers gently pressing onto your clothed clit and though you can’t stop a moan from slipping through your lips, you still grab his wrist and pull him away.

“My legs are too sore, I wouldn’t enjoy another round of you pounding into me,” you tell him and you can see the proud glimmer in his eyes that he was the one who got you into this state, though he luckily doesn’t comment on it.

“It doesn’t have to be pounding, then,” he smirks and leaning down he kisses you, taking his time as his hand frees itself from your grip and slides under your shorts and panties, fingers meeting your already throbbing bud.

He repositions himself so one of his thighs are between your legs, his lips never leaving yours as his fingers start drawing circles on your clit, sending pleasure down your body in waves.

“Fuck,” you breathe out against his lips when two of his fingers tease your entrance before pushing all the way inside, curling them between your clenching, wet walls.

“No, we are not fucking right now,” he smirks, never missing a chance to joke around and you want to retort to his comment, but words get caught in your throat when his thumb starts playing with your clit, fingers sliding in and out of you in a steady rhythm.

“So, are we on for Saturday? It’s gonna be fun, hm?”

The little shit is using his fingers to convince you and he has the audacity to ask you questions when you are about to see stars. Sometimes you really do hate how big of a smug fucker Harry is, but it’s hard to feel hatred for him when he is about to make you cum again.

“I-I don’t… Harry!” you gasp when he abruptly pulls his fingers out of you, right when you were so close. “I was about to fucking cum!” you growl, raging eyes meeting his green irises.

“I know,” he chuckles. “Say that you’re in and I’ll make you cum.”

“You motherfu—“

You don’t get to finish, his lips smashing against yours as his fingers return, moving faster than before, quickly pushing you towards the edge again.

“Say it. Say it, Y/N,” he mumbles against your lips as your chest is heaving and you start buckling your hips to meet his movements.

“Fuck… Okay! I’m in, just please make me cum!” you whine, hands gripping his shoulders like your life depends on it.

“Good girl,” he smirks and finishes you off without any more teasing.

You cry out his name, fingers digging into his muscles as you push your thighs together, trapping his hand between them while he keeps fingering you oh so perfectly. He makes sure you ride out the last waves of your orgasm before he pulls his fingers out and without batting an eye, he just licks them and fixes your panties and shorts before returning to his previous position with your legs across his lap, starting the show like nothing really happened.

Saturday morning you’re able to quickly get your nails done and Leticia comes with you, the two of you having brunch together afterwards. You go to a new place near the nail salon and as the waiter arrives with your orders, you notice that he slides a napkin onto the table with a small smile.

Grabbing it you see a phone number scribbled onto it. Normally, you send back a smile and tug the napkin into your purse, but this time you just leave it on the table and decide to ignore it.

“What the hell is up with you?” Leticia asks and glancing up at her you see her gesturing towards the napkin. “You don’t seem too thrilled about the approach which is very unlike you.”

“Yeah, I don’t know. I’m just… not interested,” you shrug, reaching for your fork.

“Not interested? The dude looks like the lovechild of Chris Hemsworth and Johnny Depp. He is exactly your type, what the fuck is wrong with you?”

“I’m just not seeking another hookup right now, that’s it.”

“Oh my God!” Leticia gasps and you give her a puzzled look.

“What?”

“You don’t want other men because of Harry!”

“What? That’s crazy,” you laugh, because she has clearly left her mind at the salon for even thinking that.

“Have you hooked up with anyone else than Harry since you’ve made your little deal?”

“I, uhh… Flirted with the bartender when we were out together.”

“Flirting doesn’t count, not even in relationships.”

“I don’t think many would agree with that, Tish,” you huff.

“Okay, but did you have any interest in fucking someone else?”

“I don’t get it why you are making a big deal out of it. Why would I seek anyone else if I’m perfectly pleased by him?”

“Honey, that’s like… how relationships work.”

“That’s not true,” you shake your head, though what would you know about relationships? Your first and only one was when you were seventeen and it lasted twenty-one pathetic days.

“Are you fucking with anyone else?” She asks, eyebrows raised at you as you shake your head no. “Are you fucking him?”

“Obviously,” you scoff.

“Do you spend time together that doesn’t include sex?”

You are almost quick to say no, but then you realize that would be a big ass lie. Every time he comes over to your place or you’re at his, it’s never just the sex. That’s always primary, but not everything you do. All the dinners, the movies and shows you’ve watched together, when you sit on your tiny balcony with a bottle of wine, talking and laughing like you always did before the deal, something always happens after the sex.

Your silence once again answers Leticia’s question. Reaching over the table she takes your hand in hers, giving it a soft squeeze.

“Girl, you are totally dating Harry.”

Leticia once again manages to put a flea in your ear about this whole Harry thing. You wish she didn’t say a thing, because now you can’t think of anything else than the fact that you really are doing all the things with Harry that people who are dating do.

You get so riled up that you almost cancel on the evening, but you’d hate to have to sit through the evening with your colleagues alone when you said you’d be bringing someone. That would make their usual nagging a hundred times worse. So instead, you suck it up and decide to ignore the issue just for the time being and you get ready.

You were able to find a new dress beforehand, the yellow dress is truly a sight to the sore eyes with the corset-like top and very subtle lace details here and there. It’s a little daring, but everyone goes all out for these parties usually and you definitely don’t want to be underdressed.

Harry texts you that he is in front of the building a little before seven, holding up the taxi he came with so you quickly grab everything you need and head out.

You’re the first one to see him through the glass entrance doors of your building, he is standing next to the car in a simple black suit and a soft yellow shirt underneath. It was actually your idea to match your outfits and he surely understood the assignment, especially seeing his also yellow nails.

Part of you is still hung up on what Leticia told you, but a bigger one is so excited to see him and also very into his look for the evening, that you push your doubts to the back of your mind and step out of the building with a shy smile on your lips as his eyes fall on you and you see his lips part.

“Wow! This dress is… wow!” he breathes out, his eyes raking your frame up and down shamelessly as you walk closer.

“Do you know any other words than wow?” you tease him, biting into your bottom lip.

“Yeah. How about: I would love to bend you over this taxi and take you here and now in this dress?”

Your face heats up immediately, slapping his arm, but then you leave your hand on his bicep and give it a squeeze as your answer: you’d definitely love that if it wasn’t kind of illegal to have sex out on a busy street.

The ignorance in you is so high that you don’t even mind how Harry keeps a hand on your thigh in the car, what’s more, you’re quite liking the warmth of his touch on you. His fingers are gently tapping against the music the driver is playing and he even hums a little along the songs.

“Hey, how is the album writing going?” you ask to break the silence a little.

“Great! They asked for fifteen songs until the end of August, so I have plenty of time, but I’m already done with six,” he beams, and you smile back at him proudly.

“That’s amazing. Can I hear any of them sometime?”

“I mean… if you buy the album?” he chuckles, making you roll your eyes at him. “I’ll see what I can do about that,” he then adds, giving your leg another squeeze before turning towards the window.

The party is just the same as it always is. A luxurious evening to celebrate the company’s success in the past six months, a way to give back to the employees and make them feel appreciated with all the free stuff. It’s nice, but you don’t feel like it’s necessary, people would be happier with a raise after all, than one night of free food and drinks.

Harry holds your hand as you walk in, the majority of the guests already present, music playing and there are several open buffet tables and bars in the gigantic ballroom that was decorated in a forest-like theme just for tonight.

“So you did not lie about bringing a date!” Anthony beams as soon as he sees you, his boyfriend, Pete following him right behind, both of them wearing matching burgundy suits.

“Have I lied to you about anything?” you chuckle awkwardly.

“Plenty of times,” he points out before turning towards Harry. “Hello handsome, I’m Anthony, Y/N’s favorite coworker, and this is my boyfriend, Pete.” They all shake hands, Harry smiling back at them warmly before his hand finds yours again, his fingers lacing together with yours in an instant.

“Nice to meet you. I’ve heard a lot about you, I’m Harry.”

“Oh my! The accent!” Anthony gushes, clearly already a fan of Harry’s. “I was really afraid Y/N just said that she is bringing someone so we would get out of her hair this time.”

“I feel offended,” you give him a look, but he just shrugs it off, even though he is more right than he knows.

“Come on, let’s get you guys a drink, we are all sitting over there!”

Joining all your coworkers at the table, you get a head start on the food and drinks, not shying away from stacking everything you like onto your plate. Talking, mixing and mingling, Harry stays right next to you, charming everyone the two of you meet, earning you some approving looks from your colleagues that usually try to set you up with someone they know. This time, you’re left in peace the moment they see Harry with you, his hand always somewhere on you, holding your hand, the small of your back, your hips or waist or, your personal favorite, the back of your neck under your hair. His presence is uplifting already, but his tiny touches just warm you even more on the inside.

“I have to say, Y/N, you are absolutely glowing!” Dianne, one of the editors compliment you when the two of you are at the bar waiting for your drinks to be refilled. Harry stayed back at the table, deep in conversation with Pete about guitars, from what you could understand from their conversation.

“Oh, thank you!” you chuckle softly.

“This man is for sure treating you well. It’s so great to see you finally finding your person.”

She meant well with her comment, but it’s what brings everything you kept hidden in the back of your head out to the front. Tonight was supposed to be all pretending, making everyone believe something that’s not even there, but then why do you feel like it’s real? Like you fooled yourself with everyone else as well?

Your eyes fall back to Harry at the table, who is intently listening to something Pete is telling him and as if he had a sixth sense, his eyes snap at you, a smile stretching across his pretty face at an instant that makes you stomach dance again, heart beating oddly fast.

What is happening to you? This cannot be real, you can’t be having feelings, especially not for Harry. No, you do not allow that for yourself, emotions are off limits for you, because if you fall for someone that gives them the chance to leave you and break you and you’ve seen what it does to a woman. You got enough of the suffering through your mother and you vowed not to let it happen to you. And not even Harry Styles will change that. This is about sex and nothing else, no feelings are involved and that will not change. You won’t let it.

Excusing yourself from Dianne you quickly go back to the table, the refills long forgotten as you take your seat next to Harry. His hand instantly finds your leg as he looks at you with a sweet smile at first that turns into slight confusion.

“Thought you went for a refill?”

“Forget the drinks,” you shake your head, leaning closer to his ear. “You promised me bathroom sex.”

You feel the shift in him right away, how he bites into his bottom lip, his bright green irises darkening at your words, his hold on your leg tightening. His gaze flickers to your eyes and you want to devour him, you want him to take you here and there to prove you that this is all it’s about: sex.

Clearing his throat he mumbles a lame excuse as he pulls you from your chair, tugging you towards the restrooms, you try to keep up with his pace in your heels, but you also can’t wait for him to slam you against the door and fuck you quick and hard.

As soon as you’re locked away from the party in one of the bathrooms, your lips collide with his as he pushes you up against the door, a leg coming between your thighs and you can’t stop yourself from grinding on him.

“Fuck,” he rasps out, hands cupping your jaw as he angles your head just right while your hands are already traveling down his body to reach his pants, eager to get them undone as fast as possible.

However the sudden rush and desperation catches Harry’s eyes and he grabs your hands, stopping you mid-action.

“Hey, everything alright?” he asks, out of breath, concern filling his eyes.

“I just need you to fuck me,” you bluntly reply, but he doesn’t move.

“Okay, but why do you look so shaken up? Did something happen?”

“Harry, stop babying me! I said I’m fine, I just want you to fuck me!” you snap, losing your patience. Not sure if it’s with him or with yourself though.

“You’re obviously not fine! You are snapping at me for being decent and making sure you’re okay!” Harry steps away from you, the moment completely ruined as all physical contact ends with him, his eyes staring back at you in disbelief and you feel like a ticking bomb that’s about to explode.

“It’s not your concern if I’m okay or not. We have a deal, just go with that and leave the rest to me!”

“But above the deal we are friends too. I’m not gonna just… fuck you senseless when you’re obviously upset about something. You’re not in the right mindset.”

“Oh my God, stop being so fucking nice! Stop making these grand gestures and stop pretending like you give a fuck!” You raise your voice and it surely surprises him, but he is still more concerned than angry at your outburst.

“What do you mean pretending? I do care about you! Is that a fucking crime now?!”

“It is because it is for the wrong reasons!” you retort, feeling your throat closing up at the same time. Oh God, you hope you won’t start crying, that will make it even worse. “I think you are taking this pretending a little too far tonight. We are not a couple, this is not real, Harry,” you remind him.

He stares back at you for what feels like eternity and you wish you could read his mind, because you can’t read anything from his eyes, he just stands there like a statue and you feel panic crawling up your spine, slowly digging its claws into your flesh.

And then he finally breaks his silence.

“And would it be so bad if it was real?”

You can’t help a sob that emits from you, feeling like your guts are in a tight grip by his words. This is exactly what you didn’t want to happen.

“No, take that back!” you whine.

“I’m not taking it back! Y/N, what we’ve been doing these past weeks is exactly what a relationship is like and you didn’t seem to have a problem with it until a label was put on it. It doesn’t have to change anything!”

“But it is! And you know I don’t do this!”

“Don’t do what? Feelings? You don’t get to choose that!” he chuckles bitterly.

“I do! I fucking do! And I chose not to have them so… this is ending here, because you clearly caught feelings,” you pant in desperate need of getting out of the bathroom, but when you are about to open the door Harry’s hand snaps against it, keeping it closed. You rest your forehead against the cool surface of it, feeling Harry stand so close to you behind, his chest is touching your back.

“Don’t just walk away, we are in the middle of a conversation,” he growls, his voice filled with anger and warning.

“I don’t have anything to say to you,” you whisper, shaking your head as you turn around and face him, your back pressing against the door.

“But I do,” he simply replies. “Why do you think you can just run away from feeling anything for the rest of your life? Why would it be so bad if you fell for someone, huh? I know you do have feelings, I know you well, Y/N. You’re not some cold hearted jerk, you are a caring and loving person, so why won’t you let yourself be happy?”

“I am happy the way I am, have you thought about that?”

“No, you’re not. I’ve known you half my life, I know that you want to be cared for, you want to be loved and cherished, yet you push away everyone who wants to give you that.”

“Because it’s not that easy, Harry!” you snap at him. “It’s never just the lovey-dovey shit! Feelings come with hurt and pain and heartbreaks and I don’t need that! I can’t handle that!”

“It’s not always the case! But if you never put yourself out there, you’ll never find the happiness you’re seeking!”

“Well, for me, it doesn’t worth it! I don’t want to fall for someone, plan my future with them and open up to them completely only for them to fall out of love with me one day and decide they don’t want anything to do with me! I don’t want to give anyone the chance to hurt me like that, because I’ve seen what it does to a person! I witnessed it all, Harry! I will not be a victim to that!”

You’re full on shouting, tears rolling down your cheeks at this point. You are letting everything out that’s been bottled up deep inside of you all this time. Nothing can make you believe in the fairytale that will never become your reality and you rather save the time and pain than experiment with it.

What really hurts is that now you are losing your friend. Your best friend. Because the way Harry is looking at you makes it obvious that you’ll never be like before the deal. The hurt, the shock, the panic and the anger, it all mixes in his wide-eyed gaze and it’s like a knife into your chest.

“You promised me, Harry,” you sob, voice now barely more than just a whisper. “You swore you wouldn’t catch feelings but you lied!”

“I didn’t lie,” he simply answers clenching his jaw. “I said I wouldn’t catch feelings for you, but truth is… I already had them. I was already in love with you, have been for a while. And you know what? I think you love me too, but you’re just too afraid to admit it. I know it because I can feel it. The way you touch me, look at me, the way you talk to me, it’s written all over you, but you choose to ignore it.”

“You don’t know shit,” you shake your head vigorously. “You think you know it, but you don’t.”

“Stop denying it, Y/N! You can’t just switch it off! Loving is not as horrendous as you think it is! Yes, it comes with pain too, but the good is always there to make you forget about it. You have to give it… you have to give yourself a chance!”

“I don’t have to do anything, Harry,” you sass back, pushing him away so you have the chance to sneak out of the room before he could stop you. But he doesn’t let it end that easily. Running after you he catches your wrist before you could get out of the hallway, pulling you back.

“Don’t just fucking walk away, Y/N! We need to talk about this!”

“No, we don’t. And I’m done with this. Done with… you.”

It hurts. The words rolling off of your tongue hurt, but you choose to ignore it once again as you shake his hand off of yourself, marching back to your table to grab your bag and leave.

“What do you mean you’re done with me? Don’t do this, Y/N! Let’s just fucking talk!”

Harry keeps trying to stop you, but you’re determined to leave. Your coworkers notice the little scene, but you don’t pay it any attention as you head out of the room, knowing well they’ll talk shit about you behind your back as soon as you’re out of the building.

“Y/N for fuck’s sake just stop already!” Harry snaps, grabbing your arm once again when you’re outside, pulling you back, but you’ve had enough.

“No! I’m not stopping, you need to stop! Stop trying to make yourself believe this is anything more than just the deal we made! It’s not and it will never be, because you don’t get to have the privilege of hurting me, nobody gets to do that!”

“Who said I want to hurt you?! That’s the last thing I would want to do! It’s not as cruel as you imagine it, Y/N. I know that your mum had a terrible love life when you were younger, but that’s not the only side to love! There are so much good about it, so much to fight for and endure with the bad sides, you can’t just throw all of it out the window because you decided love is just not for you!”

“I can and I will. Watch me!” you bite back, tearing your arm out of his hold as you step to the side of the pavement and wave a taxi down.

“Please don’t get into that car, Y/N, let’s talk!”

“We talked enough,” you huff as the car stops in front of you and you hop inside, but just as you are about to close the door Harry once again stops you.

“Y/N, I love you. Please don’t do this!” he begs, so much sorrow and pain radiating from his face and for a moment you fall weak. You almost reach out to him, because part of you hates seeing him like this, especially knowing that it’s because of you. You just want him to be happy, but you know it’s not gonna be with you. You can never give him what he wants and needs. He’ll be better off without you.

“I’m sorry,” you choke out before pulling the door closed and the car drives away. Turning around you see him stand on the pavement, completely broken and shaken, his hands tangling into his hair as he angrily kicks at the dirt before the car melts into the traffic and he falls out of your sight.

You did it for your and Harry’s sake. It had to be done and you are both better off this way. At least that’s what you’ve been trying to convince you to believe.

But why does it hurt so badly then?

Harry tried you calling a million times after you left him at the party, he even came after you and banged on your door for thirty minutes straight, begging you to let him in and just talk, but you didn’t even answer him. Just waited until he left before you curled up in the shower and cried for about an hour.

The calls and texts kept coming in the next few days, but after a while he gave up. He got nothing but silence from your side and one last, long ass text that you didn’t even read because you knew you’d just start crying again, he finally gave up.

You were left alone with all the pain and emptiness and you realized how big part of your life Harry played before. Somehow, everything reminded you of him and you couldn’t do anything without wishing he was with you.

You truly believed that time will heal you, that soon you’ll realize that you made the right decision, but days turned into weeks and nothing changed, you just learned to live with the pain. You stopped going out with your friends and not just because you were afraid of seeing Harry, but because you genuinely couldn’t get yourself to leave the house. Your evenings consisted of binge eating all the ice-cream you could find in your freezer and watching reruns of your favorite shows, but nothing could really take your mind off of Harry.

Day after day you cancelled on Leticia as well until she had enough of your hermit life. She got fed up watching you sink into your pit of sorrow and decided to take things into her own hands and not let you run away from her.

A Friday evening you’re doing what you’ve been doing for weeks now, lying on your couch in sweatpants, scrolling through Netflix when there’s a knock on your door. You wait, hoping whoever it is will think you’re not home and go away, but another obnoxious knock rips through the apartment and you growl.

“I know you’re in there bitch, open the fucking door!” Leticia shouts from outside and you curse the day you became friends with her. Maybe you would have been better off as enemies.

“I’m busy!” you call out, but make your way to the front door anyway, opening it to reveal her.

“Yeah, I can see that. Busy with being a bag of trash,” she comments on your appearance, walking inside without an invitation.

“Jeez, you really did wake up today and chose violence,” you mutter under your breath as you shut the door closed.

Leticia is quick to turn the TV off and open up the windows as you just stand there, not sure what she is doing here.

“When did you clean this place? And when was the last time you took a shower?” she asks, her nose scrunching when she takes a better look at you.

“Okay, did you come here to offend me? Because I don’t need that so please leave.”

“No, I’m here to beat some sense into you.”

“Good luck with that,” you scoff, taking your spot on the couch once again. You reach for the remote with the intention of turning the TV back on, but Leticia stands in front of the screen, blocking the device completely as she stares down at you with a disapproving look, arms folded on her chest.

“You’re acting like a child, Y/N. Avoiding everyone and being mad at the whole world, are you an emo teenager now or what?”

“I’m not mad at the whole world!”

“Okay, then you’re mad at just Harry, still, it’s a mistake.”

“I’m not mad at only Harry either,” you admit truthfully.

“Who else then?”

“Myself?” you mumble, eyes falling closed as you slide lower down on the couch.

“That makes the two of us, but why are you mad at yourself?” she asks, finally moving from her spot in front of the TV as she sits next to you on the couch, crossing her legs as she waits for your answer.

“Because…” you start with a sigh, opening your eyes, but you avoid looking at her, instead, you stare at the wall across you. “Because I can’t fucking stop thinking about him,” you admit and your lips start trembling instantly, just like every time you think about him. “I miss him so fucking badly, Tish! I miss our conversations, I miss his stupid jokes, I miss him raiding my fucking fridge and I miss…”

You bite your tongue, not wanting to admit the next thoughts loudly. Because you miss kissing him, you miss holding him and be held by him. You miss sex too, but you miss the tiny things even more, the way his lips feel against yours, how he smiles against them when you whimper his name and you miss the awkward little things the most. When he accidentally bumps his head against yours or when say random shit right before he pushes into you just to make you laugh, or when he leans in for a kiss but misses it and ends up kissing your nose or just the corner of your mouth. You miss everything about him and you hate him for that, but you hate yourself even more. It feels like your own conscious has betrayed you.

Shutting your eyes closed you let the tears roll down your cheeks as Leticia scoots closer and wraps her arms around you, cooing soothingly at you.

“It’s alright. It’s totally normal, Y/N.”

“It is not! Not for me at least!” you protest pulling back, wiping your cheeks with the back of your hands.

“Stop with the bullshit already!” she growls in annoyance. “You are not some kind of ice queen who is incapable of loving! You love me, right?”

“Yeah, but that’s different,” you roll your eyes.

“Not really. You love your other friends as well, right?” You nod. “And you love your mom,” she adds and you nod again. “Would you do anything for these people?”

“Of course.”

“Do you like spending time with them? Do you care about them in all kinds of ways?”

“Yes,” you sigh, fumbling with the hem of your shirt.

“Do you feel the same way about Harry? Do you care about him, would you do anything for him to make him happy?”

“Yes,” you whisper truthfully.

“Then don’t complicate it. You love him, no big deal! And he surely loves you back, because he told you, right?” You nod. “Then pull your head out of your ass and just let yourself be happy for once.”

“Why are you coming with this too? I was happy on my own too!”

“No, you were getting by,” she points it out. “You were doing good, but you weren’t… a whole. Harry gave you everything you missed, but for some fucked up reason you think it’s the end of the world to depend on someone else partially when it comes to your happiness. Which can be a smart thing, it’s important to be your own person and be independent, but sometimes we need some help from others. From people that love us and we love them back. It’s not a crime, Y/N.”

“No, but it’s gonna end up with me being heartbroken.”

“You already are,” she ruthlessly replies, bringing your attention to what you’ve been trying to ignore all this time. “Hate to break it to you, but this is what that feels like. So why not just go with it, you already felt the pain, now you could go for the good parts as well.”

“I don’t know if I can do it, Tish,” you breathe out, resting your head against the back of the couch. “Even if I did it, I know I would mess it up and hurt him or maybe he’ll do something stupid and hurt me and I don’t think I can handle that.”

“So what? It’s part of the deal. And besides, you’re already hurting each other, so you better get your shit together,” she scoffs, poking your side playfully.

It’s part of the deal. Are you ready to make a new deal? One that you’ve been avoiding your whole life? Are you ready to cut yourself open for someone else and just hope for the best?

Probably not. And probably you’ll never be. But your tactics didn’t succeed so far, you still ended up in pain so why not give it a chance? Even if it’s gonna be the hardest thing you’ve ever done?

“Do you think he hates me now?” you ask quietly, peeking at her scared of her answer.

“He is a bit mad at you for shutting him out, but he could never hate you. That man loves you so much, it’s almost disgusting,” she admits, making you chuckle. “Just… be honest with him and talk to him. You need it. You both need it.”

Harry’s fingers strum against the chords again, trying to get the tune right, but he fails again, a frustrated growl leaving his lips as he lets his head fall forwards. He’s been trying to finish the song for hours, but it still hasn’t come together the way he imagined and his patience is running short.

It’s been hard for him to focus on writing, with you on his mind all the time, everything seems like a hard task. He has written plenty of songs since the night at the party, but he could never use them for his job. One, because they are so fucking sad and depressive and they asked for upbeat hits from him, and two, because they are all so personal, he could never give them to someone else. He can’t let anyone else sing the lines he wrote to you, but you’ll probably never hear them.

Giving up on finishing the song today, he puts the guitar aside and calls it a day. Walking into the kitchen he opens the fridge and realizes that it’s completely empty aside from a bottle of ketchup and a single banana. He’s been such a mess lately, he forgot to go grocery shopping yesterday. Huffing to himself he grabs the banana and reaches for his phone to order something right when his doorbell rings. He is not expecting anyone, but Mitch has been popping in every few days to check in on him since everything that went down with you, so Harry is convinced it’s him again.

“Great timing, do you want Italian or Chinese?” he asks, walking up to the door, but as he swings it open he freezes when he sees you standing on the doormat. “Y/N…” he breathes out as if he was seeing a ghost.

“Hi! I-I hope I’m not bothering you o-or anything…” you ramble nervously.

“No! No, come on in!” He snaps out of his trance and steps aside, letting you walk inside. A feeling of nostalgia hits you right away as you think back at the last time you were here. Just a few days before the party, when everything was different.

“I’m sorry I came without asking, I just… I would say I was nearby, but that’s not true,” you chuckle anxiously as the two of you walk into the living room. You notice that his place is a little messier than usually, but it’s not nearly as bad as yours was before you did a deep cleaning yesterday after Leticia’s comments on it.

“It’s fine, don’t worry about it. What… What brought you here?”

“I, uhh… I’ve been thinking. A lot. And I have a few things I need to tell you.”

For a moment Harry’s stomach drops, because he thinks you came here to tell him off one more time for breaking your deal, for everything that happened at the party. He is already bracing himself to just let you lash out on him, but it never comes. And when you speak up again, he nearly faints.

“I love you.”

It’s a strong start, definitely a surprising one. Harry’s lips part and his eyes widen, his look almost comical, but you’re not laughing, not now. You have a lot to tell him and you can only hope he won’t throw you out after everything is said.

“I love you and I’m sorry it took me so long to stop ignoring it, but I promise you I’m done with that. And I’m sorry for everything I said to you that night, I was… mad and confused and I didn’t know how to deal with everything at once. I was delusional and ignorant and… a fool for thinking that I could just choose to never have feelings, especially for you,” you add with a tiny, nervous chuckle. “You were right. About everything. That I can’t live without ever putting myself out there and risking it. And I think deep down I knew that, but I was so afraid of getting hurt that I made myself believe I’m good on my own, but I’m not. Not entirely, to be precise. Because sometimes it is worth risking it and… and I realized that you are the person for me who is worth this risk.”

The tears are already blurring your vision, for the millionth time these past weeks, but it feels right now. Opening up to Harry and telling him all of this is hard, but with every spoken word you feel lighter and more relieved.

“I’m sorry if I made you think that I don’t love you, because I do. I really do. You are my best friend and these past weeks have been hell for me without you. I was so keen on avoiding a heart break that I ended up breaking my own heart,” you chuckle bitterly, the first tear running down your cheek.

Harry reaches out and wipes it away with his thumb and you involuntarily melt into his touch. You’ve been starved for it and now it feels like home. When you look up and your eyes meet his, you see that they are red too and it just makes you want to cry even more.

“I didn’t mean to hurt you, I just thought that I was doing the right thing, but I was so far from that. So I’m really sorry and I understand if you don’t want to see me again for the way I acted. I was… a horrible friend and… an even worse girlfriend.”

“Girlfriend?” he asks quietly.

“Yeah. Because you were right, we were more than just the deal and… if you choose not to throw me out after this, I would… I would love to give it a try with you. I want to be the girlfriend you deserve and though I’m sure I’ll mess it up a lot of times, I promise I’ll try my best, becau—“

He makes your rambling stop in the best way possible, lips smashing against yours as he cups your tear-soaked cheeks in his warm palms, pulling you close to him, your arms curling around his waist immediately.

Harry has kissed you several times before, but none of them compares to this. It’s messy and salty from both your tears, but you wouldn’t change a thing about it, the way his lips move against yours, tongues meeting, devouring each other, making up for the lost time and full of promises for the future. You hold onto his shirt at his back for dear life as he just keeps kissing you over and over again until you both run out of breath.

“So, does this mean you’re not throwing me out?” you joke, breaking the silence once you’ve pulled back.

“Fuck no,” he laughs, pecking your lips a few more times before his lips meet your forehead. “You are not leaving this place, ever. You’re trapped,” he adds to the joke and you break out in a relieved laughter.

“Wait, so I’m stuck with you now?” you whine playfully, but all you get is another kiss on the lips, hard and demanding.

“Yeah, forever, baby. You won’t get rid of me now, not after the speech you just gave me,” he smirks down at you, his arms coming to curl around your shoulders as he keeps you pressed against him tightly. “I love you.”

“I love you too,” you reply, your heart soaring as you hear those words again from him, this time, not even trying to dodge them in any way. In fact, you just want to hear him say it every minute over and over again for the rest of your life. “And I’m happy to be stuck with you,” you add with a shy smile as his grin widens at your words.

“Yeah? So we have a new deal then?” he teases, kissing the corner of your mouth.

“Absolutely.”

Thank you for reading, please like and reblog if you enjoyed it!

#harry #styles #harry styles #harry styles smut #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles fanfic #harry styles oneshot #harry styles one shot #harry styles fluff #harry styles angst #harry styles x you #harry styles x reader #harry styles x y/n #harry styles au #harry styles imagine

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mrsalwayswrite · 3 years

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Sinners and Saints (Sihtric x reader)

Summary: One day you stumble upon your childhood friend, Osferth, whom you have not seen in years. Yet the more time you spend with him, the more you find yourself drawn to his companion, Sihtric….and the butterflies his dark eyes give you.

This is my contribution to @emilyhufflepufftlk 100 followers challenge! Congratulations again! I’m so happy for you!

My prompt was - "Love doesn't discriminate, between the sinners and the saints." - Lin-Manuel Miranda, Hamilton (in bold within the story)

Words: 5500

Warnings: A couple of swear words, fluff, my poor attempts at humor, Osferth being a good bro.

Tag List: @deans-ch-ch-cherrypie @flowers-in-your-hayr

This gorgeous moodboard was made by @flowers-in-your-hayr. All credit goes to her!

"...so there she was, aye, and next thing I know, she flips 'er dress up and I see the most perfect set of…."

"I'm going to be sick." Osferth mumbled to himself, trying to block out Finan's retelling of his prior night. To the laughter of his companions, he started to push away from the outdoor table at the alehouse. He was no virgin anymore, Finan and Uhtred had seen to that, but he still felt squeamish when listening to their stories of recent conquests. His mother's voice whispered in the back of his mind, things she had told him before her passing, about respect and love. Plus, he could not help but think that this idea of conquests, of women's worth derived from what pleasure a man could take from their bodies, was what brought bastards into this world….like him.

"Alright, Finan, we get it. You saw the arse of a goat and couldn't help yourself." Uhtred teased, slinging an arm around Osferth so he could not escape them- most likely to find a church and pray for their souls.

"Oi, lord! Ya know that was one time!" Finan feigned mock-outrage, making Uhtred and Sihtric laugh.

Osferth put a hand over his eyes as if that would somehow block the image from his mind. Something he desperately did not want there.

"How much longer are we here, lord?" Sihtric asked, changing the subject, while twirling a dagger between his hands fluidly.

Although Osferth would never admit it aloud, and God forgive him, it was hard not to be jealous of how easily his companions handled their weapons like they had been born with weapons in hand. They continued to tell him it was practice. Recently though, he decided it was a gift that he clearly did not have.

"Until I feel satisfied with the training of Lord Godwin's fyrd and his defenses." Uhtred stated indifferently, as if it was something he had to repeat to himself often.

"Ya think King Alfred knew how much of a horse's arse Lord Godwin is?"

Uhtred glanced up, a tiny smirk on his lips. "Probably."

"But he knew you were the man for the job." Osferth commented. Not necessarily to defend his father but to hopefully bolster Uhtred's confidence. "The men respect you, even if their lord fails to acknowledge his own respect."

"The baby monk is right." Finan said. "What else needs to be done for the town?"

Uhtred and Finan began discussing ideas and strategies, Sihtric adding an occasional comment but mostly just listening.

Osferth found his attention wandering, since this was an area outside of his expertise. His gaze drifted to the town and its residents who moved about to complete their duties under the midday sun. Their group had only been in this large town for two days and already Osferth was keen to return to Coccham.

From amidst the crowd, a familiar face caught his attention. The world tilted off its axis as his entire body went rigid, all his focus zeroed in on her. His heart hammered in his chest and the air whooshed from his lungs painfully.

"Y/n?" He muttered to himself, disbelief and shock clearly painted in his tone and on his face.

"Baby monk, ya alright?"

Finan's words did even register, so consumed by the ghost before him. Rapidly, he slid off the bench, almost losing his footing when he went to stand, but pressed on, hurrying towards her.

"Y/n!" He called, an almost desperate tone in his yell.

When she did not turn around, he shouted louder. "Y/N!"

That time she paused, then slowly turned to find him standing still amongst those walking around him, a solid rock in a stream of people. He held his breath as he intently watched her expression, suddenly worried seeing him would not be as meaningful as he hoped. He could see her utter his name silently, eyes wide. Then in the next moment, she dropped the basket on her hip and ran towards him. He opened his arms just in time for her to collide with him, and with her embrace, a painful wave of nostalgia and guilt crashed over him with the strength of a tempest.

"It's really you." She finally whispered, peering at him in awe.

"Hi." He smiled, his own shock clouding his mind from forming coherent sentences.

Then to his surprise, she reared back and punched him in the arm.

"Ouch! What was that for?" He whined, rubbing the offended limb.

Throwing her hands in the air, they landed on her hips as her voice rose in anger. "For disappearing in the middle of the night without telling me!"

"I did tell you."

"That you were THINKING about leaving, not that you WERE leaving!" She reared back and punched him in the arm again, ignoring his pained cry as she continued to berate him. "I spent an entire day running around the monastery trying to find you only for Father Harold to finally pull me aside and tell me you left for Wincheaster."

And there was the heaping of guilt he knew he deserved. "I'm sorry….I just….I just knew if I didn't leave that night, then I never would."

Her face softened at his quiet admission, understanding passing in her eyes. "I know. I wasn't truly surprised…. Just wish you'd have told me before."

"I'm sorry."

She sighed, all anger and frustration disappearing, much to his relief. She was a force to be reckoned with when truly in her fury. "So, what are you doing here?"

"Ah, traveled here with the Lord Uhtred to assist Lord Godwin in his defenses….or something."

"Uhtred? That Uhtred?"

He smiled at her, catching the reverence in her tone. "That very one."

"How did you find him? How did you join him? Wait! Are you a warrior now? We have a lot to talk about and you better get started." There went the hands on her hips again, making his smile widen at the image. Even as a young girl, when her hands were on her hips, you knew she meant business.

"Would you like to meet him first?"

A shy look passed over her face that he was unused to seeing. "I'm…. I'm not presentable to meet a lord."

He scanned her, noting the dried mud on the hem of her dress and shoes, the small smear of what looked like flour on her left temple. What he noticed most was how the years had made her even more beautiful. She had always been a pretty girl but now, she truly looked like a beautiful woman. A fact he was unsure of how to feel about.

He chuckled lightly after a moment. "Well, you certainly smell better than Lord Uhtred so I think it's fine."

That caused her to tip her head back and laugh loudly, the desired effect of his comment. She gathered up her basket and walked next to Osferth, back to the table where his companions were. It was impossible to ignore their curious stares as they approached.

"Lord Uhtred, may I introduce y/n. Y/n, this is Lord Uhtred of Bebbanburg." Osferth said, standing next to her at the end of the table.

Uhtred nodded graciously, clearly wondering why this woman mattered and why Osferth was introducing her.

"Oh, it's an honor to meet you!" Y/n gushed, a bright smile on her face. "Uncle Leofric told us so much about you, but I never thought I'd ever meet you in person."

"Leofric?" That caught his lord's attention, his gaze narrowing and eyeing her with renewed interest. "How did you know that turd?"

"When he came to visit Osferth, he'd tell us stories."

"Ah….all exaggerated, of course." Uhtred said with a cocky smirk.

"Wait. I think we're missin' the most important thing here." Finan leaned forward, dark eyes bouncing between Osferth and her, as he pointed a finger at them, hand still wrapped around his cup. "Ya said 'Uncle Leofric'....are ya related to Osferth?"

Osferth answered quickly. "No, her family owned the farm next to the monastery, so we grew up together." Then he furrowed his brows as a thought hit him. He had been so amazed to see his childhood best friend (only friend really) that he had not realized that she should be back at the farm and not in this town. "Wait, y/n, why are you here and not at the farm?"

Her face crumpled for a brief second before she was able to mask it into a neutral expression. She shrugged casually, but he could read the subtle tension in the action. "We lost the farm, so mother and I came here to look for work."

"Ah." There were so many things he wanted to ask but could tell now was not the right time. If she lived here, he would have plenty of time to hear the full story later. Instead he decided to change the subject. "So, you know Lord Uhtred, the others are Finan and Sihtric…. And Sihtric is also a bastard." He added as an afterthought.

That made her face light up as she turned to look at the Dane. "Hey, another bastard! We really need to start a club. We can all rant about how awful our fathers are."

"You're a bastard?" Uhtred asked, shock evident in his voice.

"Yes, my lord. My mother was a servant for a lord. Got pregnant. The lord's wife did not like that so sent my pregnant mother back to her family. Certainly, it was our Lord's Will because how else would I have been able to grow up with Osferth?" She asked, patting him on the cheek affectionately. He blushed and swatted her hand away, much to the other's amusement.

"I reckon you have quite a few amusin' stories of growin' up with Osferth, eh?" Finan smirked.

"I might….but I don't share secrets for free." She matched his smirk with her own crooked smile.

He slapped his hand on the table. "I'll owe ya a drink! I need to 'ear this."

"No….oh no, no, no." Osferth said but knew it was a lost cause before he even tried to deter them. The rest were already deciding when and where to meet that night. "Lord help me."

"It's not that bad." She teased, bumping his arm with hers. "The worst one is when we went streaking naked through the monastery."

Osferth felt his face heat up like the flames of hell itself as everyone laughed. "It was your idea."

"Yeah, yeah, so you like to remind me." She smiled fondly. "Now, if I don't get back home, my mother is going to think I've run off with some man or I've been kidnapped. Either way, she will raise the fyrd herself to find me. I will see you all tonight."

The others said their goodbyes but before she could step too far away, Osferth gently touched her arm, halting her movement.

"Y/n….I'm….I'm glad our paths have crossed once again."

She pulled him into a tight embrace. "I am too, Osferth. I've missed you." With that, she turned and walked away with her basket still on her hip; but not without glancing over her shoulder at the group before disappearing around some buildings.

Once out of sight, Osferth sighed and turned back to his companions, only to see them all still staring intently in the direction she disappeared.

"No….y/n is off-limits to you fornicators." He stated firmly, well as firmly as he could be.

"She's very pretty…." Uhtred declared, a playful grin on his face.

"Lord, no. All of you, keep your hands off of her."

"Or what?" Finan chuckled, eyes alight with mischief. "You'll fight us, baby monk?"

"I will if I must."

"Alright. Her dignity won't be tarnished." Uhtred lifted his cup in Osferth's direction. "Your reputation might be tonight depending on what stories she shares."

Osferth groaned, sitting back down next to his lord. "I'm going to need a lot of ale."

"That can certainly be arranged!" Finan laughed, jovial once more.

As discussion started back up again, they all missed the silent, longing glance Sihtric snuck one last time in the direction she walked away….

*****

Over the next several weeks Lord Uhtred helped increase the defenses of the town and instructed the guards and fyrd how to better defend against the Danes.

During those weeks, you found yourself frequently spending time with Osferth and his companions. First it started off with meeting them in the evenings for ale, laughter and good company. Within days, it became almost expected for one of them to purposefully seek you out. Most of the time it was Osferth and Sihtric coming to join you in whatever your tasks for the day because they were bored or unwanted in meetings. It was not difficult to tell that although they were certainly welcomed members of Uhtred's group, not everyone else saw them in such a positive light.

So the three of you often passed the hours away together, waiting until evening to rejoin Uhtred and Finan at the alehouse. Their presence became such a regular occurrence that your mother practically adopted them, they even had their assigned seats at your small kitchen table for meals. Somehow, they seamlessly slipped into your daily life in a way that seemed like they were meant to be there this whole time.

Even at the alehouse in the evenings, you usually found yourself nestled between Osferth and Sihtric on the bench. A place you certainly found yourself enjoying more and more….especially next to the Dane.

Over the weeks, there was something growing between you and the Dane. It gradually revealed itself with each passing day, growing like the roots of an oak tree. It was through the borderline flirtatious comments that you teased each other with. It was in the subtle touches that caused butterflies in your stomach to dance, from your fingers barely gracing each other when passing something, to the way you leaned your head on his shoulder when your eyelids threatened to close, to the way your thighs would touch under the table and away from view of the others. It was in the lingering looks when your gazes locked and you swore you never wanted to look away. It was in the consistency of being next to one another whenever you could, either sitting at a table or just walking down the street, almost like your bodies were magnetized to one another's.

Plus the more you talked to Sihtric, the more you desired to know about him. For he was like no other man you had ever met.

Almost a fortnight after you reunited with Osferth, there was one particular evening after staying out far too late with the four men and drinking a bit too much, Sihtric graciously offered to walk you back home. You knew propriety demanded Osferth should be the one to escort you but he was already passed out, head on the table and snores emitting from his mouth. Giggling at your childhood friend, you accepted Sihtric's offer and the two of you easily fell into step.

On the walk you learned more about his past, about going up in Dunholm and his cruel father. You had heard bits and pieces while with Osferth and the others. Maybe it was under the cover of darkness, maybe it was the extra ale flowing through both of your blood, but he confessed secrets to you he had never told another besides his mother. When you reached your home, before he could slip away, you clutched his arm and pressed a quick kiss to his cheek. After, you bid him goodnight and slipped inside your humble home.

After that night, he always walked you home, sometimes alone and sometimes one of the others would join. But when it was just you two, when you were alone, you would bid him a goodnight with a kiss on the cheek or he would kiss your hand, locking eyes with you in a way that made a fire stir in your belly and your core clench.

There was definitely something between the two of you, but neither seemed able to verbalize it or take the next step.

*****

"So, what is going on between you and Cedric?"

You turned your head to look at Osferth, who laid on the grass next to you, soaking in the heat of the early afternoon sun. "What?"

"You know….that blacksmith. The one you were talking to the other day."

"Oh." The memory hit you. You had stopped by to drop off your mother's damaged cooking pot for Cedric to attempt in fixing, although you personally thought it was a helpless cause. The dent in it was significant, but he offered to see what he could do. As you dropped it off at his workshop, the two of you began discussing an approaching saint's day and the celebration that would occur with it.

Several minutes later, you heard your name called and looked over to see Osferth and Sihtric walking towards you. You bid Cedric a farewell, promising to stop by the next day to come pick up the pot. After receiving his promise to try his best at fixing it, you headed off towards the stables with your fellow bastards. At the time, you had not thought the encounter significant but with it happening two days ago and Osferth now bringing it up, you wondered how long he had been ruminating on it.

Finally, you simply said, "he's a good man, and has been kind to my mother and I since we arrived here."

"Is he….pursuing you?" Osferth turned his head to scrutinize you, his lips pursed slightly as if concerned about your answer.

You openly laughed at the notion. "No, that's silly. He is just a kind man."

If anything, you had to fend off flirtatious advancements from some of the young men that worked under Cedric. Those same young men quickly learned to keep their eyes on their work and mouths shut. When one openly called out to you, and before you could offer a sharp retort, Cedric threw a hammer at him from across the shop. He bellowed that he did not allow heathens to work for him and if they chose to act godless then they needed to find a new place of work. Their blatant interest diminished after that and Cedric made a point to be the only one that conversed with you if you came to the shop. Although he was easily ten years your senior, you found him a likeable man with a quick wit and sarcastic comments that occasionally left you in stitches.

The idea of him pursuing you was an amusing idea. He was still a bachelor, never having married, claiming that his work and apprentices kept him far too busy for much else.

Your answer appeared to satisfy Osferth. A thoughtful look crossed his face and he opened his mouth as if to speak, but immediately slowly closed it and turned his head back to stare at the blue sky.

A stillness settled after your answer, only interrupted by the frequent bird song and the wind through the tall grass. You closed your eyes, enjoying the sun's warmth and just lying around relaxing on the hill outside of the town, away from the hustle and bustle and chores that demanded your attention.

"He was watching you like a man who wants a woman." Sihtric stated after a couple minutes of peaceful silence.

Startled by his sour tone, you shifted up to look over at the Dane. He sat on the other side of Osferth, one leg propped up and an arm casually slung over it, but his gaze was focused straight ahead, staring off into the distance. Now that you thought about it, over the past two days Sihtric had become more reserved and sullen than you had ever seen. Even his companions commented on it a few times to which he would shrug his shoulders or make an excuse and walk away. You had thought he just missed Coccham, the group having been away for so long, or something happened that made him introspective. It had also not escaped your notice how the prior closeness between you two had halted. Now you wondered if there was something more to his demeanor.

"Well, that is most unfortunate for him since I am not interested in him."

"Does your mother not want you to marry?" Osferth asked, his voice deceptively neutral.

Sighing, you leaned back on your hands. Eventually you knew Osferth would bring up the topic, he was your friend after all and you were certainly of marriageable age. Actually far too old to not be married by some people's standards, but you ignored them. "She does but she has told me that she will not force it upon me. She said I should make my own choice….that if I am able, I should choose love."

You knew your mother offered you that choice in hopes your life would turn out differently than her own.

"But if Cedric is a good, kind man….could you not love him….or someone like him?" Osferth pressed.

"Perhaps. There are plenty of men I have seen who the church would call a 'good' man but are cruel in their own home, and there are many men who are calloused but it's obvious they love their wife and children. My love doesn't discriminate, between the sinners and the saints. I would rather choose a man whom I know loves and cares for me than a man I know is 'good' but carries no love in his heart." You paused, the candid confession rolling off your tongue before you realized it. Sighing, you ran a hand over your hair before quietly saying. "I just….I just want someone that loves me….sinner or saint."

Not a word was spoken as all three contemplated your statement, the silence hanging heavy like a brewing storm. Tilting your face to the sky, unable to meet the gazes of your companions, you chastised yourself for the candor with which you spoke. Osferth had asked a simple question initially and you chose to make it complicated. They did not need to know how you longed for love, how the hope for it in your potential future was what kept you going. It was foolish and you supposed after this, they would only see you as a silly girl with outlandish dreams of a storybook romance.

Finally, Osferth broke the silence. "Well, I shall be praying fervently for this man….hopefully he knows what he is getting into before he marries you."

You laughed, appreciating his lighthearted comment. Reaching a hand out to smack Osferth's arm, you teased. "Keep that up and you won't be invited to my wedding."

"Your mother will let me in."

"Yeah, you're probably right." You glanced over in the direction of the town, regretting that your time away had to end. "I need to head back, those chores won't finish themselves."

The three of you headed back to the town, quiet contemplation cloaking your group. Yet you feared that whatever spark lay between you and the Dane had been extinguished forever by your unexpected honesty. For still he refused to look your way, keeping his gaze focused forward. If your heart fissured within your chest, you swallowed down the pain. It was better for the spark to die out now then burn brightly only to be smothered later.

Or at least that was what you told yourself.

*****

"What you said….about the sinners and the saints…."

You whirled around, heart leaping into your throat with a silent scream on your tongue. In the small herb garden behind your house, you had thought you were alone. After the awkward conversation on the hill earlier that day, you sought solace in your chores. Thankfully Osferth and Sihtric headed back to meet with their companions on their own accord, leaving you to trudge through your muddled thoughts with all the grace of a newborn foal.

Now you found the very person who your thoughts centered on, standing just a few paces from you….and your heart began to race for a very different reason.

When his voice trailed off, those dark eyes that set fire licking through your veins dropped to the ground, you quietly stood up from where you had knelt, wiping the dirt from your hands, although you moved no closer.

"Sihtric?" You tried to prompt him.

"Is it true?" His piercing gaze lifted to meet yours, stealing the very breath from your lungs. "Your love doesn't discriminate?"

"Yes." You breathed out.

He nodded silently before taking a step closer to you. "And what about….what about Danes?"

Your chest pulled tight at his words, yet a coy smile grew on your lips. The flutter in your belly made your gaze drop for a moment as you tried to stifle the excitement making butterflies dance. Although this was no declaration, it was the closest the two of you had talked about what lay between you. Taking a steadying breath, you prayed this moment would not pass by without confessing the truth that you had harbored in your heart for weeks now.

"Not even towards Danes." You shook your head, the smile still on your lips. "And…. There is one I'm becoming quite fond of lately."

"Yeah?" He took two steps closer, somehow moving cautiously but eating the ground with each determined step.

"But….do you think this Dane could be….fond of me?" You softly murmured, feeling as if your heart lay in the palms of your hands for all to see.

That last step separating you two disappeared almost before you finished asking your question. His hands ever so gently reached over to take yours, entwining your fingers together. The two of you stood so close, your chests almost touched with each breath you took. Your breathing seemed to cease under the intensity of his gaze and a shiver raced up your spine. Yet you had no desire to withdraw from him.

"He would be a fool not to." He whispered, the barest hint of a tremble in his voice. "I'd bet you are constantly on this Dane's mind. That he cannot go a day without seeing your face and hearing your laugh. You are the first thought that he wakes to and the reason he falls asleep with a smile. That you have become the north star that it seems the gods have been guiding him towards for his whole life."

As he spoke, everything faded to oblivion around you. The past and future vanished. Dane versus Saxon disappeared. The world narrowed down to this….this moment….this moment that you had dreamt of but never thought would come true.

The two of you continued to stand there, lost in one another's eyes with fingers intertwined. Your heart raced within your chest but a cooling breeze swept away the fears that plagued your mind. For staring at him, you knew he spoke no falsehoods. That he owned your heart just as much as you owned his. That very heart you could feel hammering away in his own chest. His eyes fervently held yours, a silent conversation, a confession, spoken only in looks but you both understood the language. His gaze dipped down to your lips, tracing them before slowly rising once again to your eyes. A curl of pleasure blossomed in your core as you witnessed the fire now in his eyes.

"If this Dane wanted to kiss me…. I wouldn't mind."

A deliciously, sinful smirk teased his mouth. "As my lady commands."

His head tilted, leaning towards yours. Unconsciously your eyelids fluttered closed. Then the briefest of touches made your knees weak and your mouth part open in a sigh. After a moment's hesitation, he continued to shower your jawline with kisses. Needing to touch him, your hands landed on his chest, feeling the tunic that covered his firm chest. Your hands moved upward to grasp the back of his neck, his pulse jumping for a second as your nails scraped his skin. His hands landed on the curve of your waist, bringing you even closer to him, erasing the unwanted space between your bodies.

As his lips began their ascent upward along the otherwise of your jaw, you moved. For the burning sparks in your body screamed if he did not kiss you, you would spontaneously combust. Shifting your face, you stole a kiss on his lips before he could place it on your skin. It was more of a gentle pressing of your mouths, but even then, you heard a sharp inhale from him. Before you could question him, his mouth returned to yours with soft, probing kisses that urged you to respond. Not that you would ever deny him. What started off as a gentle flame quickly became a roaring fire. Breathing became unnecessary, for how could air bring you life when your body craved Sihtric, when your lungs demanded to breathe him in instead. He led you in a drugging kiss that had you melting against him. Your lips drank from one another as if that alone could sustain you forevermore.

"THANK YA, GOD!!"

The passionate kiss abruptly ended as Sihtric and your gazes darted towards the side of your house. Only to be met with the sight of his three companions standing at the entrance in various states of smugness.

"Oh, for the love of Odin…." Sihtric mumbled.

You buried your face in Sihtric's chest, face heated in embarrassment but unable to stop the giggles that poured forth. So caught up in finally confessing your feelings and kissing the man who haunted your dreams, you forgot that anyone could walk by and see you. His arms tightened around you, keeping you within his protective, loving embrace….and you knew there was nowhere else you would rather be.

"Took the two of ya long enough." Finan continued, leaning against the side of your humble home with a shit-eating grin.

"Amen." Osferth had a small, teasing smile on his face. "Thought I would have to lock them in a room together before one of them finally confessed."

Apparently, you and Sihtric were not as subtle as you previously thought. Now it made sense why Osferth was questioning you about Cedric and your thoughts on love and marriage earlier. Your heart flooded with gratitude towards your childhood friend, for without him you doubted neither Sihtric or you would have spoken up. Peering over, you caught Osferth's eye and mouthed a quick 'thank you'. He nodded, a simple joy radiating from his face.

"Lord?" Sihtric called over with a blank expression. "Permission to continue?"

Uhtred chuckled. "I guess you've waited long enough. Go ahead."

Without waiting a moment longer, Sihtric tipped your face back up towards his and claimed your lips once more. You vaguely thought you heard laughter coming from the others but it all blurred away, like a faint sound while underwater. All you could see, all you could feel, all you could hear was Sihtric.

Just how you wanted it.

Suddenly you yanked your head back, your breathing labored and lips swollen. "My mother is helping at a nearby farm today. She won't be back until it's dark."

He hummed against your skin trailing small kisses along your jawline and down your neck as if unable to keep his hands and mouth off you now that the dam had been released.

"I'm not as pure as Osferth thinks me to be."

That statement made his actions stop. Carefully he raised his head to meet your gaze. "After dark?" He confirmed, voice rough in a way that sent a bolt of heat through you.

"Yes, she planned on having supper with them….so my home is currently empty….and I did just clean my blankets the other day…."

He swooped in to give you a feverish, greedy kiss that left no doubt where his mind had gone. When he finally pulled back, you were surprised your legs could still hold you upright. Your whole body felt like puddy in his arms and he had only kissed you, albeit you doubted you would ever forget the way his mouth worshiped yours.

"You are certain? You want this?" He softly asked, staring into your eyes once more. "You want me?"

It was the last question, the vulnerable undertone, the hint of insecurity in it that sealed your decision. Letting your actions be your answer, you grabbed his hand and started pulling him in the direction of the door to your home. It did not take more than a second for him to come beside you, wrapping his arm around your waist.

With his taste on your lips, the future did not matter right now. It did not matter that he was Dane and you were not. All you knew was Sihtric was neither a saint nor a sinner, but simply a man deserving of love. The river of your love was pointing you directly towards him, and you silently vowed to never let it run dry.

#ems100 #mzwrites #The Last Kingdom #the last kingdom fanfic #the last kingdom fandom #the last kingdom imagine #sihtric x reader #sihtric kjartansson #Sihtric #sihtric imagine #Uhtred #Uhtred of Bebbanburg #osferth #finan #finan the agile

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lumosandnoxwriting · 4 years

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Good Girl - George Weasley

Title: Good Girl Pairing: George x female!slytherin!Reader Summary: George has been the reader’s enemy since their first year at Hogwarts together and now, in their final year the universe keeps throwing them together in ways that make the reader question why she ever hated George in the first place. Warnings: NSFW!! Slight Dom!george, begging, slight orgasm denial, thigh riding, oral (Male and female receiving), throat fucking, fingering, masturbation, unprotected sex A/N: The summary is shit but it’s an enemies to lovers slow burn. Seriously this is 22k words I lost control. This is for @those-born-to-fight who wanted some enemies to lovers with a Slytherin reader! There’s two different ~spicy~ scenes and the tiniest touch of angst towards the end. Feedback is always welcome, and requests are open!

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“God, do they ever just shut up?” Y/N grumbles, getting up to slam the door to her compartment closed. Adrian and Marcus laugh at her, but immediately stop when she glares at them, not wanting to face the consequences of annoying Y/N further.

There are very few things that Y/N outright hates. The list of things that mildly annoy her is quite long, but she reserves the word hate for only those special things that make her want to rip her hair out at the mere mention of them. Fred and George Weasley happen to be at the top of that list.

Like most students, Y/N had been enamored by the twins and their antics at first. Despite the fact that many of their practical jokes were aimed at members of her house and Snape, she found them quite funny. She had even thought about befriending the twins, the rivalry between their houses be damned. But after finding herself on the receiving end of a few too many Weasley practical jokes, she had begun to loathe them.

“I don’t know why you let them get under your skin,” Daphne comments, her tone dry and dull. Despite the fact that her eyes haven’t left the copy of Witch Weekly she’s flipping through, Y/N knows she’s been watching her fidget as the Weasley twins got rowdier and rowdier from their compartment down the hall.

“Because they’re, they’re,” Y/N pauses, trying to find the words to describe just how vile the Weasley Twins make her feel. “There isn’t even a word in the English dictionary that perfectly describes how insufferable they are.” She flips Adrian and Marcus off as they laugh at her frustration.

Daphne rolls her eyes and finally puts her magazine down. “You’re so dramatic, Y/N. Just drown them out like everyone else does. Take me, for example. I haven’t heard a thing either of them has said since third year.”

“That’s because they leave you alone, Daph,” Marcus drawls, coming to Y/N’s defense. This isn’t the first time the four of them have had this conversation and it surely will not be the last. “It’s kind of hard to ignore them when they send bludgers at you hard enough to knock your head off of your shoulders.”

“It’s pretty easy to knock someone’s head off of their shoulders when there isn’t anything in it, Marcus,” Daphne teases, pushing his shoulder lightly.

Adrian pretends to throw up at their behavior, causing Marcus to hit him over the head while Y/N laughs. Adrian ends up hitting Marcus back, and the boys hit at each other for a few moments while Daphne rolls her eyes and Y/N eggs them on.

“The contents of Marcus’s head aside,” Adrian says as he plops down next to Y/N, his breathing heavy from wresting Marcus to the ground. “He’s got a point, Daph. You’ve never actually been the victim of a Weasley prank. So, frankly your opinion doesn’t matter.”

Daphne flips Adrian off and picks her magazine up again. “I’m just saying. There are better things for Y/N to focus her attention on than those stupid Weasleys.”

“Yeah, whatever. I’d like to see you ignore them after they charm your shampoo to turn your hair neon yellow. It didn’t go back to normal for weeks!” Adrian laughs at the memory, and Y/N punches him in the thigh. “Watch yourself, Pucey or I’m gonna put yellow dye in your shampoo.”

“Trying to get in the shower with me, are you?” Adrian teases, throwing his arm over Y/N’s shoulder.

“In your dreams,” Y/N responds, picking up the book she had discarded after a particularly loud shout came from one of the Weasley twins.

She can feel Adrian chuckle as she leans into his side. “I’ll see you there.”

Y/N had almost forgotten about the Weasley twins entirely until she feels something hit her in the back of the head during dinner. She picks a piece of mashed potato out of her hair as she turns around, her eyes like daggers as she searches for the culprit. Of course, Fred and George are laughing to themselves, each of them waving at her as they make eye contact.

“Nice to see your hair back to normal, Y/N!” One of them, Fred she thinks, shouts at her.

“Yeah, I reckon if your hair had been yellow any longer you’d have to join Hufflepuff,” the other teases, causing the Gryffindors around them to laugh.

Y/N goes to stand up so she can knock the grins off of their faces, but Adrian puts his hands on her shoulders and forces her to sit back down. “It’s not worth it,” he hisses into her ear. “Not in front of all of the professors. Be smart about your revenge.”

Y/N glares at Adrian, but she relaxes, nonetheless. As much as she hates to admit it, Adrian is right. It’s only the first day back, she doesn’t need to go and get detention and lose Slytherin a bunch of points. Not yet at least.

“Hey Marcus, do me a favor and knock them off their brooms first chance you get.”

“You’re awfully cheery this morning,” Y/N comments to Daphne as they head up the stairs towards the Great Hall.

“What isn’t there to be cheery about? It’s the first day of the school year. Our last school year,” Daphne responds dreamily.

Y/N snorts in laughter, rolling her eyes at her best friend. “Ah yes. The hardest year of school yet, that certainly is something to be happy about.”

“Oh NEWTS? Who cares about those,” Daphne says casually as they enter the Great Hall and head towards the Slytherin table. “You don’t need good grades in school to be a good wife and mother.”

Y/N scoffs, choosing not to say anything. Unlike Daphne and most of the other girls in her house, she plans on actually having a career of her own. It is common for pureblood families to marry off their daughters to the sons of other pureblood families and often times the mark of a good pureblood girl wasn’t her brain, but her ability to stay silent, look pretty and boss around a house elf.

Thankfully, Y/N’s parents hadn’t raised her with the same values. They didn’t believe in the same archaic things most pureblood families did, and they had raised Y/N to have loftier ambitions than to be someone’s wife and a mother. Y/N’s father always joked that she had inherited her mother’s smart mouth, so it would be impossible for them to marry her off anyway.

“Just because you don’t care about your grades doesn’t mean the rest of us don’t. Right, guys?” Y/N asks as they sit down, looking for both Marcus and Adrian to back her up.

“Are you guys on this again?” Adrian asks, rolling his eyes. Much like Y/N’s hatred of the Weasley twins, Daphne failing to take school seriously was a frequent topic of conversation in their friend group.

“No need to get your panties in a twist, Pucey,” Y/N teases as she grabs some toast. “Daph is free to sit back and spend her last year of school doing nothing, but I on the other hand plan on actually doing good on my NEWTS. So, feel free to slack off with her, or study with me, I don’t really care.”

Marcus chuckles at Y/N’s attitude. “Damn, Y/N tell us how you really feel.”

Y/N chucks a piece of toast at Marcus’s head before she reaches for her bag. “Oh, I almost forgot, I’ve got all of your schedules.” She reaches into her bag and pulls out a small stack of papers, handing their designated paper to each friend.

“Wow, slacking on your Head Girl duties already and it’s only the first day of term,” Adrian teases with an easy smile.

Y/N flicks his ear. “You’re just jealous that you didn’t make Head Boy.”

Adrian rolls his eyes as he scans over the piece of paper. “Me? An administrative stick in the mud? I don’t think so.”

“Nah mate, you just were looking forward to spending hours alone with Y/N,” Marcus teases, causing both Y/N and Adrian to throw pieces of muffin at him.

“Moving on,” Daphne drawls, clearly tired of their antics. “What’s everyone got first lesson? I’ve got divination.”

When both Marcus and Adrian announce they have Arithmancy, Y/N frowns. “Guess I’ll be heading to Potions alone then.”

As Y/N heads down to Potions after breakfast she can feel her mood sinking. Potions is one of her favorite classes, and not just because Snape tends to favor Slytherins. She finds the art of Potions fascinating, and each lesson always tests the bounds of her knowledge. But class is always more enjoyable with her friends around.

Her mood only worsens as the Weasley Twins fall into step beside her, one on each side.

“Well, well, well, what do we have here, Georgie?” the twin on the left, who is obviously Fred, says playfully.

“Looks like little Y/N is heading to potions, Freddie,” George responds, lightly knocking into her shoulder.

Y/N stumbles on the step despite the light touch. Both Fred and George have a good six inches on her, and their time as beaters on the Gryffindor team has obviously left them both toned and muscular.

“And without her little gang of friends, what a shock,” Fred adds with a laugh as Y/N finds her balance.

“Friends? What friends?,” George teases.

When they reach the bottom of the stairs, Y/N glares at each of them. “You two dimwits are in NEWT level potions? Snape must have lowered his standards.”

“Oh Y/N how you wound us,” George gasps, clutching his chest.

Y/N rolls her eyes as they enter the Potions classroom, determined not to let the twins bother her. Daphne did have a point on the train yesterday, there were other things she needed to focus on besides the twins and their stupid games.

She takes her usual seat at the front of the classroom, expecting the twins to slink to the back of the class, far away from Snape’s prying eyes. Her fist automatically clenches when they slide into the seats directly behind her, her nostrils flaring.

This year certainly is going to be the hardest yet, and not just because of the rigorous coursework, Y/N thinks to herself as Snape begins class.

“You look, how do I put this nicely.” Marcus pauses. “Flustered.”

Y/N glares at him as she flops down next to Daphne. Potions had been an absolute disaster. She could hardly focus on her Memory Potion, too busy picking out the Jobberknoll Feathers the Weasley Twins kept putting in her hair. She had managed to make something barely acceptable, and Snape’s disappointment was evident.

“Screw off, Marcus. I just spent an hour dealing with Dimwit 1 and Dimwit 2 standing behind me doing everything in their power to piss me off. So, unless you wanna end up with your head in one of those pots and dragon dung fertilizer up to your ears, shut your mouth.”

Daphne laughs at Y/N’s outburst. “I told you just to ignore them, Y/N. Although dragon dung fertilizer up to the ears does sound like the perfect revenge plan. Not that I’m condoning letting someone, or someones, get under your skin so badly that you need revenge,” she pauses, winking at Y/N. “But if I were I think that would be the way to go.”

Before Y/N can get too lost in the thought of burying Fred and George in Dragon Dung Professor Sprout is entering the Greenhouse and starting class. But she definitely pushes the idea to the back of her mind for future consideration.

“I’m going to fling myself off the top of the astronomy tower,” Y/N announces as she collapses next to Daphne in the common room. After her short break from the Weasley Twins in Herbology, Y/N had to suffer through a double transfiguration and a charms lesson with them both sitting too close for comfort.

“Could you at least wait until it’s closer to the end of term? We could probably get an extra week off at the Christmas holiday,” Adrian says, not even bothering to look up from the Quidditch playbook in his lap.

Y/N groans, putting her head in her hands. “I need better friends, none of you are sympathetic of my suffering.”

“If you need sympathy go hang out with some Hufflepuffs,” Daphne tells her, throwing her arm around Y/N’s shoulder. “What did the twins do this time?”

Instead of answering Y/N reaches for her bag and pulls out her charms book, handing it over to Daphne. “Go ahead. Try and open it.”

Daphne gives her a look as she cautiously takes it from her hands. She shares a look with Marcus and Adrian, who were finally intrigued enough to pay attention, before she slowly opens it. As soon as it falls open there’s a whizzing noise followed by loud pops as a mini firework show starts to go off. Daphne squeals and quickly shuts the book, her eyes wide.

“What in the hell was that?” she asks, tossing it back to Y/N.

“Whatever it was it was kinda cool. Open it again,” Marcus says with a laugh.

Y/N glares at him and shoves the book back in her bag. “Fred and George did something to it, obviously. It scared the shit out of me when I opened it in class. Flitwick took 30 points! 20 for the interruption it caused and 10 for the curse word I yelled.”

Adrian and Marcus erupt in a fit of hysterics as they imagine the scene it must have caused, and Y/N gets up so she can beat both of them with a pillow. They both pick up their own pillows to retaliate, and the three of them spend the next several minutes hitting each other. It only ends when a spare pillow ends up flying over and smacking Pansy Parkinson in the back of the head, causing all four of them to collapse in fits of laughter.

Y/N is the first to calm down, wiping a few stray tears from her eyes. “Oh, that was absolutely incredible. Just what I needed.” As the rest of her friends pull themselves together Y/N grabs her bag. “Come on, let’s go to dinner. I wanna catch Dimwit 1 and Dimwit 2 so I can make them fix my stupid book.”

When the four of them arrive at the Great Hall Daphne, Marcus and Adrian head towards the Slytherin table, while Y/N makes a beeline towards the Gryffindor table. “Oi! Weasley!” When three red heads whip around to look at Y/N she sighs. Only one of the twins is sitting at the table, and it’s a 50/50 chance she gets it right, so she decides to just take a guess at which one it is. “George!”

“To what do I owe this pleasure?” George asks as Y/N reaches the table.

She smiles to herself, proud that she had gotten it right. Y/N had never taken the time to learn the differences between the two, but now that she’s examining George she can tell that his eyes are softer, like there’s some reservation behind them. She takes out her charms textbook and places it on the table in front of him.

“Fix it,” she demands.

“Fix what?” he asks coyly, a mischievous smile on his face.

Y/N clenches her fist and takes a deep breath, trying to keep her composure. “Don’t play stupid, Weasley. Just fix my book.”

George laughs. “Who said I’m playing stupid? You’re the one that called me a dimwit earlier, and you’re right. I am a dimwit.”

Their exchange has caught the attention of the Gryffindors sitting around them, and they’re all watching Y/N intently, smiles playing at the corners of their mouths.

“Look, your stupid little prank has already served its purpose. It scared me and I lost Slytherin some points. Just fix the damn thing, will you?” Y/N is starting to get desperate, but she doesn’t let it show. She keeps her expression blank, not wanting George to know how truly bothered she is.

“I don’t know. Maybe I would be more inclined to fix it if you asked me nicely, Y/N,” his tone is teasing, so much so it almost sounds condescending. The students sitting around them laugh lightly, waiting to see what Y/N does next.

Y/N grits her teeth, weighing her options in her head. She could stand here and nicely ask George to fix her book, or she could walk away and send an owl home to have her parents send her a new one. And even though she is tempted to just take the easy way out, she’ll be damned if she lets a Weasley twin get one over on her.

She takes a deep breath and plasters a sickeningly sweet, fake smile on her face. “George, would you please fix my Charms book?”

A look of surprise quickly crosses George’s face, before he replaces it with an easy smile. “Of course, Y/N. Thank you so much for being a good girl and asking nicely.” The Gryffindor table is basically in full on hysterics by now, and Y/N can feel her cheeks heating up. As soon as George has pressed his wand to her book and muttered the countercharm she snatches it off the table.

“Thanks so much, George,” she forces out, before she turns to head over to the Slytherin table. “Fucking prick.”

She sits down between Adrian and Draco Malfoy with a huff, already trying to figure out what her revenge will be. The conversation she’d had with Marcus and Daphne in Herbology pops back into her head and a wicked smile forms on her face.

“Why couldn’t you get Daphne to do this? It’s freezing out here,” Adrian whispers as he shivers.

Y/N rolls her eyes as they tiptoe through the greenhouse. “And you lot call me dramatic.” They both freeze in place when they hear a creek, but when no other noise comes they continue on. “Daphne Greengrass, awake past 10 pm? Ms. Beauty sleep is a nightmare if she doesn’t get a full 8 hours, you know that.”

When they reach the container Professor Sprout keeps the Dragon Dung fertilizer in she turns to Adrian, giving him a mischievous grin. “Besides, you know you’d regret it if you didn’t come with me. Now quick, hand me the bags.”

After they get the required materials from the Greenhouse, she and Adrian quietly sneak back in the castle and head up towards the Owlery. It takes them longer than anticipated, since they have to keep ducking behind statues and into classrooms to avoid Filch and Mrs. Norris, but eventually they make it. They both sigh in relief when they return to the common room 30 minutes later, the final part of Y/N’s plan in place for the morning.

“You kind of amaze me, you know that?” Adrian says with a laugh as they both head towards the staircases that lead to their dorms.

Y/N chuckles and shakes her head. “You’re only nice to me so you don’t end up on the end of one of my revenge plans.”

The next morning Y/N is up bright and early, her body practically vibrating with excitement. Despite the fact that the Weasley Twins have been pulling pranks on her since first year, this is the first time she’s decided to retaliate.

She could deal with most of their antics. Locking her in the toilets, charming her shampoo, hitting her with snowballs and every other little trick or joke they pulled, Y/N could just grin and bear it. But having to stand in the middle of the Great Hall and practically beg George to fix her book was her tipping point. She can practically still hear him calling her a good girl and it causes a shiver to run down her spine. After today Fred and George will certain think twice about messing with her.

“Hurry up!” she urges her friends as she races to the top of the stairs. The owl post will be arriving in a few minutes, and there is no way she’s missing the big show. Adrian picks up his pace to meet her, but Daphne and Marcus continue up the stairs slowly, caught up in conversation. “You lot are hopeless.”

Y/N practically skips into the Great Hall and after sitting down where she knows she’ll have the perfect view of what’s about to happen she rubs her hands together. Daphne and Marcus give her a confused look as they sit down across from her and Adrian, who thankfully shares her excitement.

“What has gotten into you, Y/N, you look like you’re about to jump out of your skin,” Daphne comments, sounding slightly concerned that her friend may have gone mad.

As the first few owls start to fly in, Y/N grins and gestures towards the Gryffindor table. “Shush, shush. Just look over there and you’ll find out.”

Y/N holds her breath as two familiar owls fly in, each of them holding a package. They soar towards the Gryffindor table, and instead of gracefully dropping their parcels in front of their recipients they drop them a few moments early. The brown paper bags explode as they hit Fred and George at the same time, Dragon Dung Fertilizer pouring down their heads and onto their shoulders and laps.

The entire Great Hall is silent for a moment, before nearly every student bursts into laughter. The most noise comes from the Slytherin table, and Y/N’s chest swells with pride. Adrian pats her on the back as Daphne and Marcus turn back to congratulate her on a prank well done.

Y/N can’t stop looking at the Twins, and her breath catches in her throat when they return her gaze. She sends them both a wink and a wave, giggles still falling from her lips.

“You think you’re hilarious, don’t you?” George asks Y/N as he and his brother slide into the seats behind her and Daphne in Defense Against the Dark Arts that afternoon. She hasn’t seen either of them since they left the Great Hall to get cleaned up, but at lunch Astoria informed her that Ginny Weasley had told her that both boys were quite annoyed.

Y/N laughs but doesn’t turn around to look at either of them. “Nice to see you boys managed to clean up.”

“You’re playing a dangerous game, Y/N,” Fred says, leaning forward in his seat to ensure Y/N hears him.

She rolls her eyes, but still doesn’t look back at them. “What? You can’t take what you dish out? I thought you two were tougher than that.” Daphne nudges Y/N, gesturing to the front of the classroom where Professor Umbridge is now standing, clearly telling her to knock it off with the twins.

“Oh, it’s on. You have no idea what you’ve started,” George whispers at her. She imagines that he’s trying to sound threatening, but she can hear the smile in his voice.

As Professor Umbridge starts rambling on about her expectations, Y/N turns to face the twins. “Bring it on, bitch.”

“No magic? No practical lessons? She was joking, right?” Y/N rambles as they head towards the Great Hall for dinner. They’ve all just come from a dreadful Defense Against the Dark Arts class, where Professor Umbridge had made it very clear that they’d be spending the year doing nothing but reading from their textbooks.

Daphne rolls her eyes. “Frankly I don’t see what the big deal is. She’s not wrong, our Defense Against the Dark Arts classes have been all over the place. I think it’s a good thing that we’re finally going to have some structure and unity.”

Y/N groans, looking to Adrian and Marcus for support. She frowns when they both refuse to meet her gaze. “That’s because you don’t care about doing good on your NEWTS. You don’t need an O on your exams to marry Marcus or whoever your parents have picked out for you to be with after graduation,” she spits.

Before Daphne has the chance to pick her jaw up off of the ground and respond, Y/N is turning around and heading away from her friends, needing to be alone.

“Are you alright?”

Y/N picks her head up from where she had buried it in her arms, surprised to see Ginny Weasley standing in front of her. She nods as she uncurls her body, stretching it out slightly. She had taken refuge on a random bench in one of the corridors and after sitting on the stone for a few hours her body has begun to ache. She moves down the bench a little and gestures for Ginny to take a seat.

While the Weasley Twins are Y/N’s least favorite people in the world, she actually doesn’t mind their siblings. She had gotten to know Percy quite well, since they had been Prefects together for a year before he had become Head Boy, and he had helped her out on quite a few transfiguration assignments during her OWL year. All she knows about Ron are the things Draco has said, but she doubts that anything that comes from his mouth is true. She’s never had a conversation with Ginny, but Daphne’s younger sister Astoria is quite friendly with her, so if she’s willing to befriend a Slytherin she’s alright in Y/N’s book.

“You seemed pretty angry earlier, before dinner. I just wanted to make sure you were okay.”

Y/N fidgets with her school robes as her cheeks flush, she had been hoping that no one had witnessed her outburst. She had heard too often that Slytherins were mean and evil, so she always did her best to contain her emotions around others, not wanting to perpetuate the stereotype even further.

“You saw that then?” When Ginny nods she sighs. “It’s just been a frustrating few days and I love my friends, but they don’t always get it. That stupid Umbridge is really going to screw me over this year and I can’t fail now. Not when I’ve spent the last seven years working my ass off.”

“I’m really sorry, Y/N that sounds awful. There’s going to be this, thing. A meeting or whatever. Next weekend during the first Hogsmeade trip,” Ginny pauses so she can tuck a piece of parchment into her hand. “Stop by, it might be, uh helpful to you.” With a warm smile and a pat on the shoulder Ginny leaves Y/N alone.

With a heavy sigh Y/N starts to head to the common room. She uncurls the piece of paper Ginny had handed her, fearful that this might be some elaborate set up for one of her brother’s tricks.

Hogshead Inn, 12 pm, is all the paper reads in neat handwriting that Y/N doesn’t recognize. She shoves the piece of parchment into her pocket as she reaches the dungeons, trying to decide whether or not to go.

The rest of the week and the next pass by slowly much to Y/N’s dismay. Things between her, Marcus and Adrian returned to somewhat normal, but Daphne is still refusing to speak to her. No matter how many times Y/N apologized Daphne just kept ignoring her. The fact that the Weasley Twins were lurking behind every corner just pushed Y/N closer to the edge, so by the time Saturday arrived Y/N didn’t care if the note Ginny had slipped her the previous week was the bait for an elaborate prank. She just needed some sort of human interaction.

Due to her and Daphne’s still strained relationship and the first Slytherin Quidditch practice of the school year, Y/N is all alone as she heads to Hogsmeade. Normally she’d not even bother going if her friends didn’t accompany her, but her lack of company makes it easier for her to slip down the forgotten path that leads to the Hogshead Inn.

She looks the dim building up and down as she approaches, grimacing at its appearance. Adrian and Marcus had tried to convince her and Daphne to enter the pub with them during one of their first trips to the little village on the outskirts of Hogwarts, but the girls had overpowered them, and dragged them into Honeydukes instead.

She pauses briefly at the entrance, trying to prepare for the things that could be waiting for her on the other side. She enters through the door slowly, her eyes widening in surprise at the scene she’s met with. It certainly is not what she had expected. Harry Potter, Ron Weasley and Hermione Granger are sitting in front of the unlit fireplace, with more than a dozen chairs facing them. Some are empty, while others are taken up by students that Y/N vaguely recognizes. Ginny gives her a wave when they make eye contact, motioning for her to take a seat.

Y/N sits down in a seat towards the back and fidgets with the sleeves of her jumper. She’s relaxed slightly since she entered, this clearly wasn’t some elaborate prank set up by Fred and George, but she’s still unsure of what she just walked in to.

“What are you doing here?” Comes a voice from behind her, causing Y/N’s shoulders to tense up. She turns around only to be met with Fred and George.

“Come to spy on us, Head Girl? Want to get all of our secrets and then run off to the greaseball you call Head of House to tattle on us?” Fred sneers as he and George push past her to take the seats in front of her.

Y/N rolls her eyes and crosses her arms. “Clearly I’m here for the same reasons you are, moron. If I was spying on you why would I just be sitting here out in the open?”

Truly, Y/N has no idea what she’s doing there, Ginny had been extremely vague. All she knows is that this meeting will somehow make dealing with Umbridge better, and after the awful start to term she’s had Y/N is willing to do anything at this point.

Before either Fred or George can respond, Hermione is urging everyone to take a seat so they can begin.

45 minutes later Y/N is standing behind Fred and George, waiting her turn to sign the paper that will make her an official member of Dumbledore’s Army. Y/N was skeptical at first about getting involved in whatever Harry and Hermione had cooked up. But as Harry talked more, about needing real, practical knowledge Y/N couldn’t help but agree. She had always been so focused on school and her future career that she never even considered what lay waiting for them outside of Hogwarts’ protective walls.

Y/N hadn’t known Cedric well. A conversation or two during Prefect duties, idle pleasantries in the hall, but that was it. But she had spent much of her summer vacation thinking about him, and about what Dumbledore had said about his death. While her friends and many of her housemates thought Dumbledore was an old crack pot, Y/N trusted and believed him. Her parents did as well, and they had talked about the first wizarding war with her over dinner on several different occasions.

As she listened to Harry talk about what he had seen and what he has already dealt with, Y/N knew that she needed to be a part of whatever he was planning. Being able to get some practice with actual defensive magic would surely help her when it came to end of the year exams, but if they truly were getting ready for another war, it may just help save her life.

As she heads back towards school, she can’t help but think about a conversation she’d had with her father not too long before the school year started again. He had reminded her that she had been placed in Slytherin house because of her ambitions in life, and her willingness to do whatever it takes to get there. Before he had kissed her goodnight he told her that it wasn’t always what you know, but who you know and that the people she surrounded herself with was just as important as focusing on her studies.

At first she had scoffed at his thinly veiled digs at her friends. Y/N has been friends with Marcus, Daphne and Adrian since first year, and she had never felt the need to expand her circle. Her parents were quite familiar with the families her friends came from, and the values they held. She knew that her parents didn’t exactly like her friends but were still supportive of Y/N and the relationship she formed with them.

But now, after seeing how badly the Daily Prophet was slandering both Dumbledore and Harry and hearing directly from Harry what he’d been through, Y/N understands what her father was saying. The Greengrass’ and Flint’s had been suspected Death Eaters all those years ago and its likely members of Adrian’s family had ties to Voldemort as well. Her father had been encouraging her to seek out new friendships to try and protect her from the Dark Arts that seemed very attractive to members of Slytherin house.

She’s so lost in thought that she doesn’t hear the Weasley Twins coming up behind her until they’re knocking into her shoulders as they pass by. She flips them off behind their backs, trying to ignore their chuckling.

“I can’t believe I just signed up to spend even more time with those twats,” she mumbles to herself as the castle comes into view. While she doesn’t mind having Harry, Hermione, Ron and Ginny on her side, she plans on staying as far away from the Weasley Twins as possible.

That night at dinner Y/N is listening to Adrian and Marcus bicker over what drills to run during their next practice when her mouth starts to tingle. Her eyes widen when she takes another sip of pumpkin juice and the sensation only gets worse. Adrian and Marcus give her a concerned look as she begins to fidget and from the corner of her eye Y/N can see that Daphne is watching as well.

“What the hell is wrong with you?” Adrian asks as Y/N slaps her hands over her mouth.

Except she can’t respond. Her tongue has started to swell in her mouth so much so that it’s trying to force its way past her lips. It feels like it weighs a ton and as the pain increases she has no choice but to let it slowly seep out of her mouth.

“What’s the matter, Y/N?” she hears George shout from the Gryffindor table, causing groups of students to look over at her. She’s desperately trying to contain her growing tongue as she gets up to head to the Hospital Wing.

“Cat got your tongue?” she can hear Fred call behind her, nearly drowned out by the peeling laughter coming from the Great Hall.

When she gets back to the common room that night, Y/N is expecting it to be empty. But when she’s barely closed the door behind her a mess of black curls takes over her vision and arms wrap around her tightly.

“Oh, thank Merlin you’re alright. I thought you would have been back ages ago. What happened?” Daphne asks as she lets go. She leads Y/N over to a set of couches in the corner, where Adrian and Marcus are waiting for them.

Adrian pulls her down next to him and Daphne sits so close to Y/N on the other side that she’s practically in her lap. “Would you all stop fussing? I’m fine, honest,” she says with a reassuring laugh. While Y/N is fine, she can’t help but lean into Adrian’s side, feeling relieved that things are back to normal between the four of them.

“Let me guess, Weasley Twin revenge?” Marcus asks.

Y/N nods, smiling when Daphne curses them under her breath. “A creation they like to call Ton-Tongue Toffees. They must have managed to get it into my goblet or something, so it melted into my pumpkin juice. It took ages to get the swelling to go down but Madam Pomfrey managed it. I’ve just spent the last 45 minutes listening to Snape try and get the maximum punishment for them.”

Y/N knows that not many people like Snape, that it’s really only Slytherins that appreciate him. It’s no secret that he favors his house almost unfairly so, but she doesn’t really mind it when he’s advocating for them. The twins had technically poisoned her, which is something Snape had pointed out when McGonagall suggested only taking points away from the boys for a “harmless” prank. Snape had managed to negotiate on Y/N’s behalf, and the boys will now be serving a week’s detention with Snape.

“So, what are you gonna do to get back at them?” Daphne asks, causing all three of them to give her a look. “What?”

“What happened to all that crap about just ignoring them?” Marcus teases.

Daphne rolls her eyes. “To hell with all that. They want a prank war? Well then let’s show them what being a Slytherin is all about.”

By the time Monday morning rolls around Y/N is in such a good mood that she practically skips down the stairs to Potions. The fake Galleon Ginny had slipped her during lunch yesterday had burned red this morning, letting Y/N know that the DA’s first official meeting would be taking place this Thursday. So not only was she going to get some real defensive magic training, but after the Twin’s prank on Saturday evening her and Daphne were able to properly make up and she had her friends back.

She bites her lip as the twins fall in step beside her once again, determined not to let their presence ruin her mood.

“How’s your tongue feeling this morning?” Fred asks from her right side.

“Any bloating? Tingling? Lasting side effects?” George teases from her left side.

Y/N shakes her head and chuckles. “It’s okay boys, go ahead and make your jokes. I want you to remember how good you feel now, because once I’ve gotten you back you’ll wish you’d never messed with me.”

She can hear them both laugh as they enter the Potions class and take their respective seats. “Really? Already planning your next late-night trip into the greenhouses?” George muses.

Y/N turns in her seat so she can look each of them in the eyes. “Oh, you poor, sweet, boys,” she mocks. “When I’m done with you the dragon dung fertilizer you took to the head will seem like a shower of rose petals.” She gives them a sly wink, and turns back around, their shocked expressions still dancing around in her brain.

“So, you figured out what you’re going to do them, then?” Daphne asks excitedly after Y/N has finished recounting her conversation with Fred and George to her and Marcus in Herbology. Professor Sprout has tasked them with dissecting Shrivelfigs, so the three of them can talk freely. Even though her and her friends had spent most of Sunday trying to concoct the perfect revenge plan they had come up with nothing that was quite right.

“I guess you could say that.” When Marcus and Daphne give her questioning looks she giggles. “I’m not going to actually do anything to them.” When they both still look confused she rolls her eyes. “I’m just going to let them think that something big is coming. That way they’re always on edge when I’m around, always looking over their shoulders, waiting for some huge prank to befall them. It’ll drive them bonkers trying to figure out when and where it’s gonna happen.”

Marcus gives Y/N a look of appreciation. “Damn, that’s pretty brilliant, Y/N.”

Y/N bows at his praise, causing Daphne to chuckle. “What they got this morning is just a taste of what I have planned for tonight.”

Y/N sneaks out of the common room that night, not too long after dinner. She knows that Fred and George will be serving detention with Snape and that it’s the perfect opportunity to mess with them.

When she reaches the Potions classroom she pauses just outside the door to ensure that Snape isn’t actually still in the room with the boys. When all she can hear is the clatter of cauldrons and Fred and George’s soft voices, she decides to go for it.

“Excuse me, Professor?” Y/N asks innocently as she enters the classroom. “Oh, boys! What a treat, seeing you down in our ends this late at night.” Y/N walks further into the classroom and she can’t help but smile as the twins start to fidget.

“What are you doing here, Y/N?” Fred asks, eyeing her warily.

She puts the most innocent look on her face as she can, blinking up at the two of them. “I’m looking for Professor Snape. Is he around?”

“No, he left us alone quite a bit ago,” George responds. Y/N can tell he’s trying to hide how nervous he sounds. Fred seems like the one to never back down, so Y/N switches her tactic slightly. She starts to walk closer to George and she has to bite her lip to keep the smile off her face as he tries to subtly move away from her.

“That’s a shame. I have a question I need to ask him.” Y/N leans against the table, moving that much closer to George. “Did he say when he was going to be back?”

“He didn’t,” Fred answers, making direct eye contact with Y/N. She returns his gaze, not backing down until he looks away from her.

Feeling accomplished Y/N smacks the table with her palm and stands back up. “Well I guess I’ll leave you boys to it.” She heads towards the door. “Have fun.” With one final wink she’s out the door, laughing to herself as she goes.

Before Y/N knows it, Thursday has already arrived. She tries her best to contain her excitement, but as the first DA meeting approaches it’s getting harder and harder. She feels bad for not telling her friends about what she’s involved in, but she knows it’s for the better. They certainly wouldn’t approve of the unofficial club, and she doesn’t want to chance that they’ll blow the whole operation in to Umbridge.

“I’ll see you guys later,” Y/N says with a wave as she heads to leave the common room. She told the others she had some Head Girl duties to take care of so they wouldn’t try and come with her when she left.

As she heads towards the room of requirement Y/N takes the time to glance over her shoulder every once in a while to make sure no one is following her. She had been the only Slytherin in attendance at the Hogshead Inn, and she doesn’t need to be trusted even less by bringing unwanted guests with her.

When she finally enters the room of requirement it’s a bit crowded, but she can tell that not everyone has arrived yet. Ginny waves at Y/N, motioning for her to come and join her and Hermione. She’s silently thankful for her invitation so she doesn’t have to stand there by herself and goes to join the two girls.

“Hey, Ginny. Granger,” she greets them both with an awkward wave. She doesn’t know much about Hermione, again, having only heard about her from Draco. She’s had to interact with her a few times due to Hermione being a prefect, but for some odd reason she trusts Ginny, so she figures that Hermione is alright to hang out with.

“Y/N I’m really glad you decided to join. Not only is it probably helpful to have the Head Girl on our side, it’s also really nice to have some house diversity,” Hermione says with a genuine smile.

Y/N can feel her cheeks start to heat up, so she clears her throat, giving her a moment to regain her composure. “Thanks, Hermione. I never really understood it, all of the house rivalry mumbo jumbo. I’m just supposed to automatically hate you because some hat put you in one house over another? Seems silly to me.”

She hears someone scoff behind her, and she turns to see George standing behind her, his arms crossed over his chest. “What? Got a problem, Weasley?”

“That’s real big talk considering the fact that you’ve had some grudge against me and Fred since first year, Y/N,” he says, looking at her curiously.

“I don’t hate you and Fred because you’re Gryffindors,” she explains with an eye roll. “I hate you because you’re ungodly annoying.” She bites her lip, allowing herself to look him up and down. His sleeves are rolled up to his elbows, and Y/N can’t deny that his arms look downright filthy. She had never truly looked at George, he was quieter than Fred, so he didn’t quite capture her attention like his brother had. But now that he’s standing over her, she can’t deny that he’s attractive. He is most certainly her mortal enemy, but he’s an attractive enemy at least.

“If anything, you and Fred are the ones who started our rivalry,” she continues a moment later when her eyes meet his again. “You locked me in the girl’s bathroom with Moaning Myrtle for three hours on the second day of school, remember?”

“Oh yeah,” George says with a laugh. “Forgot about that.”

Y/N rolls her eyes, turning her attention to Harry as he starts the meeting. He decides to start with something basic but effective, disarming. Y/N could disarm any witch or wizard in her sleep, but not everyone there is at the same skill level, so she’s willing to get some practice in.

They start to break up into pairs and Y/N looks around, trying to find someone, anyone to work with. Of course, George is with Fred, Ginny is already working with a Ravenclaw Y/N thinks is named Luna, and Hermione is with Ron. She ends up locking eyes with Neville Longbottom and she motions for him to come join her.

“I’ll work with you Neville.”

He gives her an appreciative smile, and as he crosses the room George nudges him. “Watch out for her Neville. You never know what she might be up to, this could all be a big ploy to take out the entire Gryffindor house.”

Y/N flips him off, giving Neville a warm smile. “Just ignore him, he’s an idiot.” They both take their stance, wands at the ready. She has heard Draco and his cronies make fun of Neville for hours on end, so she’s not really expecting much to happen.

When Neville waves his wand and shouts Expelliarmus, his own wand flies out of his hand and clatters to the floor at Y/N’s feet. His cheeks turn a bright red, and Y/N can practically feel how embarrassed he is. He looks at her expectantly, like he’s waiting for her to laugh and say something rude.

She sends him a smile and grabs his wand. “That was a really good try, Neville. The first time I tried to disarm someone I nearly blinded Professor Quirrell when my wand shot out of my hand and flew across the room,” she reassures him with a laugh. When Neville laughs too she hands him his wand back. “Here, try moving your wand like this.” She shows him the proper wand movement before she takes her place again. “Ready?”

Two hours later when Y/N is heading back towards the Slytherin common room, she feels accomplished. Neville had managed to get her wand to wiggle in her grip by the end of it, and she could tell he was proud of himself.

Y/N is thinking about all the homework she has to do tonight when someone falls into step beside her. “Alright, give it up, what’s your deal?”

She looks up at George before she examines the rest of the hallway. “Where’s your brother? I thought you two did everything together.”

“He’s down in the kitchens getting food, not that it’s any of your business,” he adds quickly. “And stop dodging the question. What’s your deal?”

She rolls her eyes and stops walking. “I don’t have any idea what you’re talking about.” George turns to face her, crossing his arms over his chest. She mirrors his stance, looking up at him.

“Don’t play stupid. You know what I’m talking about.”

Y/N sighs, rolling her eyes again. “So, what because I’m a Slytherin I can’t participate in clandestine clubs? Your sister is the one who invited me to that meeting, so go and ask her why she did it. All I did was show up. I liked what Harry said and since Umbridge isn’t doing anything to help us with NEWTS I signed up. That’s it.”

George doesn’t respond immediately, instead he studies Y/N’s face, trying to see if she’s lying. He goes to say something when someone interrupts them.

“Mr. Weasley! Ms. Y/L/N!” They both jump as Professor McGonagall comes down the hall towards them. “What are you two doing out past curfew?” Y/N and George look to each other with a worried glance, not entirely sure what to say. “Never mind the reason, you shouldn’t be out of your common rooms at this hour. I’ll have 15 points from each of your houses and I’ll see you both in detention tomorrow evening!”

Y/N gives George one last glare before she stalks all the way back to her common room.

“What exactly were you doing standing in a hallway with George Weasley past curfew anyway?” Daphne asks Y/N the next day at lunch.

Daphne had just finished explaining the evening she had planned out for them when Y/N informed her that she’d be stuck in detention with George for the beginning portion of their girl’s night.

Y/N shrugs, trying to act casual. “I finished up my Head Girl stuff and was going back to the common room when I saw him sneaking around. I followed him, figuring I could catch him doing something. I confronted him and McGonagall saw us and gave us detention.”

“Maybe that was his plan all along, maybe he was trying to get you in trouble,” Daphne suggests.

“Yeah but he got in trouble too, Daph,” Y/N reminds her with a laugh.

The other girl shrugs, taking a bite of her Yorkshire pudding. “I didn’t say it was a smart plan.” Marcus and Adrian arrive then, taking their respective seats next to the girls.

“Who didn’t have a smart plan?” Marcus asks as he starts to pile food on his plate.

“George Weasley,” Y/N answers, batting away Adrian’s hand as he tries to steal her roll. “I caught him sneaking around one of the hallways after curfew and McGonagall rolled up on us and gave us detention.”

“Detention? On a Friday night? What about our hot date?” Adrian teases, making another attempt at stealing her roll.

Y/N flips him off and lets him have it. “The only hot date you’re going to have tonight is your right hand.”

Y/N groans as she picks up another teapot to clean. Her and George have been serving their detention in complete silence for twenty minutes and her brain feels like it’s going to mush. “Is detention always this boring?” she asks, not really expecting George to respond.

“No. But mostly because I’m usually with Fred, not you,” George replies dully.

“Oh, how you wound me, George,” she responds, mocking the tone he had used with her on the first day of term.

They work together in silence for a few minutes before George puts down the teapot he had been scrubbing and tosses his rag to the side. “So, I asked Ginny,” he says, turning to look at Y/N.

Y/N gives him a look as she turns to face him as well, discarding what she had been doing. “Asked Ginny what?”

George rolls his eyes at her, clearly annoyed that Y/N had forgotten the conversation they had in the hall the previous night. “Why she told you about the meeting at the Hogshead, about Dumbledore’s Army.”

“Oh,” she responds softly. When she had said that to George last night she hadn’t expected him to actually ask, she was just trying to get him to leave her alone. “And what did she say?” George gives her a look, causing Y/N to roll her eyes. “Fine, don’t tell me. You’re the one that brought it up.”

George chuckles at her frustration. “Aw come on, I’m just kidding.” He pauses. “She said that Astoria Greengrass talks about you a ton, about how you’re different than other Slytherins. She said something about how you got into a fight with your friends, and she decided that if she talked to you and you were cool enough, she would invite you.”

“So, I’ve got the Ginny Weasley stamp of approval? I’m honored,” she says with a laugh, her surprise evident in her tone. “Does that make me alright then? Since I’m different than other Slytherins? Whatever that means.”

George shrugs his shoulders. “I think I know what she means.” When Y/N raises an eyebrow at him he continues. “Oh, come on don’t act like you don’t know it. You’re nice.”

Y/N scoffs, lightly shoving his arm. “Slytherins being mean is just a stereotype, George. Tons of the people in my house are nice. Daphne is nice, and so are Marcus and Adrian.”

“Cut the crap, Y/N,” he chides. “Daphne, Marcus and Adrian are nice to you and the other members of your house because you all share that in common. But you’re nice to, well most people honestly. Everyone even, except maybe me and Fred. But we aren’t nice to you either, so I understand it.”

Y/N opens her mouth to respond, but George puts his hand up to stop her. “Take yesterday, for example. I saw you, with Neville. The way you made him feel better about his failure, how you encouraged him and helped him improve. Daphne or Marcus or any other Slytherin wouldn’t have done that. They’d have laughed in his face and you know it.”

“I guess you’re right,” she admits softly, a slight blush on her cheeks from George’s kind words.

“So, you’re so worried about your NEWTs that you’re willing to spend hours practicing a spell you mastered in 2nd year? Thought you were top of our class?” he teases.

Y/N plays with her fingers and fidgets in her seat. She knows the question is innocent, but it feels like George can see right into her soul. That’s he looking at all her worst fears. “I am, yeah. I need at least an Exceeds Expectations on my defense against the dark arts NEWT to be a Healer and I’ve already worked so hard, I can’t screw it up now, not when I’m this close.”

George is silent for a moment and he turns in his chair so he’s fully facing Y/N. When she does the same he speaks. “I didn’t know you want to be a healer.”

Y/N rolls her eyes, but she’s smiling. “There’s a lot you don’t know about me, Weasley. What is it you said? I’m not nice to you and you’re not nice to me. It’s always been that way.”

“Yeah I guess so,” he admits. “I never imagined you as a Healer, if I’m honest. But I think you’ll be amazing at it.”

Y/N blushes and looks down. “Thanks, I appreciate it. That’s all I’ve ever wanted to be, since I was a little kid. I used to pretend to Heal my dolls all the time. My parents even gave me a muggle doctors coat for Christmas once, I wore it like, every day,” she reminisces with a laugh.

George laughs along with her. “I fear that I may have seriously misjudged you, Y/N.”

“What do you mean?” she asks, lightly shoving his shoulder.

George blushes and Y/N finds it endearing. “I figured you and your family were like the other pureblood Slytherin dynasties. That you cared about your grades to make you a more appealing bride or something.”

Y/N nods in understanding. “Yeah I don’t blame you on that one. That’s what most people think. My parents were raised like that and they hated it. All the stupid rules, the lack of freedom. They’re lucky, they were able to find genuine love with each other. And they’re still so in love, it’s actually pretty sickening,” she says with a laugh. “But they agreed that when they had kids they wouldn’t raise them like that. That they’d let them think for themselves, find their own way in life. It’s been so hard, not to send an owl to my dad and tell him all about Dumbledore’s Army.”

“Really? He’d approve of it?” he asks, unable to help how surprised he sounds.

“Oh yeah,” she confirms with a laugh. “He was so angry all summer, with what the Daily Prophet is saying about Harry and Dumbledore. He even not so subtly suggested that I expand my horizons, make some friendships and connections with people from other houses. I think he’d be really excited about what Harry’s doing.”

“That’s actually really cool. I guess I definitely misjudged you then.”

They both get back to work then, but Y/N doesn’t feel as awkward anymore. She’s never bothered to have an actual conversation with either of the Weasley Twins, and she is quite surprised to find that she actually really enjoyed it.

When Y/N and George leave the transfiguration classroom a few hours later she’s exhausted and silently thanks Merlin that she is a Witch, because cleaning the muggle way is dreadful. Despite the late hour Y/N is surprised to see that the hallway isn’t empty. Adrian and Fred are leaning up against the wall across from the transfiguration classroom a few feet apart, glaring at each other.

“What are you doing here?” Y/N asks with a soft laugh, altering both boys of their arrival.

“I wanted to make sure George was alright. You’ve been spouting about your grand revenge plan all week, I wanted to make sure you didn’t try and pull anything while you two were alone,” Fred answers, finally looking away from Adrian so he can glare at Y/N.

Y/N rolls her eyes. “I wasn’t talking to you, Weasley. I don’t care why you’re here.” When Fred flips her off she returns the gesture.

“To answer your question,” Adrian starts as he walks towards her. “I came to accompany you back to the common room. A gentleman never lets a lady walk alone at night.”

“Well then where’s this gentleman?” she teases, looking around the hallway.

Before Adrian can respond Fred laughs. “Yeah, I don’t see a lady either.” George’s laughter joins his brothers and Y/N flips them off again.

When Adrian starts to move closer to Fred, Y/N grabs his arm and pulls him into her chest. “Not here, Adrian,” she whispers. “McGonagall is right in there,” she reminds him, gesturing towards the open classroom door with her head.

“You are so lucky, weasel,” Adrian practically growls at him. Y/N wraps her arms around Adrian’s waist and starts to pull him down the hall away from Fred and George. Adrian glares at them one last time before he turns forward and wraps his arm around her shoulder. “You should have let me hit him. One good hit would have been worth a month’s detention.”

“Not this close to quidditch season it’s not. Smack a few good bludgers at him instead,” Y/N pauses and she looks up at Adrian with her best puppy dog eyes. “Piggyback ride? Please?”

Adrian sighs heavily but crouches down in front of Y/N, nonetheless. She squeals in delight, climbing onto her friend’s back. Adrian grips her thighs tightly as he stands. “Ready?” Once he feels Y/N nod he sets off towards the common room. “You’re lucky I love you, brat.”

When Fred and George slide into their seats behind Y/N in Potions on Monday morning they don’t say a word. When she saw them enter the room she had tensed up, just waiting for whatever snarky comment they were bound to make. So, when they take their seats without a word, Y/N can’t help but turn around to look at them.

“What’s wrong with you two?” When neither of them responds, Y/N waves her hand in front of their faces. “Hello? Earth to Nitwit 1 and Nitwit 2.” She expected her insult to get them to at least look at her, but both of their focus is on the blackboard in the front of the room. She huffs in annoyance. “Whatever be pricks. I don’t care.” She turns back around and crosses her arms, trying to convince herself that she in fact doesn’t care that they’re ignoring her.

“Will you stop staring at them? It’s weird,” Marcus scolds Y/N that night at dinner, kicking her shin under the table to get her attention.

Y/N kicks him back, finally tearing her attention away from Fred and George. “They’re planning something,” she insists.

Daphne rolls her eyes and throws a carrot at Y/N. “First you complain that they’re always loud and bothering you and now you’re complaining that they aren’t bothering you. Will you just give it a rest? Be thankful that they’ve finally decided to leave you alone.”

Y/N sticks her tongue out at Daphne before she takes a bite out of the carrot she had thrown at her. She knows Daphne is right, but she can’t help but be bothered that Fred and George aren’t even trying to annoy her. As much as she hates to admit it, she misses their antics. Y/N had really enjoyed George’s company during their detention and part of her had hoped that maybe their newfound acquaintanceship would have carried over once they were no longer the only people in the room.

So, she had found herself quite disappointed that he hadn’t said a word to her all day. He hadn’t even looked at her. Y/N thought she had felt his gaze on her during Charms, but when she turned around to check he was focused on Flitwick.

“Daph is right,” Adrian whispers in her ear, bringing her thoughts back to the present. “They’re finally leaving you alone, you should be happy.”

Y/N shrugs her shoulders, her gaze falling upon Fred and George once again. “I am happy,” she lies. “I just know them too well. They’re planning something big. They’re trying to throw me off.” She flips her friends off when they all groan.

“What makes you think they’re planning something?” Marcus asks. “Did something happen between you and George during detention? You didn’t say too much about it.”

Y/N bites her lip. She hadn’t said much to her friends about her detention when her and Adrian arrived back in the common room that night, just that it was mind numbingly boring. She didn’t want them to know that she had not only had a conversation with George Weasley, but she had actually enjoyed it.

“No, nothing happened. We sat there cleaning teapots for hours, McGonagall came back and she let us go,” she says with a shrug, trying to seem casual. “He didn’t even say two words to me.”

“Exactly, so chill out. Enjoy the peace,” Daphne says.

When Y/N finally collapses in her bed that night she can’t seem to fall asleep despite how tired she is. She tosses and turns, her mind wandering to George and why she’s so bothered by the sudden lack of attention she’s getting from him. Her stomach lurches, realization hitting her like a ton of bricks.

I have a crush on George Weasley.

Y/N spends the rest of the week avoiding both Weasley Twins. She sits as far away from them as possible, refuses to look at them and even goes as far as to hide in an empty classroom when she sees them heading towards her one afternoon. Y/N is determined to extinguish whatever positive feelings she has towards George. She’s spent the past seven years hating his guts, and she is not about to let herself reverse all of that over some stupid crush. Unfortunately for Y/N, on Saturday morning her fake Galleon burns red, letting her know that there will be another DA meeting that night.

Which is why she’s currently heading towards the Room of Requirement, her stomach a pit of dread and despair. “Get it together, Y/N,” she mutters to herself. Y/N is standing just outside the room of requirement and she takes a deep breath to calm herself down.

Y/N pulls the door open and goes to head in, but she runs smack into the chest of someone trying to leave. An involuntary squeal leaves her lips as her body tenses up, preparing itself to hit the ground. Except she doesn’t even fall. A pair of strong arms wrap around her waist and she’s pulled into the other person’s chest.

“Woah there. Watch where you’re going.”

Y/N doesn’t have to look up to know that George Weasley is holding her in his arms. She can feel her cheeks heat up and she pushes away from him, needing to get away from him as fast as possible. “I could say the same to you, Weasley,” she sneers.

Even though her tone is crude Y/N can feel her heart fluttering in her chest and her skin is tingling from his touch. She looks up at his face, letting her eyes linger on his lips for just a second. She tries not to think about what it would feel like for him to grip her waist as they kissed.

“No need to be so feisty, Y/N,” George teases, snapping Y/N out of her thoughts.

She rolls her eyes and steps aside so George can leave, Fred following close behind him. “Maybe if you weren’t trying to mow me down I wouldn’t need to be,” she responds, watching as Fred flips her off behind his back.

She watches them walk away for a moment before heading into the room of requirement. Her palms are sweaty even from that small interaction with George and Y/N tries to subtly wipe them off on her skirt as she joins Ginny, Hermione and Ron in the back of the room.

“Where are they off to?” she asks after they’ve been talking for a few minutes, not wanting to seem too interested in George’s movements.

“Filch has been sniffing around for Umbridge, she knows Harry is up to something. So, Fred and George are going to slip him something that’ll put him out of commission for few hours,” Hermione explains.

Y/N nods. Hermione had made a few complaints to both Y/N and Miles, a Ravenclaw in her year that was Head Boy, that Fred and George had been spending their free time making an array of joke products and then testing them out on first years. “Despite the fact that I have been the victim of a Weasley product, I can’t say I feel bad for Filch.”

Once Fred and George slip back into the room of requirement and give Harry a thumbs up, he starts the meeting. They’re going to continue working on disarming, and Y/N immediately searches for Neville in the crowd. Neville certainly isn’t the most talented wizard, but Y/N can tell that he’s full of determination and she likes working with him. When Harry sets them off to work Neville joins her.

“You better watch out, Y/N, I’ve been practicing,” Neville says with a laugh as they take their stances.

“Alright then, Longbottom, let’s see what you’ve got.”

When Y/N leaves the Room of Requirement later that night, she can still hear Neville chattering to his friends happily as they head back to Gryffindor tower. It had taken him most of the meeting, but Neville had finally managed to get her wand to fly out of her hand. She was extremely happy for him as the other members of the DA came around to congratulate him, and not just because George had pressed up against her back as he patted Neville on the shoulder.

“Sneaking away without saying Goodbye, Y/N? I’m hurt,” George scolds teasingly as he comes up behind her.

She rolls her eyes, trying to contain her excitement. “Oh, so you’re speaking to me again?” she says as he falls into step next to her. He’s standing so close that their arms almost brush, and Y/N swallows down the butterflies that come up her throat.

“Aw, did little Y/N miss me?” George teases, shoving her shoulder.

“No,” Y/N responds far too quickly, trying not to get flustered from the contact. “Just surprised that you managed to go a whole week without annoying me that’s all.”

“Uh huh. Sure, whatever you say.”

She bites her lip, trying to contain her glee. Cut it out, she scolds herself. George Weasley is nothing more than an annoying git, you do not like him.

“Why are you following me, anyway? Last I checked Gryffindor’s common room is in the other direction,” she questions as they head down towards the Great Hall.

Y/N watches George shrug out of the corner of her eye. His face is blank, but Y/N can tell that he’s nervous. “Making sure you’re not getting up to anything is all.”

“Or you’re distracting me while your brother sets up some kind of trap,” she responds.

Suddenly she feels George’s hand wrap around her wrist and he’s pulling her into a nearby broom closet. As he slams the door shut behind them Y/N can’t help but notice just how close they are. Her back is pressed up against the wall and George is standing only a few inches away, his hands on either side of her head.

“What the hell is wrong with you?” Y/N demands, hoping that her voice doesn’t shake. George is towering over her, and Y/N can see the muscles on his forearms bulging in her peripheral vision. It is taking every ounce of willpower in her body to stay still.

George leans down as he chuckles and his warm breath tickles Y/N’s cheeks, causing a shiver to run down her spine. “I think what you mean to say is thank you because I just saved your ass from serving another detention with McGonagall.”

Her eyebrows knit together in confusion. “McGonagall? I didn’t see-.“ Y/N’s sentence is cut short as George places his hand over her mouth to silence her. Her breathing involuntarily speeds up and she hopes that George can’t feel the blush on her cheeks. Y/N can hear footsteps approaching the broom closet and she closes her eyes in fear of being caught in such a compromising position with George.

Thankfully the footsteps disappear just as quicky as they had come and Y/N sighs in relief when George takes his hand away. “Thank you,” she mutters. Y/N can still feel the imprint of his hand on her mouth and it makes her stomach feel queasy.

“You’re welcome,” George says, sounding pleased with himself. “We should probably stay here for a moment or two longer, just to make sure she’s gone.”

Y/N nods, her head tilting back so she can look at George’s face. She examines his features closely, trying to commit them to memory. After her realization earlier in the week she had spent every moment trying not to think about George, but now that they’re standing there so close he’s the only thing she can think about.

George clears his throat suddenly, breaking Y/N from her thoughts. “We’re uh, we’re probably good to go.”

“Yeah,” she agrees softly, trying not to let the disappointment she feels seep into her voice.

George lingers a moment longer, before he pulls away and slowly opens the door to their hiding spot. Y/N watches as he checks the hallway and follows him out when the coast is clear.

“Well um. Thanks for that,” she stutters, rubbing the back of her neck. “I’ll see you around, I guess.” Y/N starts to walk away, but she pauses when George follows behind her. She turns to look at him. “What are you doing?”

“You might still be up to something. I should follow you, just to make sure,” he responds confidently.

Y/N rolls her eyes but doesn’t say anymore, not wanting her giddiness to become noticeable. They walk side by side silently with Y/N glancing at George every few steps. As they reach the landing Y/N goes to turn down the corridor that will lead her down into the dungeons when she runs smack into someone for the second time that night. Except this time, it’s much less enjoyable.

“Professor Umbridge! I am so sorry,” Y/N apologizes as she fixes her balance. She may hate the woman, but she’ll be nice to her if it’ll get her out of a detention.

“Oh Ms. Y/L/N it is quite alright,” she practically squeaks while smiling at Y/N. Y/N imagines it’s meant to seem sweet, but it looks more like an evil grin. Umbridge’s eyes suddenly narrow as she looks past Y/N at George. “Mr. Weasley! Out in the corridors past curfew again I see. That’ll be detention with me, Monday and Tuesday evening.”

Y/N can hear George sputter behind her, and she turns around, cringing at the angry look on his face. “What about Y/N?” he asks angrily. “She’s out past curfew as well!”

Umbridge tuts, moving past Y/N as she heads back towards her office. “Yes, but Ms. Y/L/N is Head Girl I’m sure she has a good reason for being out in the halls.” Umbridge puts her hand up to stop George from responding. “Now that is enough out of you, Mr. Weasley. I suggest you head back to your common room before I make your detention a whole week.”

They both watch as Umbridge walks away and when Y/N turns to look at George, he’s already watching her. “I’m really sorry about that, George,” she says quietly.

George scoffs. “Yeah whatever.” He stalks off then, and it takes everything in Y/N to not follow behind him.

As Y/N enters the common room her plan is to stalk off to her dorm and get in bed as quick as possible. She’s gone through a whirlwind of emotions over the past few hours and all she wants to do is fall asleep, so she doesn’t have to feel any of them. All of that changes however, since when Y/N finally steps into the common room there is music blaring and people are everywhere.

Y/N makes eye contact with Adrian across the crowd and he clumsily waves her over. She slowly makes her way through the crowd. The air is heavy and hot from all of the people and it smells of firewhiskey. When she finally reaches Adrian, he stumbles over his own feet as he pulls her closer and she notices Marcus is seated on the couch with Daphne sprawled out across his lap; all of her friends are clearly very, very drunk.

“Y/N! You made it!” Daphne yells happily when she notices Y/N’s arrival. She wobbles as she gets out of Marcus’ lap and practically falls into Y/N, giving her a tight hug.

“Someone’s having a good time,” Y/N says with a laugh. Drunk Daphne is one of Y/N’s favorite things, and it’s rare that she gets to see it. Daphne is always prim and proper. She never has a hair out of place and she rarely lets herself goof off with her friends; she’s always their voice of reason. So, when she lets loose, she really goes for it, and it always leaves Y/N in hysterics.

“Where’ve you been? Party started ages ago,” Marcus says slowly, his words slurring together. He grabs Daphne’s hands and tries to pull her into his lap, but they’re both so drunk that they end up falling over, and Daphne somehow ends up on the ground with Marcus on top of her.

Y/N and Adrian burst out in laughter, with Adrian leaning on Y/N for support. His drink sloshes in his hand, and Y/N takes it from him to avoid it spilling everywhere. She eyes his glass warily, trying to decide if she wants to join her friends in drunk land. Her plan had been to sleep away her emotions but drinking them away will work just as well.

“I guess I have some catching up to do then.” Y/N downs the entire glass in one go, her warm bed long forgotten.

A few hours and far too many glasses of Firewhiskey later the party has died down and Y/N is slumped over in the corner of the common room, cradled in a large pile of pillows that Adrian had assembled for her. Daphne and Marcus had disappeared several minutes ago, probably to make out somewhere and once they had Adrian moved from the nearby couch to join Y/N. He’s laying on his back, head in Y/N’s lap as he listens to her complain about George Weasley.

“He’s just so annoying,” she drawls, her words coming out fairly jumbled. Y/N has said the same sentence at least five times in the past 10 minutes, but she’s too drunk to remember or care. She’s been rambling on about George and every mildly annoying this he’s done since the moment they’ve met and she’s having a hard time remembering what she’s already mentioned. “And his face, don’t even get me started on his face.”

When Adrian groans she smacks him on the forehead. “Can’t you talk about something else,” he murmurs. “Anything else, please.”

Y/N smacks him on the forehead again before starting to run her fingers through his hair. It’s his only weakness and she’s hoping it’ll keep him quiet. “There is nothing else to talk about,” she says, her tone condescending. “It’s empty up here, no thoughts,” she giggles, hitting herself lightly in the head with her free hand. “No thoughts, just George Weasley and his face. His pretty, pretty face. And oh god his lips. They look so damn soft. D’you think their soft?”

Adrian hums, not really paying attention to the words coming out of Y/N’s mouth. She’d started to lightly scratch his scalp as she talked, and any ability he had to comprehend the English language disappeared. “Yeah sure, whatever.”

Y/N sighs dreamily, thinking about what it would be like to kiss George. “Bet he’s really good at it,” she muses. “And his hands,” she adds a moment later, practically moaning. “They’re so big and strong. He’s got good fingers too. Bet he knows how to use them.” Y/N rubs her thighs together involuntarily as she feels herself starting to get turned on. Y/N’s eyes start to close as the copious amount of alcohol she drank starts to catch up with her. “You wanna know something funny? I don’t hate George Weasley anymore.”

“Is that so?” Adrian mumbles, starting to drift off as well.

“Mhm,” she hums. “I’m pretty sure I’m in love with him.”

The next morning Y/N is awake far earlier than she’d like to be. Adrian’s elbow was digging into her back, and she tried to ignore it for as long as possible, but eventually she just gave up and pulled herself off of the floor.

Her head is pounding, she feels groggy and she desperately wants to crawl into her bed. But her stomach grumbles loudly and so instead of dragging her body down the staircase that would lead to her dorm, she drags herself towards the portrait hole, still in the clothes she had on yesterday.

When Y/N finally makes it to the Great Hall she practically crawls over to the Slytherin table and plops down in the first open seat. Thankfully it’s still early, so not many people are around and it’s fairly quiet. She starts to grab random food, not really caring what it is. She’s cursing herself for challenging Adrian to a drinking contest as she goes to grab the pitcher of orange juice, but a large hand beats her to it.

“George?” she asks in surprise when she looks up.

He doesn’t say anything as he fills her goblet up for her. He takes a seat across from her and fills his own goblet before he starts to pile eggs on his plate. “Yes?” he answers casually, as if he eats breakfast with Y/N every morning.

“What are you doing here?” Y/N watches George as he begins to eat, her eyes searching his face for some kind of hint of what he’s up to. George shrugs as a light laugh tumbles from his mouth.

“Eating breakfast?” he asks, gesturing to his plate like it’s obvious. “What does it look like I’m doing?”

Y/N rolls her eyes playfully, watching as he grabs an apple. She watches as his fingers wrap around it and she practically drools. A tingle runs down her spine as she imagines his fingers wrapping around something else.

“Obviously I can see that you’re eating,” she says a moment later when her thoughts become PG. “I meant what are you doing sitting here. With me. At the Slytherin table.”

George smirks at her. “Why? Do I make you nervous?” His lips wrap around the apple as he takes a bite, and Y/N has to take a bite of her muffin to stop herself from moaning right there in the middle of the Great Hall.

George’s hair is ruffled from sleep, and he looks cozy in the homemade jumper he’s wearing. His eyes are soft, and his lips look even softer. Y/N is dreaming about what it would feel like to lean across the table and kiss him, when she realizes that he asked her a question.

“Not at all,” she says, her voice shaking. “It just isn’t like you, that’s all. Besides last night when you left it seemed like you were angry at me,” she trails off, her voice soft. She looks down at her plate to avoid his gaze.

“I’m sorry about that, Y/N,” George admits sheepishly. Y/N’s skin tingles when he nudges her leg with his foot under the table. She looks up to meet his gaze, instantly returning his warm smile. “It’s not your fault Umbridge is a toad.”

Y/N laughs, completely entranced by George. “I should have said something. Made up an excuse for you.” She worries her bottom lip between her teeth for a moment. “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t worry about it,” he says, waving away her apology. They both just look at each other, the food on their plates long forgotten. Y/N lets her gaze wander to George’s lips again as she thinks about kissing him. She starts to involuntarily inch closer and to her surprise, George starts doing the same thing.

“Uh, Y/N?”

Y/N and George jump apart, startled by the sudden intrusion. Y/N looks over to see Astoria standing next to her, clearly surprised by what she had just witnessed. Y/N feels her cheeks heating up, and she fidgets in her seat.

“Hey, Astoria. What’s up?” Y/N asks, trying to sound casual, like her best friend’s little sister didn’t just catch her about to kiss George in the middle of the Great Hall.

“Daphne is asking for you. She’s throwing up in the dorm bathroom.”

Y/N rolls her eyes with a huff. “Of course, she is, poor girl can’t handle her alcohol.” She stands suddenly, nodding awkwardly at George. “Weasley,” she says curtly. She gives a wayward glance to Astoria before she heads for the exit, trying to walk as quickly as possible without looking like she’s running away.

“And you don’t remember anything?” Y/N questions Adrian as they head up to breakfast on Monday morning. After she fled the Great Hall yesterday morning she’d spent the rest of the day with Daphne going between the bathroom in their dorm and her bed, with Astoria sneaking in food for them. As she sat holding Daphne’s hair back Y/N had a chance to replay the events of Saturday night, and all of the things she had said to Adrian about George became clear to her. She was panicking all night, hoping that he didn’t remember any of what she had said.

Adrian nods. “Not a thing. Last thing I remember is you challenging me to a drinking contest. Everything after that is completely blank. Probably due to the 10 shots we took,” he says with a laugh. “I was so confused when I woke up in the common room.”

Y/N breathes a sigh of relief. She’s barely come to terms with the fact that George Weasley is no longer her mortal enemy, but someone she truly cares deeply for, so she is definitely not ready to share that with her friends.

“Why do you care so much? You confess your love for me or something?” Adrian asks as they enter the Great Hall.

Y/N lets her eyes scan the Gryffindor table, a pink blush forming on her cheeks when she spots George. He looks prim and proper in his school robes and his hair is neat. She bites her lip, imagining what it would be like to fuss up his hair with her hands with their bodies pressed together so tightly that their uniforms wrinkled. When George suddenly makes eye contact with her she looks away, bringing her attention back to Adrian.

“Nothing like that,” she insists, shoving him playfully. “I was just rambling on and on. I sounded like an idiot, most of it didn’t even make sense.”

“What didn’t make sense?” Daphne asks as Y/N and Adrian sit across from her and Marcus.

“The things I rambled on about in Adrian’s ear on Saturday after you two disappeared,” Y/N says with a laugh. She reaches for the orange juice, a small smile appearing on her lips as it reminds her of George.

“Aw you were rambley drunk? How cute. I’m sad I missed it,” Marcus teases.

Y/N throws a grape at him. “If you weren’t so busy sucking face with Daphne, you could have witnessed it.” Marcus and Daphne both blush at that, causing Adrian and Y/N to laugh. “I don’t know why you’re laughing, Pucey. You were cuddly drunk. I ran my hand through your hair, and you were practically mewling.”

Adrian blushes and bats at Y/N’s hand as she pinches his cheek. “Thank god I don’t remember that then.”

Unlike last week, Y/N spends most of her time on Monday and Tuesday trying to get close to George. She heads to meals a tad earlier than her friends, hoping that he’ll join her briefly. She gets to class early, hoping that he may arrive on his own and they can talk. But every time she tries she either doesn’t happen to run into him or he’s too busy messing around with Fred to notice her presence.

“Oof. Sorry,” Y/N grunts as she runs into someone. One of the Ravenclaw Prefects is sick, so Y/N volunteered to spend most of her Tuesday night patrolling the halls of the castle. Patrolling was one of her favorite duties as a Prefect, since it gave her time to just be by herself and think. She had let her mind wander to George, and she was in the middle of quite the raunchy daydream.

“What are you doing? Trying to mow me down?” the person asks with a chuckle.

“George, hey,” she greets airily. Y/N takes a step back so she can look up at him, a dopey smile on her face. “What are you doing out here? Kinda late, innit?”

“Maybe I’m here to see you,” he responds, causing Y/N to look away and blush. “I was serving my detention with Umbridge,” he reminds her, gesturing towards the corridor he had just come down.

She glances at her watch before looking back to him. “And she just let you out now? What did she have you do, polish all those weird cat plates?”

George chuckles. “Writing lines, actually.”

“Must have been enough to fill a book with how late it is,” she jokes as they start to walk together. George fidgets beside her, and she gives him a look. “You alright?”

George hums and absentmindedly brings a hand up to run through his hair. Y/N’s eyes widen when she notices the back of his hand is bleeding, and she grabs it before he has a chance to hide it. “It’s not as bad as it looks,” he mumbles, trying to pull his hand away.

Y/N tightens her grip, too focused on his injury to think about how perfect his hand feels in hers. “What is this, George? How did this happen?”

George sighs. “Umbridge had me use her special quill to write my lines.”

Y/N ghosts her finger over the wound, giving George an apologetic look when he winces. As she examines the wound she can make out what is it, the wound in his hand spells out ‘I must not break the rules’ in his messy handwriting. A sudden wave of rage washes over Y/N and she releases George’s hand so she can stomp towards Umbridge’s office.

“Y/N what are you doing?” George asks as he follows, though he’s pretty sure he knows that answer.

“I’m going to go give that toad a piece of my mind. That’s how she punishes people. Torture? That’s mental.”

George catches up to her quickly, and he wraps his fingers around her wrist, pulling her into his chest. He wraps his arms around her shoulders, holding her tightly against him. She breathes in his scent, wanting to just melt into his embrace. But she resists the urge and struggles against it, desperately trying to get out.

“Let me go, George,” she grumbles, wiggling in his grip.

“Absolutely not, Y/N. What good is yelling at her going to do? All that’s going to do is get you in detention as well and I’m not going to let you do that to yourself.”

Y/N wiggles against his grip for a few more moments before she gives up, her anger deflating. She relaxes in George’s arms and buries her face in his chest. She feels lightheaded as she takes slow, deep breaths, enjoying being this close to George. They stand like that for a few minutes, just enjoying being in each other’s presence, only breaking apart when they hear the door to Umbridge’s office open.

“Shit,” George whispers. He releases Y/N from his grip so he can grab her hand, intertwining their fingers. “Quick, follow me.” George leads them down the hallway and through a few different corridors before he stops in front of a tapestry.

“What are you doing?” she asks as the sound of footsteps echoes through the empty space.

George shushes her, and Y/N watches in amazement as he taps his wand to the tapestry, and it swings to the side, revealing a hole in the wall.

“Woah, this is so cool,” she comments as George pulls her in behind him. The tapestry immediately closes behind them, and George waves his wand so the torches that line the walls light up. “How do you know about this place?”

George shrugs, leaning up against the wall. “Fred and I have explored the entire castle. There isn’t a secret passageway or hidden corridor that we haven’t found.”

They stand there in silence while Y/N looks around the small passageway. She can feel George’s eyes on her and she’s doing everything she can to not return his gaze. Her body feels like it’s on fire, the feeling of George’s grip on her shoulders still fresh in her mind.

“You know if you want to spend time alone with me all you have to do is ask,” she teases a moment later, finally looking at George. She’s leaning on the wall opposite him, her bottom lip caught between her teeth. She starts to fiddle with a stray string on the bottom hem of her skirt, needing to keep her hands busy to avoid wrapping them around George’s tie to pull him close. “You don’t have to keep pulling me into dark rooms.”

George looks Y/N up and down, a smirk forming on his face. “Is that so? After you practically ran away from me at breakfast on Sunday I didn’t think you’d want to be alone with me.” He sounds confident, but Y/N can tell that there’s an underlying tinge of insecurity in his voice.

Y/N frowns and pushes away from the wall so she can take a small step towards him. “I tried to catch you alone all day yesterday and today,” she says softly. “But every time I tried you were with your stupid brother.”

“Well every time I tried to catch you alone you were with your stupid friends,” he says with a chuckle, copying her frustrated tone. George takes a small step towards her, so there’s only a few feet between them.

“I’m sorry, by the way. For running away from you the other day. Astoria startled me and I panicked,” she pauses, taking another small step forward. They’re standing so close that Y/N can smell him, and her brain goes fuzzy. “I should have stayed,” she admits quietly.

George licks his lips as he takes a final small step forward. They’re now only a few centimeters apart, and he grips Y/N’s hip softly. “What would have happened?” His eyes flick down to Y/N’s lips before meeting hers again. “If you had stayed, what would have happened?”

Y/N can feel her heart pounding in her chest, and her face is warm. “I. I would have.”

But she doesn’t get to finish her sentence. George leans down and presses their lips together, kissing her sweetly as his other hand comes up to rest on her neck. Y/N feels lightheaded as her lips start to move with George’s, her arms winding around his neck. George backs them up as he deepens the kiss, pressing Y/N up against the wall. She moans as her back hits the hard stone, allowing George to lick into her mouth.

“I would have done that,” she finishes once George pulls away, her breathing heavy.

George chuckles before kissing her again briefly. “You sound so fucking hot when you moan,” he teases, kissing her again as her cheeks flush pink.

Y/N returns his kiss eagerly, letting her fingers tangle in the hair at the base of his neck as both his hands come to rest on her hips. Her brain is in overdrive, trying to process everything that’s happening. She wants to commit it all to memory, in case this is the only time it happens. She’s thinking about how good of a kisser he is, and how perfectly their mouths fit together when George pulls away.

“Bet you would sound even hotter moaning my name,” he whispers in her ear, before he starts to trail kisses down Y/N’s neck.

A soft whine leaves Y/N’s lips as she tilts her head back, giving George more room to kiss. She tugs his hair and the groan he lets out against her neck goes right to her core and arousal starts to blossom in her stomach. His grip on her hips tightens as he begins to suck a mark into her neck. “George,” she moans, her eyes fluttering closed.

Y/N can feel George smirk into her neck before he pulls away and reconnects their lips. He pushes their bodies together tighter, shoving her legs apart with one of his own. She instinctively grinds down against it to get relief from her aching pussy, causing both of them to moan lowly.

“Holy fuck, Y/N,” George growls as he breaks their kiss. He looks over her as she continues to grind against his thigh, in awe of how beautiful she is. Her face is flushed red, her lips are swollen from his kisses and breathy moans are falling from her mouth as her hips move back and forth.

Y/N tugs her bottom lip between her teeth to try and contain the noises that are creeping up her throat as she works towards her climax. Her hips move sloppily, giving her clit the perfect amount of friction against George’s muscular thigh. “Fuck,” she breathes and opens her eyes so she can gaze into his, a moan falling from her lips when she sees how dark his eyes are.

George kisses her for a brief moment, his cock starting to harden in his trousers. He craves the feeling of her lips, but the noises coming from her mouth are too intoxicating to cut off. “You look so pretty, darling, getting yourself off on my thigh.”

George’s words only turn Y/N on more and she starts to move her hips faster, desperate for her release. “George,” she moans, tugging on his hair again. “Please, please, George,” she begs.

George presses kisses to Y/N’s jaw as his grip on her hips tightens. He pulls her down harder against his thigh and smirks when she whines loudly. “What do you want darling? Hm?”

“I’m so close,” she gasps. “Please, George. Can I,” her words turn into a moan as George forces her down harder against this thigh again. Y/N can feel her climax approaching and her body feels like it’s on fire. “Please, let me come, George. Please,” she begs breathily.

George’s cock twitches in his trousers and he groans as he realizes what Y/N is begging him for. Permission. “Go on darling, come for me.”

George’s voice is husky, and as soon as the words leave his mouth Y/N’s hips stutter as she reaches her climax, George’s name falling from her mouth. She tugs his hair lightly as she comes, pleasure washing over her like a wave. George rubs her hips and presses open mouthed kisses to her jaw and neck as her hips start to slow down.

“Oh my god,” Y/N pants, resting her forehead against George’s shoulder. Her legs feel like jelly and a moan falls from her mouth when she shifts on George’s thigh and her sensitive clit rubs against her panties.

George laughs lightly and brings a hand up to stroke Y/N’s hair. “That was so fucking hot,” he murmurs, pressing a kiss to her temple. He removes his leg from between hers but keeps a tight grip on her hip to make sure she’s steady. “Like really fucking hot, Y/N. Holy shit.”

Y/N buries her face in George’s neck, pressing a few light kisses to his skin. “No, it was embarrassing,” she mumbles. She’d never felt the need to ask for permission to come with any of the other people she’d been intimate with, but there was something about George. Y/N felt comfortable with him, she felt safe enough to let her walls down; to be completely vulnerable to him.

“Hey, look at me,” he says softly. George waits for Y/N to pick her head up and look up at him before he continues. “You will never have anything to be embarrassed about with me. Ever.”

Instead of responding, Y/N kisses him desperately and reaches down to palm his hardening erection through his trousers. George groans into the kiss, his hips automatically rolling to meet her movements. Her lips start to kiss across his jaw and down George’s neck, nibbling lightly.

Y/N pauses her kissing so she can lean up and whisper into George’s ear. “Your turn,” she teases. George curses softly as she removes her hand from his crotch, and she places a quick kiss on his lips before she pushes him away slightly. Y/N slowly sinks down to her knees and starts to work at the button of George’s trousers.

“God you are gorgeous,” he says dreamily as he tangles his fingers in her hair.

Y/N can feel the blush creeping up her face as she undoes George’s trousers. She looks up at him as she pulls his trousers and boxers down together just enough to free his cock. Y/N slowly wraps her hand around the base of his cock, a smirk forming on her face when he groans.

George’s grip on her hair tightens as Y/N begins to slowly stroke him. “Merlin that feels good,” George moans, causing Y/N to increase her pace.

She leans forward and takes him into her mouth, her hand continuing to stroke what she can’t fit in her mouth. George is quite well endowed, and Y/N rubs her thighs together as she starts to bob her head, imaging what he’d feel like inside her.

“Such a good girl. Sucking my cock so well,” George praises. His breathing starts to get heavier as Y/N’s tongue starts to swirl around his sensitive head and when she looks up at him he has to look away to avoid coming right then and there. Y/N looks absolutely sinful with her lips wrapped around his cock, and George is sure that image will be imprinted in his brain forever.

George’s grunts echo throughout the passageway as Y/N starts to move faster, wanting George to fill her mouth with his release. She takes him down even further, gagging slightly when the tip of his cock hits the back of her throat. George uses the grip he has on Y/N’s hair to help guide her head, his hips starting to slowly meet her movement.

Y/N hums in approval and pulls her head off of his cock for a moment to catch her breath. She strokes him with her hand for a moment, her thumb circling his sensitive head. “Fuck my mouth George, please,” she begs, before swallowing him down again.

“Such a dirty girl aren’t you Y/N?” he teases as he wraps his hand in her hair, gripping it tightly. “Such a slut for my cock already, hm?” He lets out a groan as he starts to move her head on his cock, his hips meeting each stroke. “Fuck, darling. Your mouth feels amazing,” he moans, starting to fuck her mouth faster. “Good girl,” he praises as she gags around him.

Y/N can’t help but slip her hand under her skirt and into her panties, letting her index and middle finger toy with her clit. George’s cock is heavy against her tongue and his dirty words are sending shivers down her spine and into her core. She’s still sensitive from her previous orgasm, and she moans around George’s cock as drool drips down her chin. She starts to work her clit faster, her second orgasm quickly approaching.

“Getting close, darling,” he grunts. “Gonna shoot my load right into your pretty little mouth.” George watches as Y/N squirms, a wicked grin forming on his mouth. “Are you touching yourself darling?” A shiver runs down his spine and he slams his cock into the back of her throat harder when she hums around him. “Such a dirty little girl you are, Y/N.” His tone is patronizing, and it only turns Y/N on more. “Love having my cock in your mouth that much, hm?”

Y/N whines around his cock, her hips moving in time with her finger’s movements on her clit. She brings her free hand up under her shirt and bra so she can massage her breast, her fingers pinching her nipple. Her climax is building rapidly, and Y/N looks up at George her eyes full of arousal and desperation.

George bites his lip as he looks down at Y/N, knowing exactly what she needs. His strokes become shallow as his own orgasm approaches, a low moan falling from his lips. “Go on, darling. Be a good girl and come for me.”

Y/N’s whole-body shakes as she comes, her second orgasm even stronger than the first. Her lips clamp down around George’ cock even tighter, bringing him to his climax as well. He pulls her hair as he empties himself into Y/N’s mouth, her name spilling from his mouth in hard pants. She continues to toy with her clit lightly as aftershocks of pleasure continue to roll through her body.

George loosens his grip on her hair as he slowly pulls out, his mouth running dry as saliva and some of his cum dribble down Y/N’s chin. He watches as she swallows his release, his cock twitching at the sight. He tucks his cock back into his trousers, wincing as the head brushes up against the fabric. Y/N looks up at him as she wipes the drool from her chin, looking far too innocent after what just happened. Her lips are red and swollen, almost begging for him to kiss her.

He releases her hair and helps Y/N to her feet. His arms wrap around her waist and he brings their lips together. They kiss slowly and messily, both of them too tired to care. George licks into her mouth, not caring that he can taste himself on her tongue. They stand there kissing for a few minutes, only breaking apart when the need for air becomes too much.

“You think the coast is clear?” Y/N asks with a giggle, her voice hoarse.

George chuckles and presses a kiss to her forehead. “I certainly hope so, because I’m absolutely knackered and if I have to spend another minute in here with you after what just happened I’m not going to be able to control myself.”

Wednesday morning arrives far too quickly for Y/N’s liking. She had fallen asleep as soon as her head hit the pillow, but when Daphne starts to shake her awake it feels like she hadn’t even slept at all.

“Five more minutes, mum, “ she groans. Her throat feels raw and Y/N can’t help but blush as the memories of last night run through her mind. She had wanted to confess everything to George as they snuck out of the passageway, but she couldn’t bring herself to do it. As they stepped out into the empty hallway the haze of sexual tension around them broke, and when George headed off back to his dorm with nothing more than a wink and a kiss on the cheek Y/N’s stomach sank.

Y/N had felt nothing but pure joy after her and George’s activities and her heart felt as if it would beat out of her chest. She knew that she was in love with him, and after he had been so tender with her she was sure that he returned her feelings. But after he left her behind so quickly, she couldn’t help but think it had all been in her head.

“Five more minutes will turn to 10, which will turn into you missing breakfast. And you know how you get when you’re hungry, so get your ass out of bed,” Daphne scolds lightly.

Y/N groans but rolls out of bed, her heart heavy and her knees aching.

“What do you think they’re talking about?” Daphne whispers to Y/N as they enter the Great Hall, gesturing towards Fred and George.

Y/N allows herself to look quickly, her heart rate increasing as her eyes pass over George. Memories of last night swim to the surface, and she swallows hard, willing them away. The twins have their heads together and they’re talking feverishly, clearly up to something. “Dunno really,” she answers, tearing her gaze away. “Probably planning their next prank or something.” Y/N and Daphne sit down with Adrian and Marcus and she grabs some toast, not really feeling up to eating.

“So, what are you gonna do?” Daphne asks as they start to eat.

Y/N gives her a look. “What am I gonna do about what?”

Daphne rolls her eyes. “Come one, it’s been what, two weeks since the twins have done something to you? They’ve gotta be over there cooking up some grand scheme against you.”

Y/N goes to respond, but she suddenly feels sick as George’s actions over the past few days start to make sense. He wasn’t in love with her, he was trying to embarrass her? Use her? Get information on her for him and Fred to use against her? She wasn’t exactly sure, but her heart sinks into her stomach. Whatever it was it couldn’t be good.

“I think I’m gonna head to Potions early,” she says suddenly, standing up. Adrian, Marcus and Daphne give her a look.

“You haven’t even eaten anything,” Adrian says, trying to pull her back down.

She bats his hand away and gathers her bag. “I’m not really that hungry. I’ll see you guys later.”

Without another word she’s heading out of the Great Hall, her friends and George all casting her back worried glances.

Y/N spends all day ignoring George despite his efforts to get her to pay attention to him. He spends all of Potions throwing rolled up pieces of parchment at her back, he tries to pull faces at her all during lunch and he spends most of charms slipping her notes. It had taken all of her willpower not to let him break her down. She’s so desperately in love with him that she’s almost willing to let him break her heart just so she can be close to him again.

“Finally, I’ve been looking for you all evening.”

Y/N doesn’t look up from her Herbology assignment as George takes a seat across from her. Her friends had been giving her worried glances all day, so after a quick dinner she tucked herself away in a corner of the library to avoid the confrontation she’s sure she’d get in the common room. She had figured she’d be safe from George as well, since Y/N is sure she’s never seen him, or Fred enter the library in the seven years they’ve been at school.

“What’s going on with you?” George asks softly when she doesn’t say anything. He’d been looking forward to seeing Y/N in the morning, and after her weird behavior at breakfast he had tried everything to get her attention.

Y/N glances at George quickly before she turns back to her assignment. “I could say the same to you,” she says coldly. When George doesn’t say anything Y/N sighs and puts her quill down, finally looking at George fully. “What were you and Fred talking about this morning? During breakfast.”

George taps his fingers against the table, his eyes starting deeply into Y/N’s. “He was asking me why I got back from my detention so late last night.” His cheeks are flushed pink and Y/N bites her lip to keep from smiling.

“What did you tell him? Did you tell him how easy I was? How desperate I was for you? How I touched myself? That I asked you for permission to finish?” she sneers, suddenly filled with rage.

George’s jaw practically drops to the table, his eyes widening in shock. “What? Why would I say any of that to him?” George asks, watching as Y/N starts to gather up her things.

“Because last night was just some big joke to you, wasn’t it?” she asks, as if the answer is obvious. “You don’t have feelings for me, you were just trying to get me into bed so you could have blackmail material or something. And I fell for it. Because I’m a big dumb idiot who is too in love to realize when she’s being played.”

Before George can even process what Y/N has just said she’s gone, tears streaming down her face and her heart broken in her chest.

“What’s wrong Y/N?” Daphne asks, taking a seat on the edge of her bed.

She isn’t completely surprised that Daphne had come to find her. When Y/N returned from the library, she was full on crying. She had ignored her friend’s attempts to talk to her and stormed right to her dorm room so she could crawl into her bed and sob. Daphne starts to stroke her hair, and Y/N wipes away some of her tears.

“I’m in love with George Weasley,” Y/N mumbles into her pillow.

Daphne’s hand pauses. “Come again?”

“I’m in love with George Weasley,” Y/N huffs, turning over so she’s facing Daphne. Her whole-body tenses, waiting for Daphne to laugh or make some kind of snide comment. But it doesn’t happen. Instead Daphne starts to stroke her hair again as she wipes away some of her tears.

“Honestly that’d make me cry as well,” she says with a laugh, trying to get Y/N to smile. When it works and Y/N cracks a small smile Daphne continues. “So, what happened? Did he say something rude? Because if he did I swear to you I’ll have Adrian and Marcus break into Gryffindor tower and beat him up.”

Y/N can’t help but let out a quiet laugh. She sits up in bed, wiping away the last few tears. “I ran into him last night when I was doing my rounds. And Umbridge almost caught us so we ran and hid in this weird secret passageway and um,” she pauses, swallowing thickly. “We kissed. And fooled around a little. Or a lot.”

“And that’s why you’re crying? Was it bad? Did you fake your orgasm?” Daphne teases.

Y/N rolls her eyes as a blush starts to form on her cheeks. “No, that’s not it. It was quite enjoyable I’ll have you know,” she says playfully, shoving Daphne’s shoulder lightly. “It was what happened afterward.”

“He said something stupid, didn’t he? My offer still stands, I will have Adrian and Marcus go beat him up,” Daphne says her tone serious.

“He didn’t really say anything,” Y/N explains, choosing to ignore Daphne’s threats for now. “But you said it yourself this morning at breakfast. He was talking with Fred, probably planning some prank on me.” Y/N pauses to swallow the lump in her throat and blink away the tears that threaten to spill down her cheeks. “It was all probably just some prank or set up or blackmail or something. I mean why would he wanna be with me,” she says lamely, looking down at her hands.

Daphne scoffs and puts her finger under Y/N’s chin, forcing her to return her gaze. “If George Weasley doesn’t want to be with you then he is a big fat idiot. Y/N you are amazing. And beautiful and smart and way too nice for your own good. You may have questionable taste in men, but I’ve been snogging Marcus since third year so I’m not really one to judge.”

Y/N laughs and pulls Daphne into a hug. Her heart still aches for George, but she feels a tiny bit better knowing that she has Daphne on her side.

Despite the fact that Y/N has been ignoring George all day, she finds herself heading to the Room of Requirement on Wednesday evening for a DA meeting. There are nervous butterflies in her stomach as she approaches but she doesn’t turn back. The DA is one of the only good things she’s had going on this year, and she’ll be damned if she lets George Weasley ruin that for her. Y/N had felt his eyes on her all day, and she hates to admit that it made her feel lightheaded.

She stops outside of the room of requirement to collect herself. Y/N takes a few deep breaths, trying to clear the thoughts of George from her mind. She’s semi-successful and she holds her head high as she throws the door open and steps inside.

“What the fuck?” she says, her eyes wandering around the room as the door shuts behind her. Y/N had certainly not been expecting the scene around her when she walked in. The room is dimly lit, with most of the lighting coming from candles that are floating around the room. There’s no furniture or practice dummies in sight, and the only other person in the room is George. He’s standing smack in the middle of the room watching her, a small smile on his face.

“I couldn’t think of any other way to get you alone,” he says after a moment, reaching a hand out towards Y/N. “So, I had Hermione send an alert out to your Galleon and hoped that you would show up.”

Y/N walks further into the room cautiously, still unsure as to what exactly is going on. She stands a few feet away from George, resisting the urge to take his hand and fall into his chest. “Okay but why?.” She pauses, her eyes scanning the room again. “If this is some kind of elaborate set up and Fred is about to jump out of somewhere I swear to Merlin George I will kill you.”

George chuckles and shakes his head, taking a step towards Y/N. When she doesn’t flinch, he takes another one. “I promise you; Y/N. Fred is nowhere near here.” He bites his lip, looking at Y/N closely. “This is just me, desperately trying to fix whatever mess I got us into.” When she doesn’t say anything George continues, needing to fill the awkward silence of the room. “Tuesday night was incredible. Best night of my life, hands down. I thought, I thought things would be different with us, afterwards. But then you didn’t even look at me all day yesterday and last night in the library that stuff you said,” he cuts himself off, running a hand through his hair in frustration. “I clearly did something wrong, but I’ve spent the past 24 hours thinking about everything I did, and I can’t seem to figure it out.”

“You didn’t say anything,” she says quietly after she lets George’s words soak in. When George raises his eyebrow in confusion she sighs. “On Tuesday, after everything that happened,” she clears her throat, trying to will the blush on her cheeks away. “When we were leaving you didn’t say anything. You just kind of left. I thought that it was just a one-time thing, that it didn’t mean the same to you as it did to me,” she admits quietly.

Y/N lets her eyes wander around the room, needing to look anywhere except for George’s face. Y/N likes to keep walls up around herself. She makes exceptions for her friends and her parents, the people she loves, but she keeps them up around others. She doesn’t like to show weakness, she doesn’t want to give people the opportunity to hurt her. On Tuesday Y/N had let all of those walls crumble to the ground the second George had kissed her and it felt incredible. She felt like she could truly be herself around him, and as much as she wishes she could build those walls up around her again it’s too late. Y/N has no choice but to stand here in this room and let George in.

“And then I just got all in my head,” she continues a moment later, finally letting herself look at George. Her heart is fluttering, and she can’t help but notice how good he looks. “When I went to breakfast that morning and you were whispering with Fred it looked like you guys were plotting something, like a prank or something. And it made me think that Tuesday was just some stupid prank. That you were gonna use the things I said against me, to embarrass me or something,” she mutters.

“Darling,” George starts, taking the last few steps to close the distance between them. He cups her cheek with one hand while the other reaches for one of hers. Y/N lets him grab her hand, and he intertwines their fingers. “I should have said something that night. There was so many things I wanted to say. But I didn’t want to overwhelm you. After that night we spent in detention I started to feel differently towards you. I knew you felt something too, but I wasn’t sure if you had realized it yet or not. So, when we left the passageway that night I wanted to give you time, to process everything.”

“I feel like such an idiot,” Y/N admits with a small smile. “I should have just said something instead of letting myself overthink it. I don’t like letting people in. But for some reason when I’m around you I can’t help but let you in. That night in detention I told you things not even Daphne knows. And then Tuesday, some of the things I said, I did,” she cuts herself off, a shiver running down her spine. “I’ve never let anyone see that side of me before and yet a few kisses from you had me blubbering like an idiot.”

“Blubbering like a wicked sexy idiot, darling,” George teases with a chuckle. He leans down and kisses her briefly. “I’m sorry, for not being clearer with my intentions.”

Y/N rolls her eyes, but there’s a warm smile on her face. “And what are those intentions?”

Her eyes flutter closed as George kisses her deeply, both of his hands landing on her bum, giving it a tight squeeze. She moans into the kiss and lets George’s tongue in to explore her mouth. She wraps her arms around George’s neck and pulls him flush to her body. George pulls away suddenly, with Y/N trying to chase his mouth.

George chuckles when she pouts at him. “To answer your question, darling. First, I’m going to fuck you into the mattress over there like the dirty little girl you are.” George pauses, pressing a kiss to Y/N’s lips as a shiver runs down her spine. “And then I’m going to hold you close and whisper how much I love you into your ear.”

Y/N pulls George’s face down and presses their lips together hotly, kissing him desperately. She jumps up, her legs wrapping around his waist and his hands gripping her bum tightly. George carries her over to the bed that had appeared at some point in the past few minutes and throws her down on it. He loosens his tie and throws it off over his head and starts to work on the buttons of his shirt. Y/N watches his fingers move, practically drooling as his pale chest becomes more and more exposed to her.

“What are you waiting for? Permission,” George teases, his voice gravelly and his eyes dark. “Get naked,” he demands a moment later when she still doesn’t move. “Let me see all of you.”

George’s voice causes goosebumps to appear all over Y/N’s body and her core starts to ache. She can already feel herself getting wet, and the way George is looking at her as she rids herself of her clothes is only making it worse.

In a matter of moments, they’re both naked, and Y/N can feel her skin flushing under George’s gaze. He’s standing by the edge of the bed, slowly stroking himself as his eyes run over her naked body. Her body is aching for his touch, and she squirms under his intense gaze. “Please, George,” she moans, one of her hands coming up to toy with her breasts.

In an instant George is on top of her, kissing her messily as his hands touch every inch of skin they can. He bats away the hand that’s palming her breast so he can take over, his fingers starting to toy with her sensitive nipple. Y/N moans into George’s mouth, arching her back to press herself up into him harder. George practically growls at her actions and his other hand grabs her left thigh, forcing her legs apart.

“What do you want, darling?” he asks hotly, his lips trailing kisses down her neck. “My fingers?” He releases her thigh and starts to ghost his fingers up her it towards her folds. “My mouth?” He latches onto her neck and starts to lightly suck, causing a sinful whine to leave her lips.

Y/N tangles her fingers in George’s hair, tugging lightly as she squirms under his touch. “Both, please,” she begs, her breath coming out in hard pants. George’s fingers have finally reached her core, and his index finger has started to slowly circle her clit.

“Both, hm? What a needy little girl you’re being, Y/N,” he chides, his mouth continuing to trail kisses down her neck and over her chest. “But how can I say no? Not when you’re being such a good girl and asking so nicely.”

Y/N moans. George’s thumb has started to rub soft circles on her clit while his mouth wraps around her breast, sucking her nipple lightly. When George had called her a good girl at the beginning of term it had filled her with rage, but now as he slowly pushes his index finger inside of her tight walls she thinks she could come just from him calling her that alone.

“Fuck, George,” she whines, clenching around his finger as he curls it inside of her. She can feel his smirk as he kisses down her stomach. Her hips start to move off of the bed as he starts to slowly fuck her with his finger. His free hand flies to her hip and pins it down against the bed.

“Don’t be so impatient, darling. I’m going to take my time with you,” he scolds. He pulls his finger out slowly, and when he pushes it back in another has joined it, causing Y/N to gasp. “You sound so pretty, darling. Such pretty noises,” he praises.

George moves down the bed as his lips ghost over her hip so he can position himself better for what’s about to happen. He stops his movements on her pussy suddenly, causing Y/N to whine at the loss. He grabs her thighs and pushes them farther apart, so she’s spread open for him. “Such a pretty pussy you have, darling,” he groans, his eyes gazing over her dripping folds. Y/N tries to shut her legs, but George’s grip tightens on her thighs, keeping them open. “Don’t be shy, darling,” he teases.

Y/N is writhing in George’s grasp, one hand is toying with her nipples while the other grips the bed sheets. “George, please,” she begs again, needing him to touch her. George chuckles and suddenly his mouth is on her, lightly sucking on her clit. “Oh fuck,” she shouts, her hand leaving her breast to tangle in George’s hair.

George’s tongue starts to tease Y/N’s clit, wrapping around the bud slowly before pulling away and coming to lightly flick at it. He wraps his arm around her left thigh as she begins to move her hips, forcing her back down against the bed. “Gonna need to get some rope to tie you up, keep you nice and open for me,” he murmurs before putting his mouth back on her aching core.

“Holy fuck, George,” Y/N moans as he suddenly plunges two fingers into her heat. She can’t help the sounds that are coming out of her mouth as George pleasures her, images of George tying her up floating in her mind. George hums in laughter as his fingers curl and brush up against Y/N’s sweet spot, causing her to moan again.

Y/N can feel her orgasm approaching, can feel the arousal building in her stomach. She wiggles her hips, trying to move away from George, and a squeal falls from her mouth when he pulls her even closer to his face. She grips his hair tightly and her toes curl as her orgasm approaches. Y/N yanks the sheets hard, her mouth opening and shutting unable to form a coherent thought due to George’s relentless pleasure.

“George please,” she sobs, her eyes screwing shut from the sheer amount of pleasure coursing through her body. Her legs are shaking as George licks at her core, his fingers hitting the spot inside her that drives her crazy with every thrust. “I need you. I need you to, George, please,” she begs. She’s teetering on the edge of her release, just needing that one final push that only George can provide.

“Need me to what, darling?” he asks coyly as he pulls his face away from her pussy. His thumb takes over the assault on her clit his tongue had been doing before, starting to rub it in hard circles.

“Please,” she begs again, tears starting to leak out the side of her eyes. Y/N has never been this turned on in her life. Her body is trembling, her need for release overwhelming every part of her.

George presses a few kisses to the hot skin on the inside of her thigh to hide his smile. Y/N looks absolutely ethereal as she wriggles in his grasp, begging him to let her come. Her hair is splayed out on the pillow behind her, and her neck looks like it’s begging to be bit. Her whole body is flushed, and a sheen of sweat has appeared over her skin.

“You are absolutely gorgeous, Y/N,” he compliments as he situates himself on top of her again. He leans on his forearm and presses their lips together briefly. “Such a good girl, darling. Go on be a good girl, come for me.”

George kisses her again as she comes, groaning as her walls tighten around his fingers. Y/N’s whole-body shakes as she comes, and George continues to slowly rub her clit as she comes down from her high. With one final curl of his fingers he removes them from her heat.

“You are a goddess,” he murmurs against her lips before he pulls away.

Y/N opens her eyes, smiling up at George. “And you’re a bloody fucking tease.”

George laughs and rolls onto his back, his arm winding around Y/N’s waist to pull her on top of him. Y/N giggles in delight, pressing their lips together in a heated kiss. She lets her hand trail along his chest as they kiss, pausing as she reaches his groin. “Now see if I really was a good girl,” she mocks her fingertips dancing on the skin just above the base of his cock. “I’d touch you but.” She sighs and brings her hand back up to rest on George’s chest. “I’m feeling kinda naughty.”

“Bold tactic for a girl who was just begging me to let her come a few seconds ago,” George responds playfully, leaning up to press their lips together again. Y/N squeals when George pulls her fully on top of him so she’s straddling his waist. “I know I said I was gonna fuck you into the mattress but,” he says with a sigh when he breaks their kiss. “I don’t know if naughty girls deserve my cock.”

Despite the fact that she had just come a few seconds ago, Y/N’s pussy is aching again. She pouts down at George, rolling her hips. A satisfied smirk appears on her face when he groans. “What if I promise to be a good girl?”

George rolls them over so she’s underneath him. “I think I can make an exception.” Y/N laughs as George kisses her and winds her legs around his waist. George lines himself up with her entrance, breaking their kiss so he can look at her. “Ready?” When Y/N nods George pushes his hips forward and slowly enters Y/N.

“Oh my god, George,” she gasps as her hands come up to grip his shoulders. George doesn’t stop until his hips are flush against Y/N’s bum.

“Fucking hell you’re tight, Y/N,” he groans, burying his face in her neck. He lets out another groan as Y/N’s walls clench around him.

“Fuck me George, please,” she demands, squeezing his shoulders.

George chuckles into her neck and pulls out of her halfway before he slams back in, starting to slowly fuck her. “Since you asked so nicely,” he teases, pressing an open mouth kiss to her jaw.

For a few minutes all the noise that can be heard is Y/N and George’s combined moans as well as skin slapping on skin. George grabs Y/N’s leg and throws it over his shoulder so he can fuck into her deeper and the head of his cock is now rubbing her sweet spot with every thrust.

“Oh fuck,” Y/N moans, scratching her nails down George’s back. “Feels so good, George. ‘M already close.”

“Fuck me too,” he growls, leaning down to whisper in her ear. “You feel so fucking good, darling.” He presses a few kisses into the skin below her ear. “Go on, darling. Come for me when you’re ready. Didn’t even need to touch your little clit, did I? Such a good girl, coming from just my cock.”

George’s words tip Y/N over the edge and she throws her head back, George’s name falling from her mouth. Her walls tighten and twitch around George, causing him to reach his climax as well. He empties himself inside of Y/N, his hips slowly rolling into her to help them both come down from their highs.

Once George’s cock has stopped twitching and Y/N’s breathing starts to slow down, George carefully pulls out of her and collapses on the bed next to her. George opens up his arm and Y/N rolls into his side, burying her face in the crook of his neck. She peppers soft kisses to the sweaty skin as George starts to rub her back.

“It’s not fair, you know,” George says as Y/N trails a few kisses up his neck and across his jaw.

Y/N pecks his lips softly. “What’s not fair?” she asks with a chuckle.

George pouts at her and she kisses him briefly again. “Every time we get intimate you get to come twice, and I only get to come once. That’s totally not fair.”

Y/N laughs and buries her face in George’s neck again. “Well maybe if you were a good boy I’d let you come more than once,” she teases.

George’s fingers dig into Y/N’s side as he holds her in place, tickling her mercilessly. Y/N shrieks with laughter, desperately trying to wiggle away from George’s grasp. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” she laughs, pressing a kiss to his shoulder. George tickles her for another moment before he stops, one of his hands resting on the small of Y/N’s back and the other grabs hers.

“I love you,” he whispers, pressing a kiss to the top of her head.

Y/N looks up at him and presses a kiss to the underside of his jaw. “I love you too.”

The next morning as Y/N drags George over to the Slytherin table for breakfast she can hear Ginny shouting at Ron.

“I told you, you absolute numpty! You owe me a Galleon!”

#George weasley #george weasley smut #George Weasley imagine #George Weasley fic #george weasley x reader #harry potter #harry potter fanfiction #george weasley x y/n #george weasley fanfic #George Weasley fanfiction #gw #golden

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acourtofsnakes · 3 years

Text

Let Me Show You - Bucky Barnes x F! Reader (smut)

Gif by @buckysbarnes

Summary: You and Bucky have been dating for a few months now, and the man has given you everything - literally. One night, Bucky encourages you to let go of your anxiety and let him show you just how sinful that mouth of his can truly be.

Warnings: 18+!!! Brief mention of drinking, Swearing, smut!!: Oral - f receiving, fingering, praise kink, arm kink, (Bucky kink?), unprotected PinV sex, fluff, encouragement

Word Count: 4k+ - I got carried away.

A/N: Aaahhhh, my first ever request from @kaylee-krystal I hope I did your idea justice and this is what you were hoping for. I added my own ideas for backstory and such, so I hope it’s okay 🙊thank you again, so, so much for requesting!!! I have reread this a couple times, but I’ve no doubt missed something somewhere, so apologies in advance.

Masterlist

Permanent Taglist: @greeneyedblondie44 @mamacitapascal @mypedrom @undiscovered-misunderstood

James Buchanan Barnes.

Now there was a topic you could talk about day and night.

And probably even in your sleep.

You’d been dating for a few months now, and everyday was better than the last, even it did sound cliché.

You’d met in a local Brooklyn bar, having frequented it now and then with your friends for relaxed nights out or after work drinks.

The first time you’d seen the soldier, he’d been sitting at the bar alone, brooding over a beer.

It had taken you a few moments, but you’d suddenly realised who it was.

Bucky Barnes, ex-Winter Soldier, Avenger and now often seen with Sam Wilson.

THE Bucky Barnes was sitting in your local.

And instantly he had taken your breath away.

A set of cheekbones that could cut glass with a jawline to match. Plush lips that looked irresistibly soft - and sinful.

A tangle of dark hair that was begging to have a pair of hands run through to mess it up.

You could see the broad line of his shoulders from where you were situated in the booth, and you went home that night imagining everything else about him.

The next time you saw him, it was about a week later. You were waiting for your friend to arrive and had gone up the bar to get drinks ordered.

And there he was, just like the last time.

Only now, you saw that he had a pair of gorgeous eyes, a blue like the Arctic Ocean and just as deep.

And they were settled on your face with a cheeky little smile, which only grew when you looked at him.

Moments later, you were seated next to him, lost in conversation about whether the Hobbit was better than Lord of the Rings.

After laughing at one of his jokes, he’d asked you out on a date, instantly enamoured with the way your eyes lit up like the Brooklyn Bridge and you radiated goodness.

And the rest was history.

One date fell into two, and then three, and then just like that... you were dating.

Boyfriend and girlfriend.

Picnics in Prospect Park and afternoons at the Smithsonian.

Nights watching all the movies and tv shows he still needed to catch up on and mornings where you joined him on a run.

It was beautiful. Sure, you had a few tense moments where you might disagree, or he might have a bad day where memories crept up and he lashed out, but you never backed down. Never ran from him or looked the other way. And he did the same for you. Holding you when you needed him to but firmly expressing himself if you ever went too far.

It was healthy, enriching and you had both grown so much in just a few months.

Especially in the intimacy department.

You weren’t lacking knowledge or experience, not by any means but it was just... some things you were a little uncomfortable with.

It wasn’t that you had bad memories of the past or had been hurt, it was more a personal thing.

And you had explained some of these hang-ups to Bucky, who’d taken them all in his stride and been amazing about it.

When you were in these moments, he would ask if you wanted to try something and if you said no, he respected it and moved on. And if you said yes... well. Then you got a lesson in just how good he could make you feel.

Bucky had learnt your body in no time at all and... He was mindblowingly good. He knew exactly how to make you cry out his name like a plea, a prayer and a sin all in one.

It had gotten to the point where you’d drift off in the day, your mind taking you back to the way his lips mouthed over your skin, the way his fingers arched and curled inside your walls just right to reach that spot that hard you arching from the bed all the whole those baby blues were locked onto yours, watching you fall apart with an adoring fire blazing in the blue depths.

The man only had to give you that killer smile and you’d be instantly soaked.

He was going to be the death of you one day.

“Bucky!”

The sound of his name bounced around the walls of your bedroom, high and keening as the fingers of his vibranium hand stroked your inner walls with a relentless rhythm and pleasure.

“C’mon baby, that’s it..” he mumbled the sweet nothings against your chest, his mouth pressing kisses across your hot skin, over your collarbones and breasts.

His hair tickled your neck as your tipped your head back, eyes squeezed shut and mouth parted in pleasure.

He was working you to your second orgasm of the night already.

The man had practically pounced on you when you walked through the door of your shared apartment and you were only too willing to drop everything - underwear included - and lose a few hours.

Your hips jerked against his hand, bucking in time with his fingers. The heel of his hand was pressed to your clit, applying delicious pressure with each pass of your hips as you chased down your release, feeling it coil tighter and tighter in the base of your spine.

You slid a hand up into his hair, knotting your fingers in the silky chocolate locks “Fuck-“

God, you were so close, so, so close-

Bucky already knew, and he scissored his fingers inside you, sucking at your nipple and triggering your orgasm, gently pushing you over that edge.

Pleasure tore through your body, making your blood sing and his name bounce through the room again. Every single orgasm he gave you made your body catch fire, and you felt it from the crown of your head to the tips of your toes. Through the haze, you heard his lust roughened voice, cooing those praises that only succeeded in making you come harder, “Good girl. Look at you... you look like a goddess. A fucking goddess that deserves to be worshiped every single day.” His hot breath fanned over your skin, “Make me want to do this all the time, give you everything, baby.”

He kept moving his fingers inside you, the noise filthy and almost forbidden as your slick coated his vibranium fingers. He moved and moved until you pushed lightly at his hand, the sensation almost too much.

Bucky met your eyes when they opened, and he brought his fingers to his mouth, sucking at them and he moaned low at your taste, a wicked grin spreading around them when you groaned. “I’ll never get tired of this.”

Of your taste.

You let out a soft huff of a laugh, feeling your body hum still as you beheld the sight of your boyfriend sucking your juices off his fingers, all dark eyes and ruffled hair. “You will be the death of me one day, you know that right?”

His chuckle was husky and he kissed your neck gently, “Oh, I know. But you will too, so the feeling is definitely mutual, doll.”

His lips brushed over your belly button and a ripple of apprehension tickled down your spine and you struggled a little to focus on his words. “Every day since, you just blow me away. Everything you do. The way you’re so determined, the drive you have.” His kissed above your hip bone, tracing his tongue over the skin and he drew a little heart with his saliva, “You make me want to be a better person. You make me feel brave enough to make amends, to let go of my past and accept it.” His words were so heartfelt, so meaningful that they threatened to bring tears to your eyes.

But then his lips brushed lower, and you knew where this was going.

He had tried before, a couple of times now in the last few months and each time you’d stopped him.

And each time, he did so without hesitation and just moved on.

Your eyes snapped open, spine locking up, “Bucky.”

Instantly, he stopped. His head lifted as he heard the hesitancy in your voice, the apprehension, “What is it, baby? Are you okay?” His lust-blown eyes were wide, a frown between them as he looked over your face for the cause of you stopping him. He realised what he did and his face softened, “Shit, baby... I’m so sorry.” He pressed a soft kiss to the inside of your thigh.

Your heart was pounding through your chest and you were convinced he could hear it. “No, I’m sorry. It’s not you... I just... um..”

Oh, you wished the ground would swallow you up.

Bucky’s warm, broad hand rubbed soothingly over your thigh and he felt the tremble in your body, “Hey... relax. It’s okay, you don’t need to tell me... .”

You swallowed, shame tinting your cheeks and you stared at the ceiling light, too afraid to look at him. But he had shared so much with you... and you wanted to share this with him, “No one... no one has ever...” a cringe took over your features, “Gone down on me before.”

Silence.

Oh, god.

Your voice came out quiet, hesitant, “Bucky...?” Gathering your courage, you peered down at him.

He was staring at you, that frown still between his eyes as he looked over your face. He had his suspicions as to why you didn’t like it, but he was never sure. “Is it because... Have people refused to? Because if they have, they were not worth your time. You are beautiful, completely and utterly beautiful and deserve to have someone worship you like that.” there was a tone to his voice, like he would go and tear into anyone who refused to give you such pleasure.

Oh.

Shaking your head quickly, you sat up on your elbows, “No! No, it’s not that. They’ve asked to it’s just... me.”

It was true.

You had partners who asked to go down on you all the time but... something in you just couldn’t. You weren’t sure entirely why.

Whether it was the idea that someone would be so close... there.

What if you weren’t... pretty enough?

What if you didn’t taste good?

What if.... you did something wrong?

It had always been a bit of a hang-up, and even when your friends described how unbelievable good it felt... you just couldn’t do it.

Bucky’s eyes danced between your own, as if he could read all of this in your expression. He let go of your thigh, crawling up your body and he slide a hand around your jaw, his fingers resting behind your ear, “Baby... you have nothing to worry about. You are absolutely gorgeous, so, so beautiful. Every single thing you do, it blows my mind.” He stroke his thumb over your cheek, “You can walk to me in sweatpants and my hoodie and I’m struck dumb.”

You laughed a little despite yourself and he copied you, eyes lighting up when you did, “Having someone go down on you... it’s like the ultimate act of worshiping. You are in control. You tell me when to stop, pull me closer or push me away... On my knees for you, tasting you and taking you to that edge.” He cocked his head, “It’ll feel a little odd at first but when you’re used to it... Oh, doll, it’ll feel so good.”

His words filtered around you, moving through you.

You knew he was good at his craft, at reading your body. And you also knew he would never make you feel uncomfortable and he would always stop if you asked him to.

And god, there was a part of you that so desperately wanted to feel it, to feel someone’s tongue between your folds, moving inside you, between your thighs...

An image came to you, his dark locks nestled between your thighs, rumbling moans vibrating against you as you arched above him...

“Okay.”

He blinked, perhaps not having expected you to accept so quickly., “Are you sure? If you’re not-“

You swallows, lifting your hand to his on your cheek, “I... I want to. Show me. Show me how good it feels.”

Bucky looked deep into your eyes, checking for himself and when he seemed satisfied, he nodded gently. “Okay... Okay. If you feel uncomfortable, if it hurts or it’s too much, please tell me to stop. Use the safeword, hit the top of my head, kick me, anything. Okay?”

God, he just cared so much didn’t he.

Heart melting, you nodded again, a smile mixed of anticipation and a little bit of nervousness on your lips, “Okay. I promise.”

Sndjcidks djcocks djckc

The approach of your impending third orgasm was almost painful, the heat in your belly tightening impossibly, every single muscle in your body locking up and screaming for release.

Bucky was there, already reading it in your body and his free arm lifted from across your waist, reaching up and sliding through yours.

You tightened your fingers around his cool metal ones, your hips now free.

An instinct came over you, and you began to rock your hips against his face-

Heat and shame flushed your cheeks and you opened your mouth to apologise, to try and stop your hips from moving -

But then Bucky let out a rough moan that reverberated through your walls, through your clit and you realised - he liked it. He liked you fucking yourself on his tongue, smearing your slick over his chin and lips.

Holy fucking god.

You wanted this, you wanted this all the time, him all other time.

Bucky rubbed harder at your clit, running tight circles and his tongued slide over your folds and then speared inside you, like white hot fire. The tip of his tongue stroked that spot, that spot that he seemed to have a direct route to and then - you were falling apart.

Your orgasm barrelled down into you relentlessly, searing through your body and turning you to light and stars and something entirely ethereal.

It felt like every cell in your body exploded, sending shockwaves of pleasure through you that just didn’t end.

Bucky took it all, took every ride of your hips, every clench of your thighs around his head and he worked you through it, tongue lapping up your juices like a man starved as you came apart above him.

He didn’t let you go, holding you steady in the whirlpool of pure sensation as you ever so slowly came down back to Earth.

You panted softly, your eyes slowly opening to the familiar ceiling of your bedroom.

Fucking hell.

Fucking. Hell.

A stunned laugh escaped your lips and you unclenched your fingers from Bucky’s hair, rubbing over your face.

He pressed soft kisses to your thighs, trailing up your body and then lightly pressing his lips to yours.

You could taste yourself on him, and it was intimate and a little filthy and god - you loved it. You loved him.

Kissing him back with equal fervour, you couldn’t stop grinning.

Bucky matched your wide smile, his body held up over yours and he brushed back your damp hair, “How do you feel?” Always looking out for you. He pulled away gently from your lips, trailing his mouth over your jaw.

You chuckled again, breathlessly, “I feel... amazing. Like my body is singing.” You shook your head just slightly in awe, “I don’t know how I’ve gone so long without that. You’re fucking good...”

You felt his shit-eating grin against your jaw, his teeth lightly nip your skin, “See... I told you. You deserve to be worshipped, baby. And I plan on doing it again and again, on my knees, under you, over you... like the goddess you are.” He brushed his lips over the shell of your ear, his voice a rough, husky whisper, “And I plan to carry on right now.”

The rest of the night fell away as he slipped back inside you effortlessly, and you climbed to the sky together again and again, and all you could think was... This was it.

You’d only been with him for a few months but in that time he had shown you more than anyone ever had. He had lovingly and carefully peeled back your layers and revealed such a shining light beneath, the light that had always been there and he had seen since that first meeting.

You wanted this forever, all the time. His love, his trust...

And his lips and tongue.

#my first ever request 🥺#oh god I hope this is okay #*nervously waits*#you just know I had to put the vibranium arm in there #look we all have an arm kink and that’s okay #we are nurturing not shaming #Bucky barnes smut #Bucky barnes x reader #Bucky barnes x reader smut #Sebastian stan x reader

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yourmidnightlover · 3 years

Text

all my fault

Request: spencer and y/n are married, and they’ve been trying to have kids, and then she finds out she’s pregnant. a few weeks into the pregnancy, she has a miscarriage, and at the hospital the doctor said it’s bc she had an abortion as a teenager, and it fucked up her it yet us. spencer didn’t know she had an abortion, and blames her for the death of the baby, and they end up sleeping separately for a while and they have to grieve by themselves. spencer ends up talking to emily about it bc of her experience and it has a comforting ending!

Summary: when reader has a miscarriage after trying to have a baby with spencer, and things about her past are revealed and leaves things rocky within their relationship.

CW: miscarriage, pregnancy, mention of abortion, spencer’s rly harsh at first, teenage pregnancy, mentions of surgery, a cervix condition that i kinda made up, depressive thoughts, negative self-worth, HAPPY ENDING. *please let me know if i’ve missed anything*

A/N: i’ve been working on coming up with a series, which i posted last thursday! i’m sorry i haven’t been as consistent with my schedule, this summer has really taken a toll on my mental health and school is about to start back up. i promise i’m not quitting writing, but my writing might become a bit more sporadic in terms of my posting schedule. i’m still not sure if i like how i’ve executed this piece, so please let me know what you think!

IMPORTANT A/N: this contains serious topics centered around pregnancy and abortion. reader end up blaming herself and it is a very triggering subject to some. if you aren’t comfortable with those kinds of depressive thoughts PLEASE DONT READ. i don’t want anyone to be triggered by my writing. your mental health matters. you matter. do not read if your sensitive to the subject matter, please!

———————————————————————

when you and spencer checked the third pregnancy test and saw those two, very clear lines on the stick, you felt an unbelievable amount of joy.

“oh my god,” you clamped your hand over your mouth, your eyes welling with tears.

“y/n…” he held his breath, holding your free hand with both of his own.

“you’re gonna be a dad,” you huffed out a laugh as his arms flew around you.

“and you’re gonna be a mom! we’re gonna have our own little family,” he cheered as he breathed in your scent, elated from the news he had hoped for since you said ‘i do.’

spencer had wanted to be a father since he met henry, you remember how attached he was to the child who wasn’t even his own. you hadn’t always wanted children, only when you were absolutely ready for them. now, you were more than ready.

your arms flew around spencer’s neck as his went around your waist. he dropped to his knees and began pressing kisses against a bump that wasn’t even visible yet, praising you and your body for carrying his child.

because it was so hard for you to get pregnant, spencer decided to baby you every chance he got. you didn’t do the dishes or sweep, you weren’t allowed to reach for high shelves or even step on a chair to do so. he was worried about you and the baby, so you let him. you found it endearing.

the perfect man that you married was so worried about the little bean inside of you, worried for your safety, that it drove him a bit mad. who were you to complain? each time he’d do one of the new little quirks like not letting you lift anything above 10 pounds, you just smiled to yourself and brushed it off.

being pregnant was something that you had lost hope for, in all honesty. spencer had been talking to a few friends who had adopted children prior to finding out you were pregnant. if this hadn’t worked out, the two of you were going to look into adoption.

spencer had planned your doctors appointment for 6 weeks after your last period. the appointment was in three days. and then the perfect outline you had for your future went down in crumbles.

you had been having pains in your lower abdomen, and you figured it was just because you were pregnant. you went to the bathroom like you normally would when you felt queasy, kneeling by the toilet in preparation for what was to come. only nothing came.

you decided to just go pee and get back to bed. there was a pain that wasn’t like you’d felt before when you were peeing, like someone had been pulling your intestines out of your body. when you looked down, you felt your stomach drop.

“spencer!” you cried out. “spencer, hurry!” you felt tears well in your eyes until he ran up beside you. his hand was on your thigh as the other one was trying to steady your shaking hand.

“what is… oh,” he looked in the toilet to see blood inside of it.

“spencer… what happened? i don’t know what happened. everything was doing so well and the baby-we just found out and now they’re-wh-what’s gonna happen?” you rambled out, unsure of how something this horrific happened so quickly.

“i-i don’t know, my love,” he pressed a kiss to your forehead. “i don’t know. but we’ll go to the hospital right now, okay? we’ll get answers.”

you just nodded. you couldn’t speak anymore. you felt your throat closing in on yourself. you cleaned yourself up and got dressed. even looking in the mirror with spencer’s arms around you, you didn’t feel anything but guilt and worry.

spencer’s touch would usually be something to ease your mind and take away the thoughts of everything else around you. only this was something wrong inside of you. you were the problem this time. and you didn’t think anything could fix this feeling.

“let’s get to the hospital, yea?” you nodded as he held onto your hand, trying to ground you to himself as he guided you to the car.

you were silent the entire drive to the doctor. there was nothing to say. there was nothing to do. there was just… nothing. you were numb.

“hey,” he spoke up, “we don’t know what happened yet. there’s a chance it’s just a fluke, right? the baby might be okay.”

“what’re the statistics, spencer? tell them to me,” you ordered as tears flowed from your eyes.

“y/n…”

“tell me! why don’t you want me to know?!” you accused him, looking over at the man driving as he but his lower lip. “1 in 4 women who experience bleeding during a pregnancy are fine. 25 percent. the other 75 percent of people have either a miscarriage or serious complications. those are the statistics.”

“y/n…” he sighed, “it’s not your fault. you didn’t want this to happen. besides, there’s still a 25 percent chance that nothings wrong.”

“whatever,” you rolled your eyes and opted to look out of the window for the remainder of the drive to the hospital.

“alright,” the doctor entered the room. “we have the results from the test and we’ve examined the ultrasound pictures. i’m so sorry, but you’ve had a miscarriage.”

what were you supposed to feel? an overwhelming sense of sorrow? like a failure? like the one thing you wanted most in the world fell through?

“how-how did this happen?” you spoke through the tears. “we were so-we were careful. i didn’t lift heavy objects, i didn’t do repetitive motions, i just… we tried so hard to make this work,” you shook your head in disapproval, as if you wouldn’t accept the answer that had already been proven to you.

“there’s proof of an abortion when you were a teenager. there was severe damage done to your cervix that wasn’t assessed pre-pregnancy. now, we can repair the damage within the next two months, but it will still be difficult to become pregnant after the surgery,” the female informed you.

“then what’s the point of getting the surgery?” you scoffed, looking at spencer who was just staring off in space.

“while getting pregnant will still be difficult, maintaining the pregnancy is much more likely. the fetus would be more protected and secure after the surgery,” she explained with a pitiful smile, you couldn’t help but wonder how she could smile after giving you the worst news of your life.

“right,” you nodded curtly, allowing her to sense the mood of the conversation.

“i’ll leave you two be. i’m so sorry for your loss,” she gave the both of you a pitiful smile before exiting the room, the only sound audible being the closing of the door.

it didn’t feel real. it felt as though you were in a nightmare. only this time, you wouldn’t wake in spencer’s comforting arms. you wouldn’t hear the soft soothing voice of the man you love trying to calm you down. you wouldn’t feel the solace he would provide by merely being himself in your proximity.

the drive home was eerily quiet. there was an inkling of animosity between you. looking over at spencer in the driver’s seat, he had a dead look on his face, the only sign of previous emotion being his red-rimmed eyes and tear-stained cheeks. he didn’t even look like your spencer. he looked like a stranger in the drivers seat with a cold expression that you could barely read.

you knew this was something you should talk about. when the nurse came back in the room it was only to offer a few referrals go therapists that specialized in this kind of grief. clearly, any couple should talk about losing an unborn baby. but you knew that’s not what spencer was truly upset about.

you waited until you shut the door to your apartment before saying anything.

“maybe we should talk about it?” you whispered, not knowing how he’d react.

“about what? the fact that you’ve lied to me for our entire relationship?!” he wouldn’t even turn around to face you. “i thought we were in this together, y/n. we aren’t supposed to keep secrets from each other - especially not any that just killed our child!”

“hey…” you winced at his words. “why would you say that?”

“that’s the truth! your choices when you were a teenager just killed our child! my child!” he finally turned to face you, and you wished he hadn’t.

“do you think i knew they would botch my abortion, spencer?! do you think that’s what i wanted?!” you stepped closer to him, he sighed and ran a hand through his hair.

“i don’t know what you want anymore, y/n,” he shook his head, clearly exasperated.

“i want you. i want to get the surgery to fix my cervix. i want to grieve our child. i still want kids… with you, spencer,” you tried to ease the mood, calm him down. you reached your hand out to cup his cheek before he dodged your touch, afraid of touching you. “but you don’t want that?” you whispered so quiet, too afraid of the answer to raise your voice.

“i-“ he sighed and bit his lower lip. “i don’t know.”

“right. of course you don’t,” you shook your head before sitting on the couch, dropping your face in your hands.

“what’s that supposed to mean?” he scoffed as he took off his coat.

“it means that: of course, you’re making this about you! it can’t be about us grieving our loss together like the doctor recommended?!” you peeked between your hands at the man you still didn’t recognize.

“maybe we shouldn’t grieve together since we can’t even have a conversation without getting angry at one another,” he tried to reason.

“the only reason i’m getting mad is because you’re blaming me for my baby’s death,” you spat back at the doctor before you.

“because it’s your fault!” he stood strong in his belief. “when you were a teenager, did you or did you not have an abortion?”

“i did,” you admitted.

“and the nurse said that in said abortion, they screwed your cervix up! if you didn’t have that abortion, our child would still be alive! we would be on our way to become happy parents!” he accused, rubbing salt in the already stinging wound. “it’s your fucking fault!”

“stop saying that,” you shook your head and dropped it back in your hands, trying to hide the tears that began to flow down your face.

“it is, y/n! i can’t believe you’re even trying to say this isn’t!” he chuckled, clearly getting under your skin.

“shut up, spencer!”

“i can’t, y/n!” he sat in the chair across from you before standing back up, too hyper to sit. “no wonder it was so hard for you to get pregnant.”

“spencer,” you begged him to stop, meeting his face with your teary eyes.

“y/n,” he stared you in the eyes, and you saw a glimpse of the man you loved for a second before he retreated to the bedroom.

you sat on the couch in confusion of what had just occurred.

when you were 15, you’re boyfriend was adamant about taking your relationship “to the next step.” you didn’t think you were ready to have sex, but you wanted him to stay with you. so, you gave in. it just so happened to be that you were one of the lucky girls that ends up getting pregnant her first time in spite of birth control and a condom. you couldn’t tell your mom about your pregnancy, she’d have your head on a pole.

so, you earned enough money from your job to get an abortion yourself. you went to a clinic and had your boyfriend’s mom come with you to sign as your guardian. was it smart to get an abortion that cheap? probably not. but you had no other choice. your mom had made it abundantly clear that if she caught you fooling around with him that she’d kick you out.

you were 15. you were young and still had to finish high school. there was no support system for you. you would’ve been on the streets with a little baby - not to mention the amount of debt you’d go into for just giving birth to a child in a hospital. it was the only choice.

and now you were being berated for making the only choice you even had - and by the person you loved most in the world.

you curled into yourself on the couch, laying your head on the arm and crying into the fabric. you released all of the tension and turmoil. you held onto the cushions as if it were the man that you wanted - no, needed to comfort you. because as much as you’d hate to admit it and try to fight those thoughts, part of you thought that spencer was right. it was your fault.

you fell asleep on the couch that night. you didn’t have the strength to get up to grab a blanket so you just sucked it up.

spencer didn’t sleep at all. he was used to having you curled into his chest, or himself on yours. he felt terrible about how he had talked to you, but he was too stubborn to admit anything just yet.

in the middle of the night he went out of the room to grab a glass of water. he saw you curled up in a ball, you head resting on the arm of the couch as you slept. it was the most peaceful you looked in the past 24 hours. but you began shivering as you slept. you were probably too exhausted to get up to do anything.

he went to the hall closet on a detour and grabbed your favorite, soft blanket and laid it on top of your body. after placing a soft kiss on your forehead, he went into the kitchen and made his glass of water before taking one more glance at you. you had snuggled into the blanket, pulling it up to your chin with a gentle smile that always appeared when he kissed your forehead as you slept.

maybe he didn’t screw up too badly, after all.

the next few days were spent avoiding one another. spencer couldn’t face you after knowing you had kept something so dire from him for the entirety of your relationship. you couldn’t face him after he made you feel as though it was your fault you lost your baby.

you would stay on the couch all day, barely eating or drinking anything while spencer would go out - only mentioning the library or the office to do more paperwork. eventually he just started sleeping at morgan’s house - probably because he couldn’t stand being around you.

you didn’t know how to grieve your baby, you were hoping that spencer might help, but that clearly won’t be happening. on top of that, you were worrying about your marriage. he couldn’t even look at you, how was he supposed to talk to you and sleep beside you?

a lot of times, it’s perceived that the only reason women were put on this planet were to have children - of course that’s a false notion, but it didn’t make it sting any less. your body had betrayed you. you had betrayed yourself.

it was only 12 days after spencer left when he came back home, if he could call it that anymore. once he walked into the living room, he saw you curled up in that same position on the couch. you had a blank stare that was directed towards the black tv. the only evidence that you were doing something was the empty water bottles surrounding you - certainly not enough considering he’d been gone for over a week.

when he entered you didn’t even flinch. your gaze stayed on the empty screen and your face remained vacant of any emotion.

in all honesty, morgan was the one to tell spencer he should check on you. spencer hadn’t told him everything about your argument, he knew he was in the wrong. but he was just so angry. regardless, he was here now, and it’s a good thing he was.

you hadn’t been taking care of yourself. spencer had morgan and savannah checking on him, but you had nobody. he only realized this when morgan pointed it out. and as upset as he was, spencer would always love you. your expressionless face only worried him more. your clothes had been changed from when he last saw you, but he doubts you’ve had a shower.

he stayed silent as he began picking up the empty water bottles from around the table and couch. you looked at him quizzically with furrowed brows.

“what’re you doing?” you asked, your chin already quivering as tears threatened to stream down your face.

“i’m trying to help,” he whispered as sensitively as he could, making eye contact with the most pitiful face you’d ever seen.

“i think you’ve helped enough,” you rolled your eyes before resuming your serious stare-down with the television. “you can leave.”

“no, i can’t,” he replied, sitting down on the opposite end of the couch while being sure not to touch you - he didn’t know if you were ready for that.

“you already did,” you brought to his attention, briefly looking at him. “just go.”

“y/n, i-“

“i don’t want to hear it! what’re you gonna say that could make me feel worse, spencer?!” you let the tears fall past your waterline. “i know it’s my fault. i know i screwed up! and i’m sorry! i’m so sorry!” you replied with far too much sincerity, the tears streaming down your face before he scooted closer to you, planning on wrapping his arms around you. “stop! don’t come near me!” you pushed his shoulders away. “it’s my fault,” you lowered your voice significantly before wrapping your arms around yourself.

he had called emily as soon as he got back into the bedroom. he knew she had previously had an abortion when she was a teenager, and he just needed to hear her side of it. part of him didn’t even expect her to pick up the phone.

“reid, what’s wrong?” she immediately answered.

“i-i think i need to talk to you,” he whispered in a hushed tone.

“right now?” she asked in a mildly concerned tone.

“if you can? the sooner the better,” he answered honestly.

“alright. you want to meet somewhere or just come over?”

“can i just come over? it’s really personal and i wasn’t sure who else to go to,” he began tying his shoes and hoping she’d agree.

“of course, come on over,” she replied in a worried voice.

“ok. i’ll be there in twenty.”

he quietly left the apartment, not before sparing you a regretful glance. he lost his child, but you also lost your child as well. he just couldn’t control his anger. and partially, he thought he was right.

how could you not have told him about something so serious? the second you had began having issues getting pregnant, maybe you should’ve been open about previous pregnancies.

“hey,” emily greeted before giving him a hug after seeing his teary eyes. “come inside.”

“thanks,” he sniffled before stepping into her apartment.

she guided him into her living room and sat down on the couch beside him. they sat there for a few silent minutes before he was able to work up enough courage.

“y/n was pregnant,” he whispered, barely audible if she weren’t right beside him.

“was,” she pointed out, already feeling as though she knew the rest of the story.

“she uhm-she miscarried two weeks ago,” he somberly admitted for the first time to someone else. “the doctor said it was because she had an abortion when she was a teenager that somehow ruined her cervix.”

“and that’s why you felt like you needed to talk to me?” she gathered, she was a great profiler for a reason but this was far more obvious.

“i was pretty harsh. i-i told her it was her fault,” he bit his lower lip as he grimaced. “i really rubbed it in, too.”

“spencer… “ she sighed, taking a deep breath before continuing. “you’re mourning a life, right now. obviously, that would raise tensions and emotions would be heightened. but… have you apologized? for telling her it was her fault?”

“no?” he replied after thinking about it. “i was going to do that today but she’s… she’s not in good shape. i’m not saying she needs to be perfect, but while i was at derek’s i can tell she didn’t take care of herself. she barely drank any water.”

“did you ask her why she had an abortion? why she didn’t tell you? did you ask her anything about how she’s feeling?” emily asked once more.

“no,” he cowered down, feeling even worse about the truthful answer. “i was just… selfish. i didn’t think about how she’s feeling. i just-i feel so bad now, seeing what state she’s in.”

“when i got an abortion it was because i wasn’t ready for a child,” she began to inform him. “i was a child, myself. how was a child supposed to take care of another one? my mother would’ve been disgraced. i basically had nobody there for me. i kept it a secret because having an abortion is so controversial. i knew people would look at me differently for making a responsible decision for my future.”

“god, i feel so bad,” he began to tear up himself. “i love her so much and i told her these horrible things.”

“make it right, spencer,” she gave him a supportive smile and pat his thigh before he stood up.

“i-i have to go,” he wiped the tears from his face before giving emily a hug, grateful she would listen to him at such an ungodly hour.

he quickly drove back home, where he decidedly belonged in the first place. he never should’ve left home. he never should’ve left you. you were his home, and he didn’t know how he could possibly lose sight of that.

“y/n,” he cooed as he entered the apartment once more. it was noticeably a bit more clean. the trash was taken out, the dishes were done, and your hair was wet from a shower - he assumed. “hey,” he smiled when he saw you sitting on the bed, cheeks still red and tear-stained with red, puffy eyes.

“hi,” you sighed as you brushed your hair, spencer sat down beside you.

“how’re you feeling?” you shrugged. “i need to apologize to you,” he admitted, placing a hand on your thigh. “i’m so, so sorry for what i said. telling you that it’s your fault that we lost our child… i-there’s no excuse. i was clearly upset, but so were you. what i said was so out of line, and i’ll never be able to express how sorry i am to you.”

“you’re right,” you shrugged. “it was my fault.”

“no,” he rubbed his thumb on your skin. “it was not your fault. i’m so sorry i made you believe that.”

“when i was 15 my boyfriend at the time pressured me to have sex. we used a condom and i was in birth control but i still-i still ended up pregnant,” you began, taking a deep breath before continuing. “i couldn’t tell my mom because she would’ve kicked me out, so i saved up some money and had his mom take me to a cheap clinic. she signed as my mom and i got the procedure done. that was the end of it,” you finished tears streaming down your face. “a few weeks after the procedure i started having pains in like my lower back, but i didn’t think anything of it. so… it is my fault. i shouldn’t have gone to a cheap clinic, but i couldn’t live on the streets with a baby and no way to clothe or feed them.”

“y/n,” he got your attention, wiping the tears from your cheeks. “you were a teenager who had no other choice, love. it’s not your fault, it’s the clinic’s.”

“i just… it hurts so bad, spencer,” you shook your head in defeat before he wrapped his arms around you. “not even just emotionally, my body physically hurts so bad. i don’t know what to do and i thought i lost you and i didn’t know what i would do without you because i didn’t think you loved me anymore because it’s my fault,” you ranted out, sobbing into his shoulder before he moved the two of you around the bed to lay down, you on his chest.

“i’m so sorry you had to go through that, and that you’re still dealing with the repercussions,” he pressed a kiss to your forehead. “but know that i’m not leaving you. i love you and nothing will ever change that.”

“there’s nothing we can do now,” you whined, clutching to his shirt as if he’d disappear once more.

“we can go to the recommended therapy. we can get that surgery to fix your cervix,” he reminded you, rubbing circles onto your back as you sniffled. “then, if you’d like, we could try again for a baby.”

“so you still want to be with me?” you whispered by his ear, clearly worried of the answer.

“of course i do,” he said as if there were no other option; there wasn’t. “i’m so, so sorry, love.”

“the reason i didn’t tell you is because,” you sighed as you shuffled on top of spencer, now sitting on his lap and facing him. “because there’s this stigma that comes with having an abortion - and i didn’t know how you’d react. i also didn’t know it didn’t go well in the first place, but that’s a different story,” you chuckled. “i’m sorry. i should’ve told you about something so serious.”

“you don’t have to apologize,” he brushed a strand of hair from your face. “that was from your past. this is our future, we shouldn’t get caught up on it and allow it to ruin this.”

you nodded, “you’re right. are-are you staying here, now? or are you going back to derek’s?” there was an obvious look of hope in your eye that spencer never planned on squashing.

“i’m staying here,” he smiled. “home. you’re my home.”

“you’re so cheesy,” you rolled your eyes as a laugh left your lips.

“i’ve missed your smile,” he pressed a kiss to those very lips, your smile not going away but growing even bigger.

“i’ve missed you,” you pointed at his chest. “please don’t leave again.”

“i won’t. ever again,” you held your pinky out, he smiled and wrapped his own around it. “i’m so sorry.”

“we’ll work at it,” you sighed. “we’ll build back the trust and fix my stupid cervix and then maybe try again for a baby.”

over the next few months spencer and you had been going to therapy once a week, mourning the loss of your baby and working through your other issues.

five months after you found out about the miscarriage, you had the surgery to fix your cervix.

one year after you fixed your cervix you and spencer began talking about having a child. you were extremely nervous, rightfully so. you voiced your concerns to spencer about what if the surgery didn’t work? what if your cervix wasn’t the only issue? and he replied by reminding you that you would both take this one step at a time.

seven months after having the conversation with spencer about having children, a miracle had caught up to you.

you were pregnant.

taglist:

@averyhotchner

@greenprisca

@muffin-cup

@spenxerslut

@spencerreid9

@spencyreidpls

@spencerreid9

@spencersmagic

@calm-and-doctor

@the-local-pendeja

@spencersrose

@spencersmagic

@shemarmooresfedora

@pastelbabygirl19

if you’d like to be added to the taglist, please don’t hesitate to message me or leave a comment!

#tw pregnancy #tw miscarriage #tw abortion #tw abortion mention #tw depressive thoughts #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid #spencer #spencer reid angst #spencer reid comfort

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lonely-lost-soul · 3 years

Text

Fight For Me

(C!Technoblade x gn!possessive!Reader)

Request 11: could I maybe request some c!techno x gn!possessive!reader fluff that follows someone trying to threaten techno while completely brushing off the reader only for the reader to step in and feral threaten them back (perhaps some fighting ensues with reader coming out on top) and then techno is awestruck by his partner which is then where the fluff comes in

Requested By: @bowlofsoup

I hope you like it!

“Sweetheart can you do me a favor and pass me the blaze powder,” Technoblade asked from his hunched-over position at his brewing station. He was wearing more casual clothes, his glasses loose on his nose, hair pulled back into a messy bun. You sat next to him on one of the chests, legs swinging up and down, you were wearing one of Techno’s oversized shirts.

“Sure thing,” You hummed tossing open the chest and handing him a bottle of said powder, he reached forward to take the bottle from your hands and you kissed his lips before he could take the bottle. Technoblade purred happily, his eyes going half-lidded at the surprise kiss, you chuckled against his lips as he flushed pink.

“Cringe.”

“Nerd,” You shot back with a smile he rolled his eyes focusing back on his potions, “Why’re you making these again?” Your gaze shifted towards the window. It was snowing again, it was always snowing. You hated that you were getting sick of the constant cold you wondered what the weather was like back at L’manburg or L’manhole was a better term for the once-prosperous nation. Technoblade looked back up at you, his hand reached out to interlock with your own, which caught your attention snapping you out of your daydreaming and you smiled back at him.

“Someone wants to buy them off me, figure sees what they’d offer me for it, not like I’m worried about getting jumped or anything,” Technoblade smirked coyly at you, almost like he was awaiting your praise. You didn’t fall for it though, simply letting out a little hum in approval, he frowned and cleared his throat.

“Oh sorry. Oh baby you’re so brave and strong, no one can take you down.” You pressed your hands together swooning sarcastically, Technoblade frowned and put you into a headlock. You laughed loudly instead of fighting against him you snuggled in his hold, “You’d never hurt me.”

“Try me.”

“Is that a challenge?” You mused with a flutter of your eyelashes, Technoblade flushed a little and grumbled under his breath. He could feel the smugness radiating off your entire being, if you were anyone else he would’ve sent you through a wall.

“Just shut up and grab a bag for the potions. They’re almost done.”

“Yes sir.” You saluted hopping off the chest to grab your bag from the coat rack, it was a soft brown bag covered in patches. Holding the bag open you allowed Technoblade to place the potions inside of them, “we ready to go?”

“You grabbed your coat and had breakfast right?” He raised an eyebrow, it seemed to be your turn to flush and Technoblade frowned, “Right?” Technoblade’s eyes narrowed in your direction and he watched you tap your fingers together sheepishly. “You’re a disaster, you’d be dead without me. Eat,” Technoblade dragged you into the kitchen and pulled out a roll for you to munch on, “Jam?”

“Yes please.” You gave a firm nod as he grabbed the knife and spread it on the bread before handing it to you.

“Remember to eat, can’t have my Starlight starving themselves,” The way you turned red made the hybrid smirk coyly at you. “You mean too much to me to go out in such a lame way, there has to be at least a little bit of bloodshed. Maybe some dismemberment if you’re lucky.”

“Damn and to think I was flattered for half a minute.” Techno chuckled at your comment, a deep rumble in his chest, you couldn’t help but smile yourself. You bit off a piece of bread, teeth tearing through the food easily “Ready to go now?”

“Finish eating then we can go. There’s no rush.”

“Isn’t someone waiting for us?”

“Let them wait,” Technoblade shrugged, wrapping his hands around your waist and pulling you close. You melted into his warm body closing your eyes, just taking a moment to bask in your love for the Blood God, how did you get so lucky?

Unbeknownst to you, he was thinking the same thing about you.

Eventually, you pulled away from him, much to his displeasure, and reluctantly said you both should head out. He huffed in protest and you pecked his lips, assuring him that the long journey would be worth it in the end. You both slide on your winter gear and headed towards Carl in the stables, you scratched the horse’s nose and he whinnied at the attention from his second favorite person. Technoblade tossed him an apple to which he munched on happily before applying his saddlebags to the sides of the horse, he hopped onto him and held a hand out to you. You took the hand with a wild smile swinging your leg over the side of Carl and wrapping your arms around Technoblade’s waist securely. He looked at you over his shoulder and pecked your forehead lightly, you cooed at him in response, and just like that the both of you were off. As you traversed the Tundra, your adoring boyfriend decided it would be a great time to quiz you on your fighting skills. He always did this, especially when he was nervous about something, you concluded a part of him was nervous the deal would go south and you’d end up hurt. You squeezed him a little and answered all his questions in hopes you’d ease his worries, it seemed to work as he relaxed against your chest. You would’ve played with his hair if it wasn’t tied up in a bun, so instead, you settled for giving him gentle kisses on the back of his neck.

He was a wreck by the time you got to the meeting spot, all red-faced and embarrassed. You did feel a little guilty but it was also very entertaining to watch him slide off the horse all frustrated with your antics. “You’re lucky we have somewhere to be,” he vaguely threatened and you hummed,

“What happened to ‘they can wait?’” His red eyes narrowed into slits and Carl stomped his foot, “oh you’re such a party pooper.” You complained as the horse nudged you forward towards the meeting spot. Technoblade huffed now turning his glare on Carl for interrupting your moment. He adjusted the sword at his hip and marched forward expecting you to follow, you did, but it’s the principle that irked you. Walking a little way down the wooded path you came across a man in a beanie leaning against a tree, he had small yellow wings and a scar going from his right eye down to the top of his lip. Your head snapped to Techno and you hissed, “You didn’t tell me it was Quackity! The mother fucker planned your execution!”

“Hush.” He waved you off, “money is money. If he can offer us something good we shouldn’t complain.”

“But-”

“Finally!” The man groaned stretching his arms above his head, his small wings fluttered as he pushed off the tree, “Took you long enough. Who’s your little friend?” He raised an eyebrow at your stature and you glared hotly at him, already wanting to tear his throat out.

“My partner.” Technoblade answered monotonously, “Is that important?”

“Romantically or like your bodyguard.” He snickered at the mental image of the Blood God hiring a bodyguard for himself.

“That’s none of your business.” You snapped, Technoblade’s hand squeezed your shoulder trying to calm you down.

“I suppose not.” Quackity clapped his hands together, his two golden rings bouncing off one another making a soft clicking sound, “let’s get down to business than Mr. Blade. I want the potions you have, what exactly do you want in return?”

“What can you give me?” Technoblade raised an eyebrow, his hand never leaving the bag of potions at his side, Quackity tapped his chin in thought.

“Anything you desire. I came into a… a lot of money recently, a lot of people owe me a few favors. So I can truly give you anything,” Quackity smirked as you noticed Technoblade’s eye twitch, he didn’t like the sound of someone having so much power, and to be honest you didn’t either.

“Huh. well alright then.” He grunted drumming his fingers against the bag, “these favors people owe you, what exactly did you do for them?”

“Are you asking me to spill all my secrets? Techno you dog.” He purred out teasingly, “they made some bets with me and they lost simply as that.”

“What did they lose?” You asked and Quackity rolled his eyes,

“You’re a talker aren’t you?”

“Back off.” Technoblade snarled earning another eyebrow raise from the man, but you did briefly see fear flicker across his eyes. “You talk to them like that again deals off and I take another one of your teeth, understand me.”

“Understood, big guy. No hard feelings.” He held up his hands in defense his tiny wings ruffling a little bit showing off his nervousness, “Although your attitude just proves my point. You’re a brute and you’ll always be a brute.” Technoblade didn’t respond to the harassing but had a feeling you might as the pressure on your shoulder increased. Your jaw was set hard, as Quackity continued, “you truly are more monster than human.”

Oh, he did not just say that to Techno.

In one swift movement, you pulled Technoblade’s sword from its sheath at his side and drew it in front of you, pure anger flooding through your veins. Techno tried to grab the sword before you did something stupid but you were already charging at Quackity. He looked a little frightened as an ax appeared at his side, “Take it back.” You spit as metal clashed against metal, your eyes blazing with unadulterated rage, “Take it back right now. He’s so much more than that.” You swung the sword back which caused Quackity to stumble backward throwing off his rhythm,

“Bite me bitch.” Quackity snapped back attempting to regain his footing as he blocked another blow from you,

“Don’t tempt me birdie.” You sassed right back, which threw him off his game again not expecting you to come back with a retort and a nickname. You kicked him solidly in the chest and he fell flat on his ass the sword swung and the tip dug into his throat. His adam’s apple bobbed as he gulped nervously,

“Wait, wait, wait, wait, wait.” He sputtered out as you narrowed his eyes, “look I’m sorry okay, okay! My mouth gets the best of me sometimes, I’ll admit that! I’m a humble guy!” You rolled your sharp (e/c) eyes at that statement, “Look, deal still on this time I’ll throw in two gold rings yeah?” He swallowed thickly “Also all the diamond I have on me and in my enderchest.”

Turning to glance at Techno for the first time he cleared his throat looking absolutely flushed. He shifted uncomfortably and marched over to the both of you a hand resting on your lower back. Technoblade glared down at the duck hybrid,

“We don’t want your rings. I want all the money you’ve won from your deals and a god apple.”

“I don’t have-”

“Then think of it as an I.O.U. birdy.” You pursed your lips feeling Technoblade squeeze your back, “Deal?” The tip of the sword dug a little deeper into his throat,

“FUCK! Yes, yes deal!” He squawked and you removed the sword, Technoblade immediately took it from your hands shooting you a look that screamed,

‘We are talking about this later.’

Technoblade tossed the contents of the bag at Quackity and he snatched up all the potions he could shoving them into his chest. Immediately handing you the diamonds he had on him, as Quackity scurried away Technoblade didn’t remove his hand from your back. Once his yellow wings disappeared into the treeline Technoblade spun you around and pressed a kiss to your lips. It immediately stole your breath away, as you stumbled back a few steps.

“That.” He kissed your jaw, “was the hottest,” he kissed your neck next, “thing we’ve seen in a while.” Technoblade purred pressing another passionate kiss to your lips, your hands desperately tried to pull out his hair from his bun to give it a hard yank. A louder purr rumbled from his chest as he pulled away to rest his forehead on yours,

“So the voices liked my badassery too?”

“Oh yeah,” his eyes fluttered a little his breathing hitching, “god they want me to just bite the shit out of you. Mark you all over. You can’t tease them like, they’re sensitive.” You cooed softly tracing his jawline with nimble fingers,

“I’m so sorry. I’ll make it up to them once we get home.” His eyes shot up to meet your own lidded ones, with a loud whistle he called Carl over, he scooped you up in his arms causing you to laugh loudly.

You could safely say that was the fastest you and Techno had ever gotten home.

686 notes · View notes

queenshelby · 3 years

Text

My Friend’s Father (Part Two of Three)

Pairing: Cillian Murphy x Reader

Warning: Smut

Words: 4,065

Notes: Alright, no judgment. This was a dream of mine and I felt like I had to write it down. Everyone in this Fic is over the age of 18 and this Fic is in no way based on Cillian’s real family life. It’s pure filth.

*************************

‘Oh my god…he asked me on a date’ was all you heard from outside the guestroom when you got changed into your clothes.

‘Who? Jeremy?’ you asked, poking your head into the hallway at the same time Cillian did while Denise was jumping up and down in excitement like a young schoolgirl. She had been interested in Jeremy for about six months and, finally, things began to develop.

‘Yes Jeremy. He wants to go to the movies tonight but I told him that you are visiting so…’ Denise said with excitement, causing Cillian to roll his eyes while you cheered her on with excitement.

‘You should still go. I will be fine here on my own’ you said while Cillian shook his head in disapproval.

‘No, you shouldn’t’ he then joked and Denise sighed immediately.

‘Dad, stop listening to our conversations, please…’ Denise said, but Cillian simply began to laugh and told her to enjoy herself and be safe.

After all, Denise was almost 22 and he couldn’t really control what she was doing. Nonetheless, he was concerned and reminded her to call him or her brother in case she runs into trouble.

‘Do you think I should?’ Denise asked and you, of course, reassured her that it was fine. She should cease this opportunity to get to know him better and you decided to spend the day at the local mall to buy her an outfit for the occasion.

***

After the outfit had been sorted, you dragged your friend to the lingerie store which is where you decided to treat yourself to some sexy underwear as well.

‘What do you think?’ you asked, featuring a black lacey lingerie set with matching suspenders.

‘Whoa Y/N, that’s hot. You should get it for, you know, whenever you might get the chance to wear it’ Denise teased before asking you again about one of the guys at your university in whom you were interested in.

‘He is married, so I am not stupid enough to pursue it’ you explained, causing Denise to cringe.

‘Jesus, how old is he?’ she asked, but you weren’t so sure.

‘Late thirties, I think. I am not sure. He works as a lecturer in a different department’ you explained and Denise couldn’t help but shake her head and tell you to look at men around your own age.

The truth was, men your age didn’t interest you. You had been with two men before, both in their early twenties and neither of them were able to satisfy you.

***

Later that evening, after your friend Denise had left the house in order to attend her date with Jeremy, you took the time to talk to her father Cillian in the living room.

‘She's been talking about this Jeremy for a while. I think they're a thing but she won't tell me’ Cillian shrugged with a slight chuckle, hoping that you would reveal more to him.

‘Listen, I am Denise’s friend, I am not going to tell you anything she doesn’t want me to tell you’ you laughed, knowing exactly what he was doing, using his charm to source information.

‘That’s fair…it was worth a try though, right?’ Cillian chuckled and you nodded with a smile.

‘Absolutely’ you grinned awkwardly in response, causing Cillian to laugh.

‘Well, I think you are being a very thoughtful friend for not crashing her date’ he then chuckled and, just as he did, Denise’s brother barged out of the front door with a loud ‘see ya’.

‘Uhm, yes…Looks like it’s just us huh?’ you said somewhat nervously and Cillian nodded reluctantly while you looked at his lips and back up to his eyes and then back down.

The way you looked at him threw Cillian off and he began to stammer when responding to your observation.

‘Yes, uhm listen, just make yourself feel at home. I am going to…’ Cillian said but, just before he could finish his sentence, you interrupted him.

‘Cillian’ you said somewhat abruptly after you licked your lips, which is when you realised that he was going to say something else.

‘Yes Y/N?’ he inhaled, closing his eyes as he turned his head to the side. It took every muscle in his body to keep a safe distance from you.

‘No sorry…you were saying something…go on’ you stammered.

‘No, it’s alright, you first’ he responded and, just as he did, you grabbed Cillian’s hand which was clenched in frustration at his side and his eyes jolted open and his attention snapped back to you just as he had worked up the ability to turn away.

‘I wasn’t being a thoughtful friend for not crashing Denise’s date. In fact, I was being selfish’ you explained as you closed your eyes and wrapped your arms around the back of Cillian’s neck.

‘Selfish in what way?’ he asked and, just as he did, you leaned towards him and pressed your lips onto his, catching him by surprise.

‘Y/N, I don’t think that is a good idea’ Cillian said, immediately breaking the kiss and stepping away from you.

‘I am twice your age Y/N. I could be your father for god’s sake’ he then huffed out but, despite his words of discouragement, what had developed in between his legs was rather encouraging.

‘I know and I am fairly sure that I am not the only twenty something year old out there who is attracted to you’ you chuckled before continuing on. ‘But, if you aren’t attracted to me then that’s totally fine and I am sorry for having crossed a line’ you said, biting your lip nervously as you began to unbutton your summer dress, slowly revealing the lingerie you had bought earlier that day.

‘Let me get this straight Y/N. You stayed here to seduce me?’ Cillian gulped while watching you undress eagerly.

‘Yes, pretty much’ you chuckled. ‘I’ve been fantasising about this for years’ you told him before you pulled him closer by his neck.

‘I want you to sleep with me’ you whispered, running your hand over his crotch and it was becoming way too difficult for Cillian to control himself.

‘Fuck Y/N’ Cillian sighed as his hands automatically fanned out over your hips and melded them together at the core. Your stomachs pressed to one another and your breathing increased with the sudden flash of heat radiating from both of your bodies.

Giving into his desires, Cillian unleashed a hard kiss on your soft lips and you were knocked off balance somewhat but he was holding you in place by your hips just above where you were propped against the back of the couch.

Your eyebrows raised unintentionally by the sudden shift in speed and you fired back licking his lips in request that he part them.

He complied and you slid your tongue just far enough to touch his and flicked it up and down quickly before pulling back. Cillian took a deep breath as he followed your tongue back into your mouth.

You lifted onto your toes to better reach Cillian’s lips and, with your movement, you felt his grip tighten on your hips.

Cillian then pulled himself further into your core which pushed you further onto the back of the couch. Cillian was trying to stay calm and you loved that and hated it at the same time. You couldn't help but want to speed him up as you could already feel his racing heart pounding against his rib cage and vibrating through your chest.

Cillian’s soft tongue retreated after licking your pink quivering lips. You shivered as you felt his fingertips squeeze tighter on your hips. You sucked his bottom lip between yours and grazed your teeth as deep as they would naturally go. You felt his jaw clench. In fact, you felt every muscle in his body tensing and then tensing more.

Your feet had been dangling but now your ankles were locked behind his knees. You didn't remember consciously placing them there but, then again, you didn't remember consciously doing anything since the moment you kissed him.

Your hand pulled him by the nape of his neck further into your mouth and he groaned accidentally then rolled his eyes at his uncontrolled noise.

Cillian then leaned you backwards, your entire weight and his depended on his feet being grounded. You tied your ankles tighter around the back of his knees and held your breath.

Eventually, Cillian moved his hands from your hips down your thigh using as much pressure as he could manage before he spread his fingers out as he journeyed just as ferociously back up.

You tilted your head back, closing your eyes and using your sense of touch to the full while inhaling Cillian’s scent. He looked up, seeing your soft closed eyes and plump lips in ecstasy and his view trailed down your neck and between your breasts. His hands slid gentle and firm around your back and he gripped the small of your back with powerful fingertips.

He felt you shiver and he let his tongue slid up from the centre of your collar bone to the centre of your throat where he felt you suddenly gulp.

‘Are you sure that this is what you want Y/N?’ he asked, pausing momentarily.

‘Yes Mr Murphy…’ you stammered, causing Cillian to cock an eyebrow.

‘Cillian I mean’ you giggled while taking a moment to let your summer dress drop to the floor.

‘Jesus fucking Christ’ he said as he saw you standing there in your new sexy lingerie and you couldn’t help but smirk.

‘This is all yours. I want you to fuck me’ you said and, without losing any time, Cillian kissed along your neck, over and over.

‘Trust me, I will’ he smirked as he nibbled on your neck.

He noticed that every time he breathed in, you did also. And every time he exhaled, you exhaled.

Eventually, he caught your lips with his again as his hands firmly caressed up her back and retreated down, a little further than before.

Cillian felt your eyes on him. Your breath was sweet on his lips, it made him want to breathe deeper. It seemed impossible for either of you to get any closer than you were and he felt a desire for you which he hadn’t felt for any woman in years.

You whispered his name which sent shivers down his spine. He signalled his hand to unintentionally hold you tighter while you flexed your fingers on his shoulders, digging your nails past his shirt.

Cillian looked down at your lips as they quivered your whispers. He placed his lips on yours again, not pressing but rather barely touching them.

‘Y/N’ Cillian whispered and his word was a mood and name and definition all wrapped in one. It was the answer to your unasked question. He wanted you just as much as you wanted him.

Cillian flexed his fingers into your thighs and lifted you up from the couch. You latched on, tightening your legs around his waist and your arms around his neck. He waited there, kissing you long and hard before he could even think of where to put you, if he ever wanted to put you down.

You smiled on his lips, trailing kisses to his ear and whispered ‘come with me’.

You let your fingers unzip themselves from behind his neck and your torso flung back onto the couch. You now hung up-side-down, legs still latched onto his waist. You smiled up at him and he let his fingers roam your entire body for a moment.

Both his hands pressed firmly as he explored and he started at your thighs and pressed into your tight belly. He completely encased your rib cage with his large hands before lightening his touch as he began to caress your breasts.

‘Oh god, please don’t stop’ you moaned as, finally, Cillian hoovered over you and you were laying under him. You loosened your legs and lengthened your body, your arms gripping the armrest to one end of the couch and your toes reaching for the other arm rest.

Cillian made it first priority to grab your face with both hands and hold you in the longest, hottest kiss he knew you would ever have. He kissed down your neck and you used your strength in your arms and legs to press yourself up into his mouth as he unclasped the front of your bra and let his tongue flick over your nipple.

It was too much for you to try and keep your hands from his body and you fought to keep your hands from trembling at the least as you streamed your fingers through his hair and made a request by tugging him further into your breast. He complied willingly, for a moment but was soon lost over your long flat stomach that he could feel quiver under his tongue.

He adored how nervous you were and how much you wanted it all at the same time.

‘Relax Y/N. We can stop whenever you want’ Cillian said reassuringly but stopping was the last thing you wanted him to do.

‘Don’t stop, it feels good’ you huffed out as you could barely focus your eyes as you looked down at him just as his hands melted into your panties and lifted you up by the ass in order to take them off.

His face was so close to your aching core and you gave up trying to watch him when your vision blurred from the throbbing heat wave through your body.

When Cillian finally pulled down your lace panties you heard a high pitched squeal that, a moment later, you realised came from your clenched teeth.

‘Take me Cillian, please’ you repeated at this moment and Cillian hesitated as long as he could, almost saying something but not being able to express the thought.

You could see that he was holding back. He was still reluctant and it wasn’t until you arched your back suggestively that he gave into you.

The width of his shoulders pushed your knees apart, opening you wide for him as he kissed you just above your core, causing you to moan.

You shuddered at his hot breath against your pussy and soon felt his fingers join in, running gently over your soaking mound.

Then, finally, you shouted, a gasp and yell all wrapped up together, as his wet tongue lapped at you, long steady strokes over your entire wetness while he held your pussy with two of his fingers.

It felt sensational and it was difficult for you to keep quiet. Luckily, both of Cillian’s children were out and you could be as loud as you wanted to be.

‘Cillian, oh god’ you moaned as his tongue circled around your clit, flicking at it, then returned lower to slide inside you as far as he could go, then back up again to your clit.

Your hips involuntarily started pushing up against him and it wasn’t long until the feeling of him pleasing you like this became too much.

‘Don’t stop’ you moaned as he used his hands to spread you open even wider while circling your clit.

You bucked, writhing against him as his tongue ran over your clit.

As his tongue kept on at you, you felt yourself climbing and climbing and climbing towards an unfamiliar feeling. It was intense and was unlike anything else you had ever felt before. You knew what it was, but yet, you didn’t expect it. Not so quick and not by him just using his tongue and fingers.

When he finally sucked your clit into his mouth, you were sent over the edge. ‘Oh god Cillian, fuck’ you moaned as your orgasm washed over you and your legs began to quiver as he continued to suck and lick until you slowly calmed down.

‘That was quick’ Cillian chuckled and you couldn’t help but laugh and cry all at the same time.

‘Oh Jesus…that…I didn’t…I didn’t expect that’ you huffed out, causing Cillian to laugh and look at you with some confusion.

‘What did you expect?’ he wondered as he pulled his t-shirt over his head in readiness for what was to come yet.

His body was simply perfect and you couldn’t help but stare at him for a moment.

‘I just didn’t think that I could come like this’ you eventually whispered and, without responding to your comment, Cillian moved up and kissed your lips hard and you took it with a moan as you let your fingers rake down his long torso and undid his jeans in one fast motion that was done before he knew what happened.

‘I want to feel you inside me’ you whispered into his lips and he painfully sighed and kissed you again, both his arms held him above you on either side of your waist. Your hands worked his jeans and briefs down just enough for you to release his tremendously hard cock and you pulled him directly over her.

Cillian looked down into your face that radiated heat and hunger. You bit your lip as you let one of your arms free and clutched the back of Cillian’s neck and engulfed yourself in his mouth again. Just as your tongue glided over his, h couldn’t hold back any longer and he drove his hard cock into you.

‘Oh god yes’ you moaned. You were so wet he barely had to push himself into you although your tightness made both of you wince in pleasure.

‘Fuck you are so tight’ Cillian groaned before he bit down on his lip as he ventured deeper into you. He shut his eyes momentarily to manage to catch his heart before it pounded out of his chest.

You inhaled sharply and, just as you did, those last few inches of Cillian’s hard cock were completely enveloped in you. You clutched your ankles behind his and gripped his back with your short, unmanicured nails.

The ecstasy came in quick hot waves that they were thrown into together every time Cillian pumped into you or you thrusted up toward him.

Cillian thrusted into you over and over again and you began to moan louder than before. You experienced an uncontrollable urge to howl that you could barely hold back and Cillian shut his eyes and gripped you as tightly as he could manage.

You both used every muscle in your bodies to create one living, writhing creature rather than two. Eventually, you cried out Cillian’s name and he took you with the deepest most passionate kiss he ever possessed as you spiralled into a lazy heap.

You fucked for what appeared like hours and you were so close to your release and so was Cillian.

It wasn’t long until Cillian could feel your walls tightening around him as your moans were getting louder and your breathing became laboured.

‘Don’t come yet’ you huffed out in between moans, which took Cillian by surprise.

But he didn’t argue and nodded, complying with your request.

Nonetheless, he could tell that you were close and increased his speed and moved one of his hands between your legs, rubbing your clit.

‘Oh god!’ you shouted, loosing control as yet another orgasm washed over you.

He continued to thrust into you until you came down from your high, then slowing down his thrusts until he pulled out of you.

‘Stay there’ you said as you turned around and let your body slide off the lounge and kneeling right in front of him.

After you got comfortable enough, you guided his hard and wet cock into your mouth.

‘Fuck Y/N’ Cillian moaned as he watched take him in all the way into the back of your throat.

You moved your tongue up and down his hard shaft firmly before running circles over his tip and continued these movements for while.

Cillian began to struggle to contain himself. Watching you suck his cock like this was too much for him.

You knew he was getting close as his cock began pulsating and you could tell that he was holding back.

‘I want to taste you, all of you’ you said in between your movements and that was all he needed to hear.

Within moments, you could feel one of his hands curling up in your hair, with no force but rather for support.

His breathing was becoming laboured and his head fell back and his eyes closed as, with one loud moan, he filled your mouth with rope after rope of his warm cum.

‘Fuck Y/N’ he groaned as his entire body was pulsating and you continued to lick him clean until he slowly came down from his high.

‘Hmm, I always wanted to do this’ you said with a smirk after swallowing his load.

‘Jesus Y/N’ he gasped and you couldn’t help but giggle slightly before climbing onto the couch with him which is when he pulled you in for another passionate kiss.

‘I am hungry, what about you?’ Cillian then asked all of a sudden, realising what had just happened between you. It was clear to him that, sleeping with you was a mistake but, for some reason unknown to him, all sense of reasonable and proper thought went through the window when you began to undress right there in front of him.

‘Me too’ you said as you watched Cillian pull up his briefs and jeans before he disappeared to order some pizza.

***

‘I suppose we aren’t going to mention this again, right?’ you asked somewhat nervously as you were both dressed and waited for your pizzas.

‘No one can know about this Y/N. I shouldn’t have…’ Cillian said somewhat upset and, before he could finish his sentence, you interrupted him.

‘We…we shouldn’t have’ you chuckled but Cillian felt that, being substantially older than you, he was the one to blame.

‘I shouldn’t have given into you’ he said.

‘Did you enjoy it at least?’ you wondered.

‘I enjoyed it a lot, which makes it even worse’ he told you before asking you the same question.

‘I did, but I am sure you were able to tell’ you chuckled.

‘I was’ Cillian chuckled before informing you that he was glad that his neighbours were on a cruise.

‘Well, it was the best sex I’ve ever had so, even if this was a one of thing, I am glad I took my chances’ you then said which is when the doorbell rang and you knew that your pizzas had arrived.

***

Not long after you ate, you heard the front door barge open and you were a little surprised when you saw Denise walking through it.

‘I take your date didn’t go well?’ you asked, offering her the last two pieces of pizza which she gladly accepted while Cillian went into the kitchen to get Denise a glass of water.

‘I have decided that he is an asshole’ Denise chuckled and, to your surprise, she didn’t appear to be to upset.

‘Want to tell me about it?’ you asked just as Cillian returned from the kitchen but Denise shook her head.

‘Not tonight and not in front of my dad’ Denise laughed and Cillian was quick to excuse himself, giving the two of you some privacy.

‘So how was your evening? I see that dad ordered you some pizza from my favourite pizzeria’ Denise said, wondering what you had been doing.

‘Uhm…yeah…good. The pizza was nice’ you barely managed to stammer.

‘What did you do?’ she then asked.

‘Uhm…we…uhm…ate pizza and we watched a movie’ you quickly blurted out after not being able to think of something else as you glanced at the two empty wine glasses in front of you.

‘You watched a movie, ate some pizza and drank some wine…with my dad? Weirdo’ Denise then chuckled and you simply shrug your shoulders.

‘Yeah, your dad is nice, so why not?’ you huffed out somewhat embarrassed.

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#cillian murphy smut #cillian murphy imagine #Cillian Murphy x Reader #cillian murphy #cillian x fem!reader #cillian murphy x you #cillian murphy x y/n

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winchestershiresauce · 3 years

Text

Don’t Leave My Mind

Summary: Daryl hadn’t visited you in Hilltop for a while, but the sex was worth the wait.

Daryl x F!Reader

2158 words

Warnings: NSFW, smut, oral sex (female receiving), swearing

If you interact with this in any way, including reading, you are agreeing that you are over the age of 18.

When you and Daryl got together, you'd learned rather quickly that he wasn't a big fan of public displays of affection. Luckily, it also didn't take long for you to realize that he more than made up for that behind closed doors.

You were reminded of this one afternoon when he'd made his way to Hilltop after not having stopped by in a couple weeks. You knew he was out doing his thing, living in the woods and looking for any sign of Rick, but you had to admit you'd missed him. When he snuck up on you as you did your gardening in one of the community plots, you were ecstatic and relieved to see him, but it was quickly replaced with worry when he'd grabbed your hand, stated, "Need to talk to you," and dragged you into the trailer you called home.

The moment the door slammed behind him, you turned to face him and ask what was going on. You were sure something had gone horribly wrong, or was about to go horribly wrong, until he clasped his hand behind your head and pulled your mouth hungrily to his. You let out a muffled sound of surprise against his lips, and he pulled away. Using both hands to push your hair back and frame your face, he held you in place. You searched his eyes for signs of worry or distress, but were surprised not to find any.

"Daryl, what's the matter?" You gently held his wrists as you looked up into the face of the man you loved.

"Nuthin'. Missed you," he mumbled as he placed a kiss to your forehead.

"I missed you too. I always do, but you said you needed to talk to me. What's wrong?"

"What's wrong is I ain't tasted you in weeks, woman," he growled, diving in to nip at your neck. He shifted so one of his hands dropped to your lower back and he pressed your body into his. You couldn't help the groan that escaped as you felt his hard length press against your center and before you knew it, you were suffocating him with hungry, sloppy kisses.

As you grabbed his face in your hands so that you could push your mouth feverishly against his, he held your body flush against his. Without stopping for breath or to see where you were stepping, Daryl walked you backwards until the backs of your legs hit the bed. Before you'd even realized he'd pulled away, he had your shirt off and his mouth was back on yours again. His tongue slid over yours, mapping the inside of your mouth like it was new to him. He pulled the left cup of your bra down to expose your breast, and you cried out as he wrapped his lips around the pert nipple.

"Fuck, Daryl," you whined as you clawed at the hem of his shirt, desperate to pull it off of him and feel his bare skin against yours. He groaned at your words and moved his mouth off your nipple to switch his ministrations to the other, immediately grabbing and kneading the breast he'd just left alone. When you finally managed to get a hold of the hem of his shirt and pull it off, the momentary separation only spurred him on further.

He pushed you back onto the bed, moving to kneel on the floor next to it. You sat up on your elbows to watch as he unceremoniously worked to unbutton, and help you shed, your jeans. He pulled them down your legs and sat back on his heels to admire the view of you splayed out before him, your panty-clad pussy right at his eye level. As he ran his rough, calloused fingertips up your soft thighs, you saw the way he looked at you as if he was still surprised that you were real. No matter how long the two of you were together, he never could believe that someone as soft and kind and sensual as you were could see value in someone like him. But he saw the way you looked at him, too. People could say anything without meaning it but no one could fake the way your eyes sparkled when he made you laugh, or the way you bit your lip when you didn't think he could see you staring at him as he worked with his hands. He knew because he looked at you the same way, whether you were working to keep up morale with those around you or laying, mostly naked, on the bed in front of him.

Seeing him lost in thought as he dragged his hands up and down your thighs and stared somehow simultaneously at you and through you, you reached out for him. You put one hand on either cheek and leaned forward to kiss him. It lacked some of the desperate hunger your kisses contained earlier, but adoration was simply laced in with the lust. He got up just enough to lean over you, kissing you as he laid you back down on the bed. The kisses he placed down your body, starting with your neck and collarbone and moving down to the only article of clothing you still wore, were both soft and steeped with need. He moved so excruciatingly slowly down your torso that by the time his kisses peppered the waistband of your panties, you were holding your breath with anticipation.

You could feel that you were wetter than you'd been in quite a long time as he continued to leave unhurried open-mouthed kisses across the front of your simple white cotton panties. The warmth of his mouth on your clothed mound was almost more than you could handle. With the way your now-damp panties did little to shield your pussy from his hot breath as he hovered over where you needed him most, you were sure you were going to lose your mind. It took everything in you, but you could tell that Daryl needed this slow, intentional dance to reconnect with you, so you refrained from pressing his face into your core where you wanted him.

Luckily, allowing Daryl the time and space to reconnect with your body was more than good for both of you. You really couldn't see a downside to the way he slowly teased his tongue over your inner thighs until it met the elastic that held your panties in place. He traced the outline with his tongue, torturing you with the anticipation of having his mouth just a few inches away from the wet hot need that awaited him. When the rough stubble on his chin tickled the sensitive spot on your inner thigh, your body involuntarily tensed as you waited for him to touch you the way that you needed. You couldn't help the full body shudder when he finally pulled the crotch of your panties aside and dipped his tongue into the wet space between your lips.

"Oh, God." You hadn't even noticed right away that it was your voice moaning those words, you were so entranced by the delicate and tantalizing movements of Daryl's tongue along your slit. He flattened his tongue and dragged it over your hole and up before he made it into a point and flicked it over your clit. If there was one thing you knew for sure, it was that the man loved to eat pussy. In fact, you weren't sure who loved it more when he ate your pussy: you or him.

He put all he had into the task at hand, licking all around your entrance, labia, and clit before flicking over the bundle of nerves with the tip of his tongue, and slipping two of his fingers inside to caress your g-spot. You writhed with pleasure as he placed sloppy, wet, open-mouthed kisses over your aching clit. It felt like he was trying to lap up all your wetness before you could make more, and he paid so much attention to his work that you knew there could be nothing else on his mind. Not that there could be anything else on yours either, with the way you panted and whined at the way he fucked you magnificently with his fingers and gave you a thorough tonguing.

When he slid a third finger into you, stretching you out deliciously before slamming unrelentingly into the sensitive nerves on the top wall of your cunt, it knocked the breath out of you. Your vision darkened for a moment and you saw stars, your whole body tensing stiffer than you thought possible in preparation for the onslaught of your pending orgasm. "Fuck," you panted over and over like it was a mantra.

"Mmm, cum fer me, Y/N," Daryl growled against you, so close and so deep that you felt the vibrations shoot through your nerves like electricity through a live wire. That was all it took, knowing he wanted to feel you cum just as desperately as you wanted to cum was enough to set off your orgasm as if it were the earthquake that triggered the tsunami.

Your walls fluttered and clenched around his fingers as he worked you through your climax with fervor. You screamed, entirely unable to care about who might hear, which drew a deep moan from Daryl. Precum leaked out of his tip and he worried for a moment that he might cum in his pants like a teenager.

"Oh, fuck," you gasped as your body began to relax and your breathing attempted to return to normal. Daryl climbed up on the bed and hovered over you, letting out a deep grunt. His cock was aching to be inside you but he wanted to let his desperation die down just enough that he wouldn't cum the second he slid through your slick wetness.

You ran your hands up his sides as you simultaneously came down from your high and got riled up again. He dropped his mouth to your throat, kissing with less fervor but more intention than before.

"You gonna fuck me, Daryl?" you asked as you moved to undo his pants and reach your hand inside. He hissed as your thumb brushed over the swollen head of his cock, and you smirked, taking that reaction as an affirmative.

He groaned into the crook of your neck as you wrapped your hand around his shaft. You grinned and placed a kiss to the side of his head, loving the effect this all was having on him. You pulled your hand away for just a moment to push his jeans down his hips and over his ass, allowing you to pull his stiff cock out of its confines.

"Ugh, wanna be inside ya," he grumbled as he pulled away to stand up. He slid his jeans the rest of the way off so that you were both naked, and he climbed on top of you again.

"Wanna feel you inside me," you mewled. As he pressed a firm but loving kiss to your lips, he guided his cock to your slick and waiting entrance. He hummed in delight as he sunk into you. He moved slowly to let you adjust to him, but you needed him. You wrapped your legs around his hips and jerked your pelvis up toward his, thrusting him in to the hilt.

"Fuck me," you pleaded. Feeling you wrapped tight around his aching cock fanned the flames of his desire and he smashed his lips into yours. You kissed him back hard as you rocked your hips up to build friction between you. He growled into the kiss when you clenched your walls around his cock, bucking his hips forward and thrusting into you. This started a relentless pace as your body felt folded so that you could kiss his sweet mouth as he fucked you senseless. You hooked your ankles together and moved your legs further up his back to tilt your hips up and give him a better angle, and you keened in ecstasy as the tip of Daryl's cock slammed into your sweet spot.

"Gonna cum again," you cried as you felt yourself begin to flutter around him.

He gave a chesty growl as he fucked you with purpose. You took a deep sharp breath in as your second orgasm hit you like a brick wall. His thrusts became short and rough as you spasmed and came around his cock, and soon he was following you over the edge. He slammed into you deep and hard then stilled, and you felt him pulse as he came inside of you.

"I love you, Daryl," you panted as he collapsed on top of you, his softening cock still inside.

"Love you," he grumbled into your chest and you couldn't help but grin. You were definitely glad he'd come home to you, even if you knew the woods would call him back.

#daryl dixon x reader #daryl dixon fanfiction #the walking dead #twd fanfiction #twd fanfics #daryl dixon smut #twd smut #daryl x reader

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tnystrk-exe · 3 years

Text

Estocolmo 3

Hannibal x Reader

Masterpost

First Chapter

Warnings: 18+ thigh riding, in a public setting, degration, cockwarming

Word count: 6k

Chapter Three

Maybe you hadn’t thought through about going to Hannibal’s dinner party. In the moment you had just missed the sound of his voice. His touch… Okay, you were motivated by other things than how much fun you would have at this little dinner party of his.

However you had to pull a lot of strings and work extra shifts, just so your bosses would even consider letting you off for a couple days. You were a valuable worker, one that would damage them to lose, but pettiness didn’t know any bounds. The stress was adding up. Still you trudged through it all. Not one to ever want to end up on Hannibal’s bad side.

You didn’t like making the perfect, polite ones angry. Loud anger you could handle. You were used to it. Quiet anger was just upsetting. He’d be upset you let him down, but he wouldn’t say it right. A soft sigh followed by a half meant it’s okay would probably be the most he’d give you. Disappointing him was a no go.

“I can’t wait for you to leave.”

“You’re so good at making me feel loved.”

“You know I do!” She laid back in your bed, arm’s comfortably behind her head, “But since you planned yourself a date. I did too.”

You grabbed clothes and threw them into a small duffel bag. “The chick from work?”

“God I wish. Can't work up the courage.”

“Don’t tell me you called up Reggie,” you laughed.

“Don’t tell me you got called up by Hannibal,” she mocked your voice. “Look! We’re a team! You can get dicked by someone that doesn’t deserve you. And I’ll romance a very pretty woman the entire weekend.”

“When is she getting here?”

“I’m shooting the text the second you’re out that door.”

You sighed, “You replace me so easily.”

“Oh baby,” she cooed, “Remember who’s leaving who.”

“A couple of days. You could be lonely for a few days.”

Alex walked you out. Stressing that you had to text her throughout your drive. It was only a three hour drive, but a lot could happen within that time.

All in all it wasn’t a bad trip. Monotonous without your usual partner in the passenger seat, but not bad. Your nerves bit at you. Hannibal’s social presence really was everything to him. Your head ran though countless ways you could mess up the night. Ultimately you wouldn’t, you knew that, but your brain sure did like to torture you with the idea.

“Everything will be fine,” you told yourself as you parked alongside the manor. Staying in the car for a moment you built yourself up. It was Hannibal. He knew about your home life. How you took your coffee. The things you’ve allowed him to do to you. Probably some understanding of things that he hadn’t done to you yet. A knock on your window pulled you out of your thoughts.

Opening the door you got out of the car.

“You weren’t thinking of running away, I hope,” Hannibal greeted.

“I wasn’t. Nerves,” you admitted. “It’s usually just the two of us, y’know…”

“Darling,” he scoffed, adjusting a piece of your hair, “I have no doubt in my mind that my companions wouldn’t adore you as much as I do.”

You moved to grab your bag, only for Hannibal to immediately take it from you. “You say that now, but that’s only because you’ve become accustomed to that certain charm I have at three in the morning after a night of studying. I’m not sure I can be as adorable to all of your friends.”

“Anyone that thinks otherwise has no place in my home.” Hannibal grabbed your hand in his own, leading you to the manor.

Once the front door closed, he wasted no time pulling you close. The kiss was long and rough. Both attempting to make up for lost time in the limited minutes you had. A soft moan from you made him press you against the door, the bag that had been in his hand long forgotten. His hand pressed lightly against your throat as he pushed a knee in between yours.

It was a long while before he pulled away. He rested his forehead against yours. “I’ve missed my favorite plaything,” He spoke into the shared air, “You’ve been away so long.”

“Your favorite?” You asked, looking at him dazed.

He smiled, mischief in his eyes. “I’d wager they couldn’t kiss you so well you’d look at them like they hung the stars after.”

“I do not!”

“Of course you don’t, darling.” He picked up your bag. “Come, we should start getting dressed.” You followed Hannibal up the stairs to his room. Apparently yours too, at least for the next couple of nights, since he emptied the contents of your bag into an empty dresser drawer. “You’re more than welcome to explore if you do get uncomfortable. I know meeting a sea of people can feel overwhelming.”

“I’m just afraid I’ll be out of place.”

“You’re exactly where I want you to be,” he disappeared into the walk-in closet, “The other’s are decent enough people. However, it makes sense that such divine beauty doesn’t fit in amongst commoners. I’d never dream of you finding yourself their equal.”

You walked over to examine the drawings he had hung on the wall next to his bed. “I’m not sure I’m worthy of such high thought.”

He came back, placing the suit and dress onto the bed. Standing behind you, he wrapped his arms around you, resting his head on your shoulder. “I really do mean it, beloved. You’re strong and intelligent. As much as I’d like to, you won’t allow me to pull strings and help you. That’s more than most of the crowd coming over tonight. They haven’t faced hardships like yourself and I. Don’t allow yourself to be treated less than and, please, tell me if anyone makes you feel that way.”

You turned your head, kissing his cheek. “I’m not sure I believe it, but I’m grateful for the thought.”

“I simply must make it my mission to prove it.” He inhaled deeply, “You’ve changed your perfume?”

“I liked the one you bought,” you said simply, getting out of his arms, you looked at the dress he had gotten you. The piece of fabric was easily the most expensive thing you owned now. It didn’t match his suit, but the two certainly complimented each other. “You really didn’t have to.”

“I want to,” he went to open another dresser drawer, pulling out a small box, “Consider it all a graduation present. You worked hard and deserve a reward for it. We didn’t get a chance to see one another before you left.”

“You’ve had these since then?” You asked.

“Of course. How could I resist an opportunity to find you a gift? And with Alex so graciously allowing me to buy you a dress, I figured tonight would be a wonderful time to give you your gift.” He opened the jewelry box.

“Hannibal,” you gasped quietly, the jewelry glimmered brightly, “It’s beautiful.” Usually you weren’t one for objects, but this was also the most thoughtful thing you’ve ever received. Hannibal had taken the small bits he knew of you and picked out the perfect pieces of jewelry for you. It was the feeling of being known so well that made it special.

“The second I saw this set I couldn’t help but think of my darling girl. Would you like me to put the necklace on you now?”

You quickly shook your head, “After I get dressed, please. I wouldn’t want to risk dirtying it while I’m getting ready.”

“In that case, I’ll show you where you can get ready.”

You grabbed the things you needed to make yourself look presentable and followed Hannibal to the bathroom. To your surprise he started to undress after he hung up his suit and your dress. You shrugged it off and set your stuff on the counter, you were more than comfortable with him and you and Alex had taken to doing similar in your cramped bathroom early mornings. The shower turned on while you took out your makeup. His humming filled the otherwise quiet room.

When you were pleased with how your makeup looked, you moved on to fussing with your hair. The shower shut off and your eyes wandered briefly in the mirror. You watched the show as he dried off his chest and followed the towel up as he dried his hair. He caught your eye, brow raised, you shrugged and sent a wink his way.

You got undressed, tossing your clothes in the hamper as you did. Walking over to the dress you felt the fabric between your fingers, studying the intricate pattern that was sown on to it.

“You don’t like it, darling?” Hannibal asked as he buttoned his shirt. “There’s another in the closet, but I was hopeful you’d like this one. You'd look stunning.”

“Admiring,” you stated simply, “Wait there’s another?”

“There’s a show, I’d like to see tomorrow. I figured it could be an outing for us.” He checked himself over before styling his hair. “This is ‘Making it worth my while’ as Alex said.”

“Han, you know better than to listen to Al.” You sighed, “I’m grateful, I honestly am. It’s just embarrassing. I really can’t give you anything in return.”

Hannibal came over to you, holding one of your hands in his. “They’re simple trinkets of my affection. In the end they all mean nothing. YN, you grace me with your presence and time, which is something that can never be repaid in form. I hold you dearly, your time is more than I deserve.”

You stood on the tips of your toes kissing him gently. There was all the time later for a rougher touch. Now you just wanted to feel him pressed close against yourself. A brief flick of thought asked if you really wanted this to just be a fleeting thing between friends. Pulling away, you gave him one final kiss to the side of his mouth.

“You’re allowed to give me one gift a month,” you teased, as you grabbed his tie and set to work on tying it for him. “You’re not my sugar daddy, as much as Alex wishes you were.”

“And you’re welcome to set as many rules as you’d like when it comes to this. However, what’s forcing me to follow them?” His hands grazed along your sides, “We both understand who makes the rules, don’t we little one?”

The part of you that had become accustomed to that particular tone, faltered slightly. “Hannibal, we’re not always in sessions,” you reminded him as you tightened the tie, “You can’t just have your way.”

“Why not?”

You shook your head, annoyed, “Or you can do what you’d like. It’s your wallet after all.”

“I’m sorry,” he apologized immediately, “I don’t want to offend you.”

You let it go, there was no use to fight over this. “It’s okay, you’re only teasing right?”

“May I please see you in the dress?” He asked, lightening the mood.

You turned, returning to the piece of elegant fabric. Carefully you pulled it on. He really was excellent when it came to fashion. The dress hugged the right places and accentuated everything wonderfully. Hannibal stepped behind you once again. Zipping the back for you, his fingers trailing up as he did. Carefully, he moved your hair to the side as he fixed the necklace in place. Dipping his head down, he kissed that spot on your neck he had quickly learned turned you to putty in his hands. You leaned against him, angling your neck to give him better access as a soft moan escaped. His teeth grazed gently against your neck, he seemed to toy with the idea of making a mark before backing away. As much as he’d enjoy to see it blossom, he knew you had many first impressions to make.

You whimpered at the loss of contact. Suddenly realizing just how much you had missed him.

“I know, little one,” he sighed, pressing a kiss on the side of your ear, “but we have a night to get through. After this, I belong to you. We will have all tomorrow for each other.”

“Promise?”

“Promise.”

The dinner party was beautifully done. Of course it was. Hannibal never spared any expense, let alone when he was trying to impress. He had introduced you to a couple people, they were nice enough, but you just couldn’t find a connection with them. You definitely steered clear of Bedelia. That woman was intimidating to a whole other degree. Definitely someone you could actually see Hannibal going after. You wondered why he didn’t.

An hour into the dinner party, you slipped away. He had said you could explore and honestly, without him you weren’t much for conversation. You had already gotten a snide look for saying you worked at a bar on nights, but they didn’t hold much interest for you either. All the conversations you had heard were meaningless droning. People constantly trying to one up another or bragging about something new they acquired or some business deal.

So it was safe to say no one noticed your absence. Well maybe one extremely observant man.

You found yourself in his library, taking residence in a nook next to a window. Hannibal’s sketch book in your lap as you looked over his drawings. Each drawing looked like he must have spent hours on it. You marveled at his talent, watching the range go from almost romantic to grouesome. Some things could be recognized as his take on art pieces, and landscapes, while others seemed to be originals. The originals were darker in nature, but you supposed it made sense. He saw death as something comforting and could be considered beautiful. Of course it would translate into his pieces.

The door opened, revealing the man that occupied your thoughts at the moment. “Is everything alright, darling? No one bothered you, I hope.”

You smiled up at him. “I’m fine. I just wanted a break, I’m getting a little bit of a headache.”

“Oh?” He touched your forehead with the back of his hand, “Are you feeling well?”

“I’ll go back in a moment,” you promised himas you brought his hand down to press a peck onto it, “Go enjoy your party.”

“They can keep themselves entertained for a while.” He took a seat next to you, pulling you to rest against him. “I could use a moment too.”

You couldn’t stave off the smile that played on your lips to get to have him to yourself. He made you feel comfortable and honestly you were out of your element at this party. Hannibal rested his head against the wall. That left his neck vulnerable and you couldn’t resist placing a kiss on it.

“Why must you insist on acting up when we are alone, darling girl?” He hummed quietly, his hand entertained itself absentmindedly drawing things on your thigh.

“I missed you,” you insisted. “Not just like that. We used to spend a lot of time together.”

“It has been a long time. I’m sorry about that.”

“I had your number too. I’m not completely out of blame.”

“Well, you’ll find a way to make it up to me.” He tugged you closer, “You’re too far.”

You straddled one of his thighs, placing your hand on his shoulders. “I’m sure you have a couple ideas of how.”

“A couple.”

Leaning in you caught him in a kiss. His hand started to trail lower, you caught him by the wrist before he got to his destination, placing his hand back on your hip. With his original plan voided, he bounced his thigh against you, the hands on your hips helping you grind down. You couldn’t help the moan you let out. Letting him continue until you remembered the party happening not so far away.

“Hannibal,” you whined against his lips, “Not right now.”

“But you sound so sweet, darling, don’t mind them.” He continued his earlier assault on your neck, this time not thinking twice before sucking his mark onto it. “You look so beautiful tonight. I know you can give me one before we’re missed, you’re always so good for me. Don’t you want to be good?”

The growing lust clouded your judgement. Hannibal’s soft words and the gentle but perfect rhythm he was working on made it hard to find any reason to argue.

“Yes, daddy,” you sighed softly, “I want to be good for you.”

The door opened again, followed by a dramatic gasp, “Hannibal, having dessert before the rest of us?” The strange man eyed you, “Plan on sharing?”

Hannibal had been quick to tug down the dress that had rode up, keeping you safe from prying eyes. “Unfortunately, I’m not one for sharing. If you don’t mind waiting in the hall. I’ll meet with you in a second.”

“Oh, I’d much prefer to stay. Hello, what’s your name? Is Hannibal keeping you entertained?”

You hid your face against Hannibal’s shoulder, your face burning to the touch.

“Shy thing isn’t she, daddy?”

“I really must insist you leave now,” Hannibal said, the anger evident in his voice.

“Fine, killjoy.” You heard retreating steps and the door closed again.

“Of course out of everyone to find us it was the gossip,” he sighed to himself, dropping a kiss to the top of your head, “I’m sorry about that, love.”

“I told you not now,” you said, pulling away and going back to your seat beside him.

“I know. I’m sorry,” he kissed the back of your hand, “I thought we’d have a couple more minutes before someone looked for us, let alone find us. Let me handle this and then you’ll never see him again.”

You nodded. “Can I go to the room for the night? He made me feel… strange.”

“Darling,” he cupped your cheek, a sad look in his eyes, “this is your home more than anyone else out there. Don’t let him ruin the night for us. I’ll make sure he’s gone and stay by you the rest of the night. Does that sound okay?”

And true to his word he was, he had escorted the man out quickly once he found him. However the Gossip was apparently a fast worker, because a couple people did give you lingering looks. Though they were quick to save face if they so much as thought Hannibal noticed. Whatever they thought didn’t matter. You were two grown, consenting adults that enjoyed each other’s company, be damned what others thought. Throughout the night you kept telling yourself that, hoping to cut the embarrassment short. A couple times you caught yourself, thoughtlessly intertwining your fingers with Hannibal’s when you were less than sturdy. Each time he squeezed your fingers gently, quiet reassurance that he was there for you.

You woke up the following morning. Hannibal was still asleep beside you, it must have been early. He looked sweet in the mornings. Relaxed, not as stiff as he usually was, his hair sticking up in places he’d immediately flatten out once he woke as he greeted you with that deeper more accented voice that accompanied the mornings. You pressed a kiss to his chest, before carefully removing the arm that was sprawled across your stomach.

Looking at the clock, you considered the time. There was enough if you worked quickly. Standing up, you grabbed one of your shirts and shorts. After freshening up, you made your way down to the kitchen.

It was different. You hadn’t toured much of the home, let alone know where anything was, but you gathered your bearings fast enough. The things you needed had been placed somewhat similarly to his old home and you set everything onto the counter. Protein scramble, fruit, and pancakes seemed like a good option today. The pancakes, he had taught you to make when you asked where the box mix was and obviously he wouldn’t stand for you not knowing how to make something so simple from scratch.

Your phone played music as you set to work, washing the used dishes along the way so there wasn’t too much of a mess.

As you were plating the food, you heard Hannibal call out your name.

“Kitchen!” You called out.

He was quick to meet you, “Darling, I could have made you breakfast. You should have stayed in bed with me.”

“I couldn’t sleep any more and you looked too sweet to wake,” you poured two cups of coffee and prepared them to both of your liking, “Figured why not play domestic for a while.”

“How did you like it?” He asked, walking over to take the cup from you.

“Eh well you know, the domestic life,” you shrugged, feeding him a cut strawberry, “I like to let my partner sleep in on Saturday’s and make them comfort breakfasts. Sometimes they ruin breakfast in bed by coming down too early, but what can you do?”

He chuckled around the bite of strawberry, “I’m sorry, beloved. I’ll stay put next time.”

“Yes, you will.” You stood on the tips of your toes to press a chaste kiss to his lips. “But I’m not too angry at you. I enjoy your company.”

His fingers toyed with the hem of your shirt. “Aren’t you usually sporting my shirts on these mornings?”

“I didn’t want to ruin one of them.”

“You couldn’t ruin a thing if you tried. I’ve got more than enough for you to steal away when you go back home too.”

“I only took them, because someone made a habit of messing up my shirts.”

“And your reasoning for keeping them, little one?” He grabbed the plates, “Come along, the mornings have been wonderful recently.”

You grabbed the cups. “You should’ve come and picked them up the same way I had. It’s your own fault they aren’t back where they belong.”

The afternoon was spent in each other’s company. Hannibal had insisted he’d wash the remaining dishes and asked you to pick up his sketchbook and pencils from the library since you were going to find yourself something to read. You did as asked, before returning outside. Setting his things on the table, you went to go sit in a sunny spot of grass.

It wasn’t long until Hannibal rejoined you outside and took a seat.

You glanced up curiously after a while, he was sketching away.

“Anything I can do for you, beloved?” He asked, not looking up from his work.

“Just watching.”

He hummed in response.

Some unease settled in your stomach when you remembered why exactly you were over here. What was the harm in voicing it? “Hannibal?” You waited until he looked up at you, “You’re okay that we haven’t slept together yet? I mean… I know that’s why I am here.”

It was true, the lingering looks you had gotten at dinner, paired with the small embarrassment of realizing one of Hannibal’s love bites got to bloom in front of them all threw you off at night. You had tried to let yourself go, let him have control of you for a while, but you couldn’t go past taking off some clothes and letting your hands feel the other. He didn’t mind when you didn’t want to do more. Always the gentleman. Instead he settled you against his chest, an arm keeping you close, quiet conversation and long breathtaking kisses filled the night.

“I’m not one of those little boys you’ve found,” he stated, seeming to be mildly offended, “I enjoy our quiet moments just as much, if not more. Sex is something else we could do together, nothing more. It’s not everything, little one. You’re not here for that purpose. What I enjoy is your company and I’ll take it any way you give it.”

You tilted your head looking at him closely, he mimicked you, narrowing his eyes at you playfully. That made you laugh softly, you decided he was being honest and not covering up his disappointment with sweet words. Patting the grass next to you, “Sit with me.”

“YN…”

“Please?” You asked, sweetening the pot with a pout.

He shook his head but gathered his things, soon joining you. Resting your head on his shoulder you looked at what he was sketching. The scene was you at the present moment. Half faced toward him, book in hand, completely relaxed, and more perfect than you ever dreamed of being.

“That’s an exaggeration, I’m not that beautiful.”

“That’s where we must differ, my love,” he kissed your temple, “Try as I might I’ll never be able to draw you with the dignity you deserve. It’s a poor imitation of the way I perceive you.”

“You’re a ridiculous man,” you said fondly, “Though I suppose I’d like to keep you around a while longer.”

“Suppose” he scoffed, “ You’d be lost without me.”

You stuck your tongue out at him childishly and went back to your book.

“Darling, I do adore when you take care of yourself, but we’ll be late if you don’t hurry,” Hannibal said, leaning on the bathroom’s door frame already dressed for the outing.

“It’s not my fault you always manage to get the bath perfect,” you groaned, getting out of the bathtub.

Hannibal walked over, grabbing a towel on his way. “I’ll run you another later.”

You took the towel, drying yourself off. It was nice to see a rare impatient Hannibal. There was more to that calm and collected demeanor he usually had. “You’re cute when you’re excited about something. Where are we going?”

“I got us tickets to the opera.”

“Really!” You lit up at that. When he talked about the shows he had seen before, he’d get so much more animated. It would be nice to experience one with him. “Which one?”

“Die Entführung aus dem Serail,” he answered, taking you in with a smile, “but darling, your excitement may go to waste, I’m afraid.”

“I’ll be quick!”

With you keeping your promise and Hannibal’s quick driving, it didn’t take anytime to make it to the opera house. There was time to spare and Hannibal socialized a bit, introducing you to other regulars. You exchanged pleasantries and let Hannibal control the conversation as you looked around the place. Some people you recognized from last night. One person you saw nod towards you whispering something to his companion.

“I didn’t think he’d be one for cradle robbing,” you caught the man say, as he eyed you up, “Lucky man. Reckon I could steal that little piece away?”

You subtly moved closer to Hannibal, feeling the heat rise to your face.

Hannibal turned his attention to you when the others started talking amongst themselves. “Are you alright?” He asked quietly, tucking away a strand of your hair that fell out of place.

“Yeah. I’m great,” you lied, knowing he’d probably take offense to any minute comment made about whatever kind of relationship the two of you had.

“Are you certain?” The tone of voice saying he knew you were hiding something. He always seemed to read you so easily. In that he knew you’d continue to deny anything. “Would you like to go to our seats now? The show should start in a couple of minutes.”

“Yes, please.”

Hannibal grabbed your hand in his, leading you away from the crowd. To your surprise he took you to a private balcony above the rest of the audience seating. “Since, it’s your first time, I figured privacy would do us well. No distractions,” he paused for a moment, “No one to get into that pretty little head of yours.”

“I just don’t enjoy all the looks and comments,” you sighed, allowing him to pull you down onto the seat with him. “I love spending time with you. It’s just soured by people that don’t mind their own.”

“It’s not ideal, but we mustn’t let them ruin our nights. With this kind of community, people make assumptions and talk. Darling, I really do insist you tell me when someone makes you upset.”

“I know, I know. Guess I should have braced for it more. I’m just not used to these kinds of things. When we’re alone it’s easy to just exist together. Just us.”

“I understand completely. However, I do enjoy that we finally got to leave the house. You look absolutely breathtaking tonight.”

You smiled at that, “Well, you do seem to have an eye for what suits me.”

“That, I do.”

Leaning your head on his shoulder, you breathed the comforting scent of his cologne, “I’m sorry I let them get to me when we're supposed to be enjoying our time together. It’s not fair to you.”

“They get annoying,” he gave your thigh a gentle squeeze, “Of course you’d take offense for us. There isn’t much we can do besides understand that we’re here for the right reasons. Though, it does get under my skin to see you affected so under my care.”

Soon the crowd made their way to the seats and the lights dimmed to near black. When the music started Hannibal whispered translations into your ear. You got caught up in the story between watching the characters go through their woes and Hannibal’s gentle voice guiding you through every detail. It was easy to see what Hannibal saw at these events. They really were thrilling to watch. Still it wasn’t so much the show, but getting to know another side of the man in question.

You looked at the man beside you, a happy smile plastered on your face. “Thank you for bringing me, Hannibal.”

“Anything for you, my love.”

“Your love?” You challenged teasingly.

A couple times he had thrown around the pet name. You didn’t take it for much. He was a sweet, old fashioned man, you had decided to believe. A sweet nothing that neither of you minded. Still you couldn’t deny the slight softness you felt from the moniker.

“You’ve promised yourself as all mine before,” he reminded you, “and I take no issue in claiming what’s mine.”

“That was said when I was drunk on you.”

“Deny all you’d like, sweet girl, you’re still mine.”

Hannibal tilted your head up slightly to kiss you. You couldn’t find it in yourself to care about why the music crescendoed in that moment. Not when he was kissing you with more passion than you had ever felt. He had a way of making it feel like you were the only beings in existence. Hannibal bit at your lip, asking for more, and you gave it to him without a thought. You’d do whatever he wanted at that moment. Still you couldn’t help grabbing his wrist when his hand found it’s way up your dress. He swallowed the helpless moan that slipped past your lips greedily.

You pulled away from him, your hips grinding onto his hand on their own accord. “Hannibal, I-“

He hushed you, “You’re missing a very important part of the show.” His hand didn’t let up from its ministrations as he continued to translate for you.

You went to cover your mouth with your hand, but Hannibal stopped you short, placing it back at your side. A quick mummer of be good was all he offered, not once stopping the pace he had set. You choked back the moan when he pressed against a spot that had been long neglected since the last time you paid him a visit. The music being so loud was your only safe haven, still, you pressed yourself further into Hannibal, hoping to hide yourself further from any wandering eyes that might look away from the show. Embarrassment and lust built with every thrust of Hannibal’s fingers. The former was getting increasingly easier to ignore as Hannibal pulled you closer and closer to your end. Pressing your face against his neck, you bit at the skin there in a cheap attempt at revenge for what he was putting you through.

Hannibal’s fingers stilled. A quiet chuckle met your ear when he heard your whimper of protest, stopping your hips as you attempted to help yourself. “Such an easy thing to toy with, you're nothing more than my own personal whore.” He didn’t miss the throb around his fingers at those words. “You’d let me use you however I’d like wouldn’t you?”

You gave a lazy nod as he brought his fingers up to your mouth. Eager to please him, hoping he’d let you finish, you opened your mouth and sucked his fingers clean. Behind your back, you felt him working himself out of his pants. Taking his hand away he adjusted your dress higher before pulling you on to his lap. With his other hand the head of his cock teased your clit, you forced yourself not to complain, knowing he’d go on longer if you did. When he finally pushed into you, you couldn’t fight off the moan of contentment as he filled you completely. Turning your head, you caught him in a languid kiss, caught up in only him despite the performance going on.

“Please?”

“What do you need?”

“You.” You shifted your hips slightly, “May I please move?”

“I’m sorry, little one,” you caught the slight upward twitch of his lip when you looked at him in disbelief, “I’d rather use you at my leisure.”

You whined in frustration, leaning against him knowing he’d play a cruel game. This time he offered no translations, keeping you entirely focused on the feeling of him buried deep inside of you doing nothing to help relieve your need for him. When you did manage to distract yourself, he circled your clit and gave a few sharp thrust, just enough to bring you back where he wanted you. His hand continued, changing the rhythm every so often so you’d stay aware of your position.

“I’ll be so good,” you begged helplessly.

“And yesterday you had been so against it despite having our privacy in the library,” he reminded you, pushing in and out of you in a too slow pace, but at least he was moving, “What was it that was missing, hm? The audience that could look up and see me using what’s mine?”

You didn’t know what had changed. Not truely. Maybe it was the couple of glasses of wine you had drunk throughout the day. Perhaps it was just finally getting what you had wanted for so long. Honestly, you couldn’t find yourself to be curious enough to find out.

“I wanna cum,” you told him, swallowing the embarrassment.

“I don’t know, darling, you’ve tried to find comfort with others. I really can’t say I approve of the notion. Suppose, I could just use you for your worth and leave you dry.” He groaned into your ear as you clenched around him, he sped up his thrust, “There’s my good girl, you like the sound of that?”

“Hannibal, please,” you whimpered, “I’ve wanted you for so long.”

“Beg for it.”

“I’ll never look for anyone else again. It was so stupid to think anyone else could make me feel as good as you.” Your breath hitched when he struck deeper, “I've been so desperate for you.”

“That’s all so very sweet, but that’s not exactly what I want to hear.”

You whined quietly as you tried to figure out the right combination of words to get you what you wanted. “I’m just yours… No one else’s… You’re the only one, I’m so sorry…”

“See? Was it so hard to apologize for your misconduct?”

You shook your head.

He pinched your thigh. “Words, darling.”

“No, daddy,” you moaned, as his hands guided your hips to move with him, “But I’ll be good for you now.”

“I still don’t think you deserve to cum, you pathetic thing.”

“You’ll let me?”

Hannibal’s hand grabbed your jaw roughly, making you look at him. “Next time I won’t be so generous. Understood?”

You swallowed down the slight twinge of fear that had worked its way into your system. “Yes, sir.”

He pushed your face away. “Work for it yourself.”

Tag list: @charc0al-grey @songofcosplay

#Hannibal #nbc hannibal #hannibal x reader #slasher x reader #hannibal lecter x reader #slasher imagines #smut

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