#God I wish I wasn’t having so much trouble just sitting down to write

[fur-claws-and-eyeballs]

While looking up movie trivia for The Lost Boys I learned that the original IRL comic store that the Frogs’ was filmed in was destroyed in the Loma Prieta Earthquake in 1989.

The quake was a magnitude 6.9 and the epicenter was something like 14 miles NE of Santa Cruz.

Since then I’ve been trying to think of ways that the 1989 quake could be used as a plot device in a fic.

So imagine 2 years after the movie, in a “The Boys Live!” AU it would be interesting to see the quake used to destroy the sunken hotel. Maybe collapse a sea wall and flood it, boulders fall in and block their tunnels, etc. etc. Now they gotta find a new place to live. Maybe Michael is or isn’t a vampire in this version of the story, maybe they remained friends, or even frenemys. Just gimme the boys like “Heeeeyy, Grandpa Emerson, Miss Lucy, haha, how about that time we tried to kill all of you? That was fun. No hard feelings right? You guys got a basement you’re not using?”

Alternately, the quake reveals those evil ancient vampires from the 2016 sequel comic, and the Boys get kicked out of their home and they have to team up with the Emerson’s and the Frogs to take care of the much bigger threat.

Paul: “My tapes!”

Marko: “My birds!”

Sam: “Who cares about that?! The literal fate of Santa Carla is at stake, here!”

David *weeping over his lost wheelchair*: “Yeah, that too, I guess.”

Perhaps in a different version of the ancient vampires are released story the Boys are dead like in the movie and the EmerFrog gang decides that resurrecting them to be allies in the fight is a good idea.

Or yet in a different story, after killing the Lost Boys they seal their bodies in the caves to ensure that no one tries to resurrect them because they’ve literally had Lost Boys groupies/fang bangers looking to bring them back to life. Then the quake happens and cracks the caves back open, letting bad eggs get to their remains for resurrection.

IDK, just seems like a neat plot device, what with the 1906 quake already having a role in the original story.

#God I wish I wasn’t having so much trouble just sitting down to write #my depression got hands #the lost boys #the lost boys 1987 #text post #writing #fanfiction #headcanon #writing prompt

[monsterfuker3000]

A Lesson in Dining Etiquette ₊˚⊹♡

This is technically a part two to Training Room but can totally be read as a standalone! It took me so long to write this I’m so sorry to my little rats. I love sucking dick. You’re all lucky my boyfriend lives far away because if he were any nearer I’d be busy sucking his dick instead of writing.

Warnings: sub-ish!Leon, afab reader, oral (m and f receiving,) cum eating, Leon wants to be a good boy for you so so bad please tell him he’s been good, not proofread we die like men, I’m sure there’s errors and I’m so sorry but I write with my pussy and not my brain. @cherrifunk babe so sorry this took so long please forgive me. I wrote this with RE2 Leon in mind bc he strikes me as a mf that would love to eat pussy but has no idea where to start.

Word count is 2.7k of Leon being my little honey bear pookie pie

“You want what?”

“Um. . . I’d like lessons, I guess?”

It had been a month since the fateful evening in the training room, and you and Leon were officially dating. In an unexpected twist of events, Leon couldn’t get enough of you after that night. He wanted his cock in you, his hands on your body, his lips and tongue on yours like he needed to fuck you to live. He was needy and whiny, but still impossibly shy. He still had doubts about his own skill, no matter how much you reassured him or reminded him that he made you cum the very first time the two of you had sex together.

Leon’s apprehension paired with his desire to constantly be buried inside you forced you to take the lead most of the time. You’d introduced him to a small handful of positions, but only a couple of them and nothing too crazy. Cowgirl was still his favorite, and he told you that he expected that to stay the case no matter what you showed him.

He’d been especially needy today. The two of you had the day off and decided to make the most of it by going on a date. You’d started the day simple, going to a mall where he promptly dragged you to the bathroom to fuck you from behind as you held on to the sink for dear life, rocking back into his thrusts and cumming down your legs. At the beginning of your relationship, Leon had expressed a worry that he may not be able to keep up with you considering the difference between your experience and his. As you clung to the sink as he rutted into you, you wondered if instead you might be the one to have trouble keeping up with him.

“Fuck, baby, thank you, thank you for letting me fuck you and your pretty pussy, need it all the time, feels so good,” he’d whined, his needy cries contrasting sharply with the way he used his tight grip on your hips to yank you back into each of his thrusts. You were sure that even without the loud moaning from the two of you, just the sharp slap of skin on skin would have still been audible through the bathroom door.

One thing you wished for him was that he would let loose a little. You hadn’t sucked his cock since that first night, and he was terrified of eating you out. It wasn’t that he didn’t want to, God did he want to, but he was embarrassed. He still knew very little. He was fairly certain he knew what to do with his fingers, but he wasn’t sure how to translate it to his mouth.

Tonight, however, he had a couple of beers in him with the pizza the two of you were splitting while sitting on your living room floor. He was tired of waiting.

He finished chewing his last bite of pizza, wiping his hands as it caught in his throat a bit. He was nervous, but he had to do this. He cleared his throat and you glanced at him out of the corner of your eye.

“You okay?” you questioned.

“Can I ask you something?” he countered.

You turned to face him head on and nodded.

“I want. . .” He took a deep breath. “I want you to teach me how to eat you out.”

You choked on your own pizza. “You want what?”

His cheeks reddened. “Um. . . I’d like lessons, I guess?”

You choked down your pizza and softly smiled. “I’d love to do that sweetheart.” You leaned in and pressed your lips to his, tasting the beer on him as he whined into your mouth. He grabbed at you a little clumsily, fisting his hands into your shirt. You laughed lightly and took his hands in yours. You felt them tremble in your grasp. “Hey, baby, you okay?” you asked.

He nodded and tried to lean in for another kiss but you leaned away. “Are you sure? You seem nervous.”

His blush deepened, if it was at all possible. “I just don’t want to disappoint you,” he mumbled. You smiled fondly at him.

“I think I know a good way to calm you down, hm?” His eyes widened as you pushed him to move off the floor and sit on the couch.

“But, but I wanted to help you-“

You cut him off, settling on your knees on the floor in front of him between his legs. “Now, honey, what kind of teacher would I be if I didn’t teach the whole curriculum, hm?

He inhaled sharply and seemed to melt into the couch, making you laugh again. You reached for his belt buckle, seeing that he was already hard beneath his jeans (he’d been hard for about a half hour as he wrestled with his own insecurity, but there was no way in hell he was telling you that.) You undid his belt, hearing it clank as you pulled it free, and signaled to him to lift his hips as you pulled his jeans down just under his ass.

You reached into the fly of his boxer briefs, squeezing his cock and making his hiss as he arched his back.

“Fuck, baby, you trying to kill me?” He ran a hand through his pretty blond hair, mussing it up. You laughed, pulling his boxers down to where you’d left his jeans, leaving him fully exposed.

“Now,” you began, trying and failing to keep the mirth from your voice, “my mouth is going to be full for most of this, so this will be more of a demonstration than a lecture, okay?” He nodded, eyes wide, and you laughed again. You took him in your hand again, lowering your head to gently lick the tip of his cock, making his leg twitch. You then let your mouth fall open, sticking out your tongue to take him fully into your mouth, pressing your tongue to his balls.

“Jesus fuck, babe,” he breathed, one of his hands fisting his own hair and the other digging his nails into his own knee. You pulled off of him.

“Now, Lee, what have we talked about?” He knew you wanted him to let loose, but how were you supposed to tell him you didn’t like something if you couldn’t talk? He asked you as much, and your expression softened at his words. He had his cock down your throat and was still more concerned about your comfort. Still so cute.

“How about this? You let loose, and I’ll tap your thigh three times if I need to stop, okay?” He nodded. “Okay baby, how’s this?” You pulled your hair away from your face, taking his hand in yours and wrapping it around your hair so you could have both hands. “I want you to fuck my throat, Lee.”

“Fuck, you sure?” He asked, his cock jumping at your words and his eyes somehow getting even bigger. You nodded, once again taking him into your mouth and wrapping your tongue around the underside of his cock, hollowing your cheeks. He hissed and bucked his hips shallowly into your mouth, and you would have smiled had your mouth not been full.

You alternated between taking him all the way into your mouth and using your hand to stroke what you couldn’t fit comfortably into your mouth to give your throat a break. Leon looked down at you with that lost puppy look in his big blue eyes, tears pricking the corners.

“Please, please, n-need to cum, baby, feels so good.” You weren’t doing him any favors this time; he was going to have to take what he wanted from you. You pulled almost all the way off his cock sucking just the tip and making him whine in frustration, and something finally snapped in him. He gripped your hair harder, pulling it a bit, and used it to slide your mouth all the way down on his cock, gagging you. Finally. He fucked your mouth roughly, making tears gather in your own eyes, the lewd sounds of your choking filing the room. You could feel his cock twitch in your mouth and you knew he was getting close.

“Please, please please please, just a little more baby I promise, need to use your mouth just a little longer, s-so close” he begged even as he fucked your mouth under his own power. His breath caught in his throat and he came, crying out your name.

He pulled you off of him just enough for you to swallow his load but continued shallowly fucking into your mouth until he came down from his high. His breathing began to even out and became less ragged and he seemed to come to his senses, nearly ripping you off his cock by your hair to be met with your tear-stained cheeks and drool-covered chin.

“Fuck, baby I’m so, so sorry, did I hurt you?” You shook your head, even smiling and letting your mouth fall open to show him you’d swallowed his cum, making him blush. He wiped at your tears, still grimacing a bit.

“Well, Lee, if you still feel the need to make it up to me, we can always continue the lesson,” you teased. Leon smiled and nodded, hoping to God you couldn’t tell how sharply his heart rate had spiked. He pulled his pants and boxers back up, silently noting how easy cleanup had been since you had swallowed.

“So,” he began, "how do you want to do this? Would it be better to go to the bedroom?” You shook your head.

“I’ll just take your place on the couch, Lee. Besides, I think you’d look cute on your knees,” you teased. The light blush on his cheeks deepened significantly, making you laugh. He slid off the couch and onto the floor, allowing you to take his place.

He looked like a fucking vision on his knees in front of you; his hair still wild, eyes stil wet, his cheeks pink and his hands trembling. “Beautiful,” you whispered, and he looked up at you almost rapturously.

Coming back to yourself, you slid forward so your ass was right to the edge of the couch, and Leon reached for the waistband of your shorts without missing a beat. He slid them all the way off, throwing them haphazardly to the ground. You hooked a leg over each of his shoulders as he turned back to you, and he nearly did a double-take at your panties.

They were soaked all the way through, sticky with your slick. Did you get this wet just from sucking him off? Poor thing, you were getting him off but you were left to clench around nothing. He’d have to repay the favor. He exhaled shakily, pressing two fingers into the soaked fabric of your panties, making you gasp as he inadvertently pressed into your clit. His eyes flicked up for just a second to assess your reaction, quickly returning to your pussy. He slowly circled your clit through the fabric, the extra friction adding to the sensation. He pulled his hand away and hooked his fingers into the waistband of your panties to pull them down, throwing them near your discarded shorts and returning to his original position between your legs.

All at once, he realized he wasn’t sure where to go from here. He hooked his arms around your thighs to rest his hands on the tops of them, and tilted his head at you, reminding you of a puppy. You thought for a moment.

“How about this, hm?” You asked. “I’ll show you a couple of things that feel good for me, and you put them together in a way that feels right to you, okay?” Leon hesitated for a moment, but nodded. How was he supposed to know what felt right?

You knew exactly what was going through his head, and smiled softly. “You’ll know what to do, Lee, it’ll be okay,” you reassured him, running your fingers through that fluffy golden hair. “Now, how about you start by just licking it, hm?”

He nodded, still at a loss for words, but obeyed. He lowered his head, never breaking his gaze from yours, and pressed the flat of his tongue over your pussy, dragging it slowly from bottom to top.

Holy fuck, your taste, the way you moaned and pulled softly at his hair. Leon was certain he could spend the rest of his life between your legs and never want for anything else. He brought his head back up for further instructions, absentmindedly licking his lips.

“Good boy, Lee,” you praised him breathlessly. “Now try sucking on my clit.”

He lowered his head back down, attaching his lips to your clit and sucking gently, making your toes curl.

“Fuck, baby, so good for me,” you moaned, tugging at his hair once more. Leon was fairly certain that if he had a tail, it would be wagging right now. This was going far better than he expected. If you wanted him to take the reins, he was going to fucking take them.

He immediately dove back in, taking you by surprise. He slid his tongue into you, fucking you with it and inadvertently pressing his nose right into your clit. He whined high in his throat when you yanked harder at his hair this time, using it to pull him into you harder.

“Jesus Christ, baby, so fucking good,” you whined. What Leon lacked in finesse he made up for tenfold in enthusiasm. Not done exploring yet, he switched courses.

He moved upwards to alternate between sucking your clit and flicking at it with his tongue, just the way he did with his fingers. You cried out loudly, knowing your neighbors wouldn’t be happy with you but completely unable to care. “F-fingers,” you pleaded weakly, hoping Leon would understand what you wanted.

My God, did he. He took one hand off your leg and slid his middle and ring finger into your pussy, curling them to press against your g-spot. He slid them in and out, never ceasing the attention he was giving your clit at the same time. You choked out that you were close, and Leon flicked his eyes up to yours for just a moment. You could swear that if his mouth hadn’t been full, he would have been smiling.

With a final few thrusts and a particularly hard suck at your clit, Leon pushed you over the edge. You came with a loud cry of his name and squeezed your thighs around his head, grinding against his mouth. He never stopped, and the sensation soon became too much. You used the hand you’d tangled in his hair to pull him away as you winced. He whined as you pulled him back, and God, he looked just as fucked out as you felt with his lips and chin covered in spit and your slick and his cock fully hard again.

He wiped messily at his face with his sleeve, nearly making you laugh as he pleaded with you, “Please, more, just one more.” You shook your head.

“Too sensitive right now, Lee. Maybe a little later, hm?” You bent down to press your lips to his, tasting yourself on him. “You did so good for me baby, I’m so proud of you,” you praised him, watching his eyes light up.

“Really? You liked it?” He questioned, once again reminding you of a puppy seeking validation from his owner. So cute. “When can I do it again?” He asked.

You laughed once again. “Give me some time to recover from that one and we can talk, okay?”

You’d taught Leon the importance of aftercare, and it soon became his favorite part of sex. He ran to the bathroom to wet a washcloth to wipe your slick and his spit off you, helping you back into your clothes afterwards. You laid down on the couch afterward, dragging him down with you so he could lay on top of you and bury his face in your chest. You could tell he was tired. He yawned, nuzzling deeper into your embrace.

“Thank you for teaching me,” he mused, the sentence feeling half finished as he started drifting off. You pressed a kiss to the top of his head.

“Of course Lee, now take a nap for me, hm?”

He nodded, the motion making his hair tickle at your face. “I love you,” he mumbled softly.

“I love you too, sweetheart.”

AND IF YOU AIN’T A HOE GET OUT MY TRAP HOUSE

#Spotify #leon kennedy #leon s kennedy #re4 leon #leon kennedy reader #re leon #re2 leon #smut #leon kennedy x reader

[azulsluver]

BULLET WOUND

tw. yandere, graphic violence, blood/gore, slight body horror and cannibalism, mentioned puking, tongue fucking a wound.

cw. reader is nakey but no explicit parts described. read with caution

Authors note♛ I won’t lie, I got this idea because I was looking through really old docs of writings I would do because I was so into yandere genre at a young age. This is also an excuse to write something nasty with Jade<3

He made you think you had the perfect chance. That you outsmarted the Leech Jade in a game of cat and mouse. It all went too smoothly for your taste, too good to be true that he’d leave you in a room unsupervised and thoroughly checked. 

You’d lay on the cold dirty floor of a warehouse, far from Jade’s quarters. If anything, you’re happy to get away from there. Whatever happens to you now, it’ll be better than staying in that god-forbidden house he called home.

Your chest rises and falls in a slow pace, shuffling less to avoid the stinging pain on your knee. A wound, bullet wound to be exact, dried blood staining against your skin. Leaning on the pole you’re tied to, you take the time to slow your breathing. Being chased down by a bunch of gangsters who recognized you as Jade’s ‘partner’, much to your dismay. There was a reason you wished to get away from him, everything he touched, spoke to, and looked at only leads to trouble. You didn’t want to live a life on the run, no matter how powerful and influential Jade has in his shady business, you’re just waving a useless white flag.

And it wasn’t just his job that started the mistrust, bringing home half beaten men to your feet so they can apologize for grazing your shoulder. Shaking off the fact his threats still lie deep in your head, you didn’t have much to say when entering the relationship. You simply wanted nothing to do with Jade. Nothing.

Your body slightly trembles the longer the pounding of the floor breaks you out of thought. Sitting up more straight and pulling your knees to your chest, wincing at the sharp movement. Silence was only for a second before gunshots rang in the air, getting closer and closer. And closer. Until the door in front of you thumps loudly, a man screams from behind it until his voice gurgles. Thickly swallowing your saliva as blood pools underneath the cracks.

The door is kicked open. Now you’re really scared.

Jade’s leg hovers in the air for the moment, his eyes frantically looking around the room until he settles on you. The pupil of his eyes expand much larger, his body quaver for a short time before moving. Long strides so eerily, intention full of daunt without even muttering a word.

His expression is detached, a look you only saw once when rejecting his advances in private.

“This,” He crouches down to your level, “is what happens to naughty humans who don’t do as they’re told. See, bad people will come looking for you just to hurt me.” You have the urge to spit in his face. Cooing to you like a disobedient child, you’re sure he doesn’t see you as an equal.

The strands of your hair sticks to the sweat of your face, eyeing Jade who caresses a thumb over your wound. Jerking when he finally decides to press it down, your knee hardening like rocks as you let out a scream.

“Azul said you were troublesome. These men were allies who soon saw the opportunity to strike behind our backs. He thinks it’s all you’re fault you know.” You can’t understand a word he’s saying, throwing your head back as he continues his assault.

“Then he asked me, what can I do to prevent this from happening again?” Jade stops, small droplets of blood on his thumb seep under his nail. Your body seizes up by small jolts of pain, shuddering when he pulls your knee closer to him. “I said, a fish has the luxury of swimming mindlessly in the sea. Without their fins,” His mouth hovers over your wounded knee.

“They’re quite useless.” 

Jade lolls his tongue out to swipe the dried blood off, making you blabber out nonsense of his muscle touching your naked knee. It burns like a ring fire, drawing it out slow as you uselessly kick your other leg. With how weak your body was, the impact was much of a puppy kicking it’s way out of danger. You scream out Jade’s name, tell him you’re sorry as drool rolls down your lips. Body having no control to find a way to ease the pain as he finally worms a way into your wound.

The bullet that was pushed down deep into your flesh wiggles like a blade. He went as far as to allow his bottom row teeth to chew up your knee even further, bits of flesh tear from your body as he swallows drops of blood and meat. Tongue curling to get a hold of the bullet, your eyes roll to the back of your head as your chest racks another scream. The ropes around your wrist burns, thrashing your head from side to side; refusing to look at his doings.

Your knee is soaked in whatever fluids, but the warmth and force of his tongue is long gone. A loud clink hits the floor, then did you open your puffy eyes. Face sticky with sweat and drool, you stare endlessly at the stained bullet on the ground.

Standing up from the floor, Jade retrieves a handkerchief from his pocket to dab at his messy lips. You make no noise, voice hoarse from the yelling and crying.

“I may have gone overboard. But a wounded fin was never meant to look pretty.”

“Huh...” You gazed down to look at your twitching knee.

Bone sticking out with chewed flesh hanging on by a string of skin. It’s sickening to look at, with bile raising in your throat. Jade watches with a usual smile at your gaping mouth. He made sure when he pushed the bullet down it fractured your knee, twisting in a odd angle that can only be repaired professionally. The wound gradually opened more because of his assault, leaving the wound big enough to stick three fingers in.

A finger lifts your chin up, Jade softly speaking in a more sincere tone at your empty-ish expression. Numb.

“But I take good care of my things. No matter how ugly.”

#yandere twst #yandere twisted wonderland #yandere twisted wonderland x reader #twst #twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland x reader #jade leech x reader #dead dove do not eat

[malarkgirlypop]

MEDIC Part 18 (Donald Malarkey x Fem!OC)

Ah yes my favourite gif of all time finally has come into play, how exciting! We're in France Baby! It's a change of pace and scenery how fun! I feel we are nearing the end and then remember how much I have actually written and then I'm like oh nope we still got a bit bahaha. I'm doing a short chapter cause I was writing it and it was like a good 4k words so I thought it best to just split it into two, I know some people prefer shorter chapters.

Based on the HBO show and the actors who portray the characters, no hate to anyone involved.

Tag list: @next-autopsy, @panzershrike-pretz, @xxluckystrike, @bucky32557038ww2 (if you want to be added let me know🥰)

The cold wind whipped at my face making me hunch further down into my jacket. We had finally arrived in Haguenau after the long journey, everyone seemed to be restless. Keen to be indoors and out of the biting elements. Don stood in the back of the truck, his mood appearing low. I wanted to ask him what seemed to be troubling him but there was no privacy on the back of the vehicle. His smiles weren’t as bright, not quite reaching his eyes. I chewed my lip nervously watching the man. They had made him Staff Sergeant, but he didn’t seem pleased. 

“Hey guys.” A cheery voice called from behind me. I turned to look at the man who spoke. I didn’t recognise him. But he surely hadn’t been with us before. He looked healthy, clean, and happy. Compared to the sorry sacks who rode on the back of the truck, myself included. Was he a replacement?

“Some Lieutenant told me to report to 2nd.” The man informed us. I glanced across the truck at Lieb who shrugged. I rolled my eyes, why I looked to him for information I have no idea, he’s no help. I leant back resting on the seat between Grant and Jackson.  

“Your name’s Jackson right?” The soldier asked the young man beside me. God he was so young, he assured me he was 19 but I don’t believe him, he looks like a kid.    

“That’s right.” Jackson replied. 

“Who’s leading the platoon?” He asked, Jackson’s eyes flicked to Don who was still standing. 

“Sergeant Malarkey is.” He tells the soldier. 

“What no officers?” I tilt my head while looking at the man while he talks, his face seems so familiar. 

“I guess you didn’t hear.” Lieb said. 

“No, what's that?” He turned his attention onto Joe. 

“They’re making Malarkey a Lieutenant. He’s on the fast track now.” He says while fiddling with his lighter. A tell that he was lying, the little shit. No one said anything about his blatant lie.  

“Really? That’s great.” It’s bugging me, I swear I know this dude. He probably thinks I’m a weirdo as he glances at me staring at him. 

“Jackson, help me up will you?” He swings his bag onto the back of the truck, pulling himself up to sit next to Jackson. I move from my spot, not having enough room on the bench anymore without me basically sitting in Grant’s lap. I sit in between Babe and Lieb. Continuing to stare at the private. This is going to drive me insane, who is this guy?

 The truck jolts forward, almost sending him flying out again. I hide my laughter behind my hand. 

“So, uh, you come from the hospital?” Jackson asks him.

“Must’ve liked that hospital, cause’ we left Holland four months ago.” I nudge Lieb, silently scolding him for being mean.  

“Who is this guy?” I whispered to Babe.

“Webster, I think.” My mouth flew open, that’s where I knew him from, I think I met him on my first night. Babe reaches out, shutting my mouth, “Close your mouth, you’ll catch flies.”

“Well I wasn’t there the whole time. There was rehabilitation, then the replacement depot.” Webster explained. 

“Well, I’m sure you tried to bust out and help us in Bastogne, Web.” Lieb was pissed off. Lieb would’ve come back and helped, like a lot of the other men did. But they can’t all be like them. Webster got off the line and had a holiday, can’t blame the man for not wanting to come back in a hurry. This was war for god sake, no one wishes to be here. Well I hope not. I mean I do but I have my reasons ok!

“I don’t know how I would’ve done that.” Webster defended himself. I looked at Babe, he seemed to notice the tension, I made a face showing my discomfort. Hiding my look behind my hand. He gave me the same look back. I chuckled and bumped him with my shoulder trying to ease the cringe we both felt in our chests. Like going over to a friends house and having to sit there and watch them be told off. So awkward. 

“That’s funny cause Popeye found a way. So did Alley, right, back in Holland? And Guarnere and –” Lieb turned to Babe and I, we both nodded silently, not wanting to be dragged into the passive aggressive conversation. Lieb was the king of passive aggressiveness, let me tell you. Don’t piss off that guy. He will subtly degrade you and wear you down.   

“Yeah, where is Guarnere? He still your platoon Sergeant?“ Webster asked. I could feel both Lieb and Babe stiffen next to me. I stilled too. It was hard being dragged back to that place of memories. So we didn’t mention it, and kept moving forward. So for Web to come in asking where people were, hit a nerve. It was an unspoken rule not to really speak of those who we had lost. It just made it so much harder, we didn’t have time to process or grieve really. It was for later, after this was all done and we were safe then we could process everything that had happened. 

“No. He got hit.” Jackson said with a huff. Webster was not picking up on the social cues being hurled at him. How did he not see or feel the tension as soon as he mentioned Bill’s name, it was so thick you could cut it with a knife. 

The truck stopped moving as we stood. Lieb held out his hand for me to grab to help me jump down. I took his hand, hopping down and landing beside him, “Thank you.” I said giving him a smile, but I could tell Webster had put him in a sour mood. I waited for Babe to hop down as well. He stood up in the truck, “Yeah, Bill got hit. Blew his whole leg off.” Babe said to Webster. Great now he’s made both of them mad. Babe jumped down, walking in stride with me. We walked alongside the trucks that had parked.

“Spread out. Hold along this line till I figure out where we’re going.” Don said, striding forward from behind us. Making his way over to where Captain Speirs was talking to another officer. I hung back as the men kept walking. Waiting by the trucks for instructions, no good me holding the line with no weapon. 

“Sarge.” Web called from behind me, I turned to look at the man as he walked. He brushed past me, his rifle still in its bag clocking me right in the head. I stumbled backwards, tripping over rubble on the floor. I landed on the ground with a hard thud. Ow! Fucking dick! I rubbed my head, grimacing in pain. He didn’t even realise he had done it, continuing to walk towards Malarkey. I got to my feet, brushing the dirt from my hands. I glared at the man, great now he’s pissed me off too. The sounds of shells being fired whistled through the air. I ducked my head down barely trying to cover myself. I watched with pure shock as Webster dove onto the ground face planting into the snow. I covered my mouth trying to muffle the laughter escaping my lips. Malarkey turned around to see his soldier lying in the snow. I giggled furiously behind the men. 

“What’s the matter there, Webster? Nervous in the service?” Don asked the man. I almost fell to the floor again in a fit of hysterics, wiping the tears from my eyes. The scene of Webster flying through the air replaying in my head. Well I’m not mad at him anymore. 

Don finished talking to Webster, sending him off to speak with Captain Speirs. “Em, you’re with me, let’s go.” Don called to me as he passed. I hurried after him, trailing behind a little so that he could speak to others if he needed. 

I split from the group needing to find Lip, I saw him slink away into one of the houses they were setting up CP in. I hurried in watching Lip take a seat on one of the couches. 

“Lip, how are you feeling?” I asked the man coming to kneel beside the couch he rested on. 

“Great.” He smiled. I placed my hand on his forehead, he was running a fever. His skin was clammy and hot. His complexion was pallor in colour, and even from here I could hear the evident wheeze in his chest. He coughed into a handkerchief, producing a greenish yellow phlegm. George laid a blanket over the man as I assessed him. I pulled the stethoscope from my bag, Lip leaned forward knowing the drill. I untucked his top from the back, sliding my hand under his shirt to press the diaphragm of the stethoscope to his back. 

He winced, “Sorry cold hands.” I apologised from my freezing fingers that touched his warm skin. 

“Deep breath in.” He inhaled for me as I listened in one spot. “And out.” He exhaled. I could hear the rattle in his chest clearly, as he exhaled. I moved the diaphragm around listening to different parts of the lungs, from the top of the lung field to the bottom. I removed my hand from under his shirt, tucking it back in. 

“How does it sound?” He asked, reading over a paper George had handed him. 

“Well Lip it sounds better than last time I checked, but there is still fluid present in the lungs. So you need to rest. If you keep going you’re going to crash. They have this handled, you need to go lie down. There are beds in the back, go sleep. And remember at least three pillows, you need your head elevated.” I tried to explain to him, but even when he first got sick he refused to rest, saying there was too much work to do. I could only drag a horse to water.  

“George, have you had any word about if they will send us some antibiotics?” I asked Luz as he moved around the room organising things. 

“No, sorry Em.” I sighed, frustrated, he needed that medication. 

“Hey, look who it is. Nice digs, huh, Lip?” I tucked the blanket into Lip’s side knowing he would refuse to move and go to bed. I looked over to Webster who stood in the passageway. 

“Sergeant Lipton? Feeling alright?” Webster asked the man.

“He’s got pneumonia.” George informed the curious soldier. I still knelt beside him, concern apparent on my features. He gave me his sorry-I-will-go-rest-soon-face. 

“I’m sorry to hear that.” Webster shared his apologies. 

“What are you sorry about? He’s alive. Got a couch, a goddamn blanket, snug as a bug.” George said cigarette hanging from his mouth. I stood from my position, placing my stethoscope back into my bag. 

“Sergeant Malarkey said to check with the CO if I should be in 2nd platoon.” Webster said. 

“Have a seat, Webster. We’ll get you situated.” Lipton ushered the man to sit. He took a place at the old piano. 

“How long have you been sick?” Webster inquired. 

“Long enough.” I patted the man on his shoulder. Poor guy had been ill for a while. He had a cold at first, which I said in the first place for him to rest and let it pass. But being the caring man that he is couldn’t leave his soldiers. So he worked still, causing the cold to become worse and then it deteriorated into pneumonia. Still even with that he refused to lie still and do nothing. Which I encouraged him to do so many times, I had given up. 

“And when did nurses start helping on the frontlines?” He turned and asked me. 

“Ah, I’m a medic.” I answered. 

“Oh, that’s right! I recognise you now.” He smiled, “Yeah, wow, I’m surprised you’re still alive.” We all stilled. I sent him a disbelieving look, surely he didn’t just say that to me.

“Um… thanks?” I wasn’t sure what to say. 

“Of course Em is still alive, she’s tough as nails. Huh Em?” George came and stood beside me wrapping an arm around me as he gave me a squeeze. I smiled at Luz, nodding my head. 

“Sure am.” I turned to look at Webster, who assessed the interaction. He seemed to be puzzled at the closeness we shared. Too bad for him, it was a common sentiment I shared with all the Easy men. 

Footsteps sounded from the doorway. A young man appeared in the room. “Is this the CP for Easy company?” He asked, looking lost. 

“Yes, sir.” Lip said, moving to sit up on the couch. Everyone else in the room stood as well. I inspected the man closer, recognising the dash on his helmet showing he was a ranking officer. 

“As you were.” He told the men who stood at his arrival. “Lieutenant Jones looking for Captain Speirs.” 

“He’s on his way, sir. Why don’t you sit down.” Lip told the Lieutenant. I moved from my position standing next to Lip’s couch. I gave Luz a small wave heading for the door. Captain Speirs strolled in right as I was about to leave. He gave me a warm smile as we passed. 

“Listen, for Christ’s sake, will you go back in the back and sack out? There’s some beds back there with fresh sheets.” I heard Ron tell Lip. 

“I told him that sir, he wouldn’t listen.” I called over my shoulder. 

“Listen to Emily, she's the medic.” I laughed as Ron scolded him. I left the CP heading to where 2nd platoon had been placed. I passed Winters and Nix on my way out as well. 

“Emily! You’re looking well.” Nixon called to me, I smiled brightly at the man as I hadn’t seen him in a while. He moved forward arms wide, I stepped into his tight hug. I pulled away from Nix. Winters smiled at me, giving me a loving squeeze on the arm, as I grinned at him.  

“It’s good to see you both.” I told them happily. The exchange was brief before they set off again in the direction I had just come from. 

#band of brothers fanfic #donald malarkey #band of brothers #hbo war #fanfic #joe toye #bill guarnere #dick winters #david webster #joe liebgott #babe hefferon #Chuck Grant #Web doesn't know how to read a room #and also doesn't know how to speak to women #wow im surprised you're still alive #what a charmer

[faela404]

☆The Library ☆

kazuha x gn! reader

prompt: - you and kazuha attend the same university, him being a english lit major and you being a person in stem😎 your paths never crossed until that day in the library…

*this is an smau so please do expect a lot of twitter posts and messages to read, there will be proper writing too but, it will mostly be that!!*

warning! this chapter involves mentions of self- neglect, possible eating disorders, insomnia, swearing, implications of inappropriate acts (though it never happened), mentions of anxiety and biblical references (kinda? idk jesus and the bible was mentioned in a lighthearted manner)

masterlist - prev | next

☆it was a mistake ☆

i’ve been sitting here, on my phone, for over 6 hours now. this isn’t good. i’ve forgotten to eat again.

i’ve never been too good at taking care of myself, most the time i’m too engrossed in what im doing to remember that i need to eat, drink or even use the bathroom. however, recently it’s been getting worse. before, i would be able to remember by atleast 7pm but lately, i’ve been having my dinners at 12am, sometimes even later.

i suppose i should be happy i remembered just before midnight this time, but i just don’t see it that way. to me, this is still a failure.

pulling myself out of the warm comfort of my bed below me, i wandered out towards the kitchen. we never tend to have much food in, with us being university students it can be hard to get enough money for such necessities. nonetheless, i managed to find a packet of chicken super noodles (if you don’t know what these are or don’t eat chicken, just read it as your favourite type of instant noodles😌). careful i pulled open the bag and dumped the contents out into my bowl, along with the flavoured powder and some hot water from the kettle, before putting this in the microwave.

after finishing my noodles and placing the bowl in the sink to wash up another day, i once again returned to the comfort of my bed and bright phone screen.

i didn’t get to bed until 3:49am.

i woke up too late, again.

i’m going to be in so much trouble.

i wish my class wasn’t so small, then maybe the professor wouldn’t notice me as i slip through the door and attempt to make my way to my seat.

we’re doing lab work.

she notices me.

“how lovely of you to finally join us, y/n” god did she have to say it so loud. i feel so many eyes on me but, i can’t falter. i try my hardest to ignore them as she continues to speak.

“please stay behind once class is finished y/n, we need to talk” she sounds so smug. i give a curt nod and quickly scurry to my lab partner.

i must look disheveled, i can feel how red my face is, the sweat dripping down my neck- getting caught on the neckline of my shirt. mascara from yesterday is sure to be lining the underneath of my eyes.

my lab partner, lumine, looks worried. however, she seems to ignore my disgusting outward appearance as she begins to explain the experiment to me, giving me time to write down her words and the results.

class wraps up quickly. everyone begins to shuffle out, talking to eachother of their weekend plans, but not me.

i make my way towards professor ningguang. she looks angry but, she doesn’t shout.

“i did warn you there would be consequences if you was absent again, didn’t i?”

i’m so nervous, i’ve never gotten into trouble before.

“yes, professor but, i wasn’t able to get much sleep i’ve haven’t been able to-“

she cuts me off. she’s angrier than she’s letting on.

“i don’t have time for your excuses, y/n. you have been late 5 times in the past 2 weeks, that is completely unacceptable. however, with only 3 weeks left of school before winter break, i can’t give you the standard punishment for a disobedience such as this. instead, you will help out the librarian. ms. lisa has been complaining recently of the mess the library has become. for the next 3 weeks, you will go to the library after school and clean it until there isn’t a spec of dust left, do i make myself clear?”

im not sure if it was the nerves or the fear of her telling me this in such a calm way, but i made no move to object. i simply nodded and left as she dismissed me.

it wasn’t until i got back to my dorm that it truly sank in.

are. you. fucking. kidding. me?!

clean the library? everyday? for 3 weeks?!

i suppose it could be worse, but come on! i have a life, i have homework! i can’t dedicate every evening to cleaning a stupid library!

god, this is going to be miserable.

a/n - ahhhh this was so fun to create! i can’t wait for ya’ll to see the next part! i hope you enjoyed this and will enjoy the rest of the series! take care of yourselves <3

taglist- open! @kazuhaprnt

#faela404~🍓🍰writes #genshin smau #genshin au #genshin fluff #kazuha x reader #kazuha x you #kazuha x gn reader #gn reader #childe #xiao #venti #ganyu #hu tao #kazuha #scaramouche #smau #taglist #genshin imagines #genshin x reader #hope you guys enjoy #faela404~ 📕🍰the library

[eyesaremosaics]

The world is in such a state, that I feel embarrassed sharing my thoughts or feelings about anything, especially something as petty as my personal problems.

I’m writing today for myself, and maybe someone out there can relate.

I’ve been going through changes for a while now. I’m definitely experiencing a spiritual awakening I have had many encounters (some I initiated, but most having to do with the random crossing of paths) that were very healing, some after ten years or more of silence between us. It’s almost like… all the wounding that I did and that was done to me in my twenties has come full circle.

I have felt overflowing love, understanding, as well as a consciousness of my part to play in every relationship/situation. It was painful to look at my shadow self so clearly. To peel back the layer of victimhood, and realize that maybe I was the problem, in many respects.

Yet in this process of fully realizing my faults, I have developed something I never had before: compassion for myself. I understand why I was the way I was, and looking back, I was able to see just how far I’ve come. It was a good feeling, a proud feeling. Tying off loose ends energetically from so many people from my past. People who were major players in my story (and I in theirs).

It’s bittersweet, the forgiveness is heartfelt on both sides, yet the empty echo of what was, and will never be again lingers on. Yet the older I get, the more I realize it’s all perspective.

With the impending eclipse, I have felt this urge to transform. This shedding of skin. I keep peeling it off like strips, like the bark from a very old tree. I’m uncomfortable being “comfortable”. I keep thinking beyond me, I constantly leave my body, float up to god knows where.

This quiet dissociation gets me into trouble.

On the regular.

Like a fever dream you live on, a heartbeat in my head. All the dreams, your shadowed face. All apologies. Wanting to speak to me. Whispering words I can’t remember upon waking. It feels like energetic stalking. Sitting on all these words I’ve written.

All the perspective I’ve gained in recent weeks… on each past relationship I had. The gifts I got from each lover, what I learned, and how I’ve changed. I harbor no anger toward any of them anymore. I understand it all. I see it from a Birds Eye view. The drop in the bucket, rippling out into ocean blue. The reverberation spills into areas I don’t even realize, to people I’ve never met.

Sitting with all the ugly things I’ve said and done in my life.

Comforted by the fact that in my heart I know I never meant any harm. I know myself now. I know I never hurt anyone on purpose. I was just trying to survive, through so much trauma and pain, just as they were.

I have compassion for each of them, and I also have compassion for myself.

The only way you can shift your beingness, is to live by example. Just be the thing you wish to see. Show up differently, and consistently. The more you practice, the easier it gets.

I’m doing a cleanse to prepare for the Ayahuasca ceremony. I need the purge, I need to purify my spirit. They say the first session is like opening a Pandora’s box. The second open heart surgery, the third is repair, or sewing you back up. I need this hard reset more than I can explain.

My friend Alejandro did the ceremony after both of his parents died rather suddenly. Therapy wasn’t working, so he tried Ayahuasca, and said it was like 100 therapy sessions in one. He said his dead mother (whom he had been very close to) came down and wrapped her arms around him and held him while he cried. He knew he didn’t have to be so sad anymore, because she was always around him, whenever he needed her. Powerful stuff.

I am a little afraid to open the Pandora’s box of all the SA I’ve experienced. I lost count. It’s really sad. I don’t talk about my traumas anymore, mainly because it just makes everyone around me uncomfortable. Plus I don’t like the way people change how they are towards you. It’s a part of my past, but it doesn’t define me. I am not what happened to me.

Fearful that I will have to relive some of these memories. Hoping to connect with some of those who have passed on. Hoping to resolve this thing with you that keeps cropping up in my mind nearly a decade later. Why is it surfacing now?

I used to write poetry. Now I don’t feel confident enough to string words together.

Yet I express myself in other ways. Or do I? Am I merely stunted? I feel like I can’t be myself with my partner, or with many people I am forced to deal with on a regular basis.

Started just being myself again, regardless of how I think it will be received. This has been to greet results. Yet I fear I am outgrowing many of my relationships… this is uncomfortable, as some of these are my primary anchors. Hoping to get clear about these things in the coming months.

I feel different, I’m not who I was, but I’m still in a state of becoming.

So many old wounds resurfacing. I know this is a time of healing, and I am eager to receive all the light.

Hoping you are all feeling the changes too in your own lives. Curious to hear if you’ve had similar things come up for you in these trying times… especially with all the transits taking place.

#me

[imyourliquor-youremypoison]

Trainwreck (OC fiction) - Part 1

This is just a little something-something that i wrote for myself. It's not finished yet (even though I started drafting this idea in 2018) but I have fun getting back to writing more again, and so this work is finally born.

It's not a fanfic, feel free to ignore if it's not your thing.

Boy x Girl, not mature in anyway, an ode to falling in love, however briefly, with strangers

4.5k words

MASTERLIST

>>> Part 2

(If you need a little push imagination-wise, here's what I pictured the boy to look like)

As far as her memory went, Jo couldn’t recall the last time she’d had such an awful day. It started off with a nice, good nosebleed at seven in the morning, followed by the light bulb frying off when she tried to turn on her lamp to grab a tissue and stop the bleeding. After changing the bedsheets and putting the bloody ones in the washer, she was running late. She ripped her favorite tights when she hastily put them on, and she had to go for a pair of jeans instead of the skirt she planned to wear.

Eventually, when her rough beginning of the day was over – or so she thought – she walked to the train station, only to find out that her train was twenty minutes late. Not that delayed trains were a rare thing, but today really got its place in Jo’s top five worst days when it started pouring rain, drenching her to the bones before she even had a chance to pull her umbrella out of her bag. And truthfully, at this point, was it even worth it to open it? She was late, wet, cold, and couldn’t imagine there was anything in the world that could salvage today.

            She sighed, and still pulled out the umbrella. How stupid would she look if she’d just stood in the pouring rain, umbrella closed in her hand?

            Now there she was, standing stiffly along the rails, waiting in a late-November rainstorm, pondering the pros and cons of jumping in front of the train. A girl can only endure so much. Jo was no exception, which was why she stood there, lips pursed and face adorned with her award-winning resting bitch face to keep away any potential old lady who’d want to chat her up about how it’s a shame that trains are always late.

            In the rush, she didn’t grab her gloves and when she noticed the tip of her fingers turning blue, she painstakingly wiggled one into the small pocket of her jeans – the other one was holding the umbrella, unfortunately. It didn’t do any good, causing her to grumble to herself, wondering if today’s classes were worth so much trouble or if she should just head back to her apartment and not leave the coziness of her feather duvet until the end of the week. It was only Tuesday and already Jo couldn’t wait for the much-needed week-end to finally start.

            In order to keep herself busy for the next fifteen minutes, she put on her earphones and some blasted the loudest, most angry music she had downloaded on her Spotify, something that reflected accurately her current mood – and once again, she cursed silently the world. She really wished she had chosen to take her car today – parking was always a hassle but by God, she would give anything to be sitting her dry, warm car, mindlessly singing along to the lyrics. She obviously couldn’t do that here, there were other persons around her waiting for their train, and she wasn’t a nut job.

            After what seemed like an eternity, the train arrived in the station, and when the engine finally arrived to a stop, a few feet away from where she stood, shaking from head to toe from the biting wind, she could have cried.

Suddenly, everybody rushed towards the opening doors, eager to escape from the downpour and find shelter in the train. In the mayhem, somebody bumped into Jo’s shoulder, causing her bag to drop down into her elbow and making her let go of her umbrella.

            A gasp of surprise and yet another groan fell from her lips as she quickly put her bag back on her shoulder and knelt down to pick up her umbrella and close it so she could enter the train. Jo looked up to see who the culprit was, ready to lash out because today of all days wasn’t a good time to not apologize to her. She froze dead in her tracks.

A single glance at the boy standing before her eyes made her swallow back whatever she was going to say – and almost stumble back and trip on her own feet. His blue grayish stare took her aback, and he mouthed a swift ‘sorry’ along with an apologetic look – but was truly caught her attention was the fact that he only had one eye fully open. Before she could take her rudeness further, the familiar whistle signaling the doors closing was heard. He turned around to go take a seat, and the spell was broken.

            Still a bit unnerved by the peculiarity of this boy’s captivating single eye, Jo mindlessly made her way down the alley and sat down as far away from other people as possible, shrugging off her coat and carefully putting her dripping umbrella on the floor. After shoving her scarf in her bag, she took out a book and started digging to search for her glasses aggressively pushing stuff out of her way, but finding nothing.

“You gotta be fucking kiddin’ me!” she whisper-shouted to herself. The only thing that could have made this day worse just happened. Her hands flew up in defeat and she leaned back, seriously considering jumping off the bandwagon. Short of finding a five hundred dollars bill on the floor, this day was definitely ruined.

She opened her book regardless, determined to get a few pages in, even though it would be particularly tiring to read without her glasses. Jo furiously flipped the pages until she reached her bookmark, letting out all of her frustration on that poor book. Aside from her issues seeing the words on the pages, Jo’s reading was greatly disrupted by the fact that her mind kept drifting back to this guy’s unearthly eye color – and she couldn’t help being intrigued by his other eye, the one that didn’t open all the way up.

She felt uneasy and somewhat ashamed that it was so big of a deal for her – as if she should have noticed him for something else, anything else than his ill eye. This whole ‘one eye’ thing had her brain upside down and she wondered whether or not it was normal to be this interested in some stranger’s condition. Maybe ‘normal’ wasn’t the right word, but it was human. Most people would probably look away as quickly as they could, as if voiding eye contact would prevent contagion as if it was actually contagious. Then, they’d pass it off as politeness. It’s rude to stare.

Well, it is. But at least she didn’t pretend she didn’t see it. It’s right there, in the middle of his face. Wouldn’t it be worse to ignore it? Was she overthinking this?

            He must receive so many indiscreet stares… Jo felt a surge of embarrassment heat up her face when she realized how she had looked at him when their eyes met. A sudden urge to smash her face in the seat before her overwhelmed her. On the other hand, she wasn’t expecting that, so it was understandable to be surprised, right? Anyway, now that the unfortunate meeting was history, she could let her mind wander a bit, that wouldn’t hurt no one.

            What happened to him? A disease? A physical trauma? Just some dust in his eye? Did he still see with that eye? She’ll most definitely never get answers to her questions, but she couldn’t help but wonder. She was a curious one, and sometimes she overstepped her boundaries when she really wanted to know something – although in this case, she might think twice about it, because speaking to attractive boys wasn’t exactly her forte.

            This reminded her of sixth grade when she had a crush on this boy, Adrian, because he had this accident in PE and ended up having an arm-brace for a few months. Later on, when Jo mentioned this childhood crush to her friends – because once you are over twenty, sixth grade is labeled as childhood – they teased her about it, saying that she was the ‘mom’ kind of girlfriend. The type of girls that only go for guys who could potentially need them, as if tending to their wounds – physical or emotional – would make them win their affection.

            This really is a thing. At the time, Jo laughed it off with her friends before changing the subject, but when she came home, she took the time to cogitate a bit, and she realized just how accurate her friends were. But going after the broken ones wasn’t a sport, and Jo couldn’t help how she felt, and for lack of a better word she was drawn to vulnerable people.

            Before taking her reflection too far down that slippery slope, she shook her head to chase away those parasite thoughts. She abruptly closed her book single handedly with a loud thud, causing the few people sharing the wagon to look up from whatever they were doing to seek out the source of the disturbance. The sudden attention brought to her made her face heat up and she knew she was red as a ripe cherry.

In an attempt to escape those prying eyes judging her for troubling the religious silence reigning in the wagon, Jo desperately searched for some place she could set her eyes on. Finally, her face cooled down and she relaxed in her seat, wondering what she'd do in class today without her glasses. But once again her train of thoughts was interrupted by the feeling of somebody looking at her.

Everybody knows the unsettling feeling of having a stare so intense directed to you that you could physically sense it, as tangible as the touch of a hand against one's cheek. Darting her gaze around to find the source of the disturbance, Jo frowned her brows, wondering if maybe someone she knew was on board and recognized her. But she didn't recall seeing any familiar faces when she waited at the train station. Eventually, she found what she was looking for. Once again, her cheeks flushed a bright pink and it was suddenly extremely hot in here, especially when the boy from before stared a hole through her head - Jo couldn't fathom how intense his gaze would be if both his eyes were fully open.

For a good five seconds, their eyes were locked and the girl wondered what would be more awkward: looking away with the blush obvious on her cheeks or supporting his stare, at the risk of freaking him out. In the end she decided it was safer to look away because she didn't trust herself to uphold his gaze any longer.

When she looked down to her lap, a wave of regret washed over her - what if he thought she looked at him because of his eye? Of course, it was the truth in a way, although there was much more to him than his sight issues. Indeed the 'boy' must be around her age, maybe a little older but not by much. His valid eye was a light shade of ice blue, piercing with intensity and he seemed not at all bothered by his other eye. His dirty blond hair was stylishly put back and tamed in a way that Jo couldn't even dream to achieve with her own long, inconvenient hair. He had one of these noses which you want to boop and had a nice curved slope. His lips were full and sharp and gave his face a slight femininity that suited him and graced him with a certain fragile charm. He harbored the same uniqueness and delicacy as snowflakes, without losing any of his male beauty.

If she hadn't already drawn enough attention to her, Jo would have face palmed herself for looking away. She felt as though she had missed her chance with this guy even though there was nothing there to begin with, and she certainly had no intention of hitting on him.

She didn’t.

He managed to intrigue her, beyond the physical peculiarity there was something edgy and elusive about him. He was sitting rather far away from where she was but he was just in her line of sight. When she dared to peek between the seats in front of her to see him again, he was staring out the window. He couldn't see her at all because she was on the side of his bad eye. It allowed her to take a better look - although blurry because of the absence of glasses on her nose - at the droopy eye. It wasn't completely closed, it was more like he couldn't open it and it remained oddly narrowed, resulting in a lazy stare. The contrast with his other eye was mainly due to his eye color though, and Jo wished he would look her way again. This made her shake her head again because what in God's name would make her want to confront his stare again? First of all, she would probably look away as she did before and then-

He was simply too handsome for her own good. At this point, she figured she maybe should’ve thanked him for bumping into her. He looked so put-together, so clean and sleek – not at all like someone who had braved the rain to catch a train-ride. This only reminded her that she, in fact, did not possess such grace, and currently looked like a drowned dog. Felt like it, too.

She was one to go weak in the knees when she had to talk to an attractive person and ended up stuttering out some idiotic sentence which would later feed on her esprit de l'escalier. This guy though, had a magnetic effect on her, despite the fear of being caught red-handed eying him - for the second time! Suddenly his eye left the landscape to focus back on the inside of the train, apparently with the intention of finding her eyes because he locked his gaze right with hers. This time the awkwardness was gone. The unease was replaced by a sort of calm curiosity from both parts - they were studying each other. Jo was overwhelmed with the strange impression that the outcome of this staring contest had a lot more at stake than what it seemed. Her heart missed a beat when the corner of his mouth curved up a little. He was smirking at her, and before her brain had the time to process what was happening, she felt her own lips curl into a faint smile, returning the silent address.

And in that exact moment, she realized just how screwed she was, because she knew this strange boy was the new object of her wavering affection, and hopefully, she’d get over this instant crush by the end of the day.

How fucking wrong she was.

*

            The following week was even more stressful than the last one, though this time she arrived ten minutes early – just in case, not at all because she hoped to see the guy again. Jo stomped as if angry at the whole world and paced around the platform like a caged lion. At some point she had to stop because this old lady was giving her a judgmental look while clutching at her small flower pattern tote bag, as if she thought Jo was some kind of drug addict who needed her fix and was about to jump to her throat, teeth out, foam dripping down her chin.

            All this because she couldn’t stay still. The girl huffed and stopped walking. Before pulling her tights up, she made sure no one was looking her way, and she also quickly checked her hair in the nearest window. Her makeup hardly hid the dark circles adorning her face, but she did as well as she could. Her hair kept flying in her face because of the wind and she constantly had to pull it back with one hand, while the other one was on the hem of her dress to keep it down and make sure it wouldn’t go all Marilyn Monroe on her. After five minutes of this game, Jo groaned and forcefully closed her coat, crossing her arms over her chest and blowing air upwards to chase her hair out of her face. A small laughter erupted from behind her.

            She spun on her heels to see who was making fun of her distress and immediately felt her face fire up again. Of course, it was him. But how long had he been? How long had he watched her struggle with her hair and outfit? Jo was overwhelmed with the urge to dig a hole and crawl in it to die. Well… at least it didn’t rain this time.

“What are you laughing at?” she snapped, mentally scolding herself for being rude, although it wasn’t very nice of him to mock her either. The first wave of guilt vanished pretty quickly and the girl applauded herself for not just blushing and looking away like a schoolgirl. It was his fault; he shouldn’t have laughed.

“Comfort being sacrificed on the altar of beauty,” he stated enigmatically, a smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. Jo’s mouth fell agape, and he looked proud to have her at loss for words, yet when she processed what he told her and finally went to answer him, he suddenly strode away, as if shying away from the conversation.

            The underlying compliment in his sentence had her confused and a tab bit flustered, but she inwardly slapped herself to regain her senses and do something. God, he said something to her – he didn’t have to but he did – she couldn’t just let the conversation stop there. Even though she wasn’t sure this exchange deserved to be called a conversation.

            When she was about to follow him and speak up again, she was interrupted by the honk of the train. After that the small gathering of people waiting there started moving towards the deck, waiting for the complete stop of the engine. Her timing was so bad Jo actually considered having offended whatever superior power there was, because this much bad luck couldn’t be natural, or coincidental. She went with the flow and followed the other people inside, a bit disappointed that she lost sight of him so quickly.

            However, as soon as she got inside, she spotted the boy and pondered the pros and cons of making a bold move like sitting next to him, despite of the many, many empty seats around him. If she thought about it too long, she’d back down. Before changing her mind, she bee-lined towards him, almost tripping over some rogue luggage on her way down the alley, but quickly reaching the empty seat.

When she arrived, there was his bag on it.

“May I?” Jo asked, her voice unsure but at least not stuttering. He looked up, startled but trying not to be rude and automatically nodding his head, but not giving any sign of removing the bag from the seat. “-unless you want to be alone?” she asked, her eyes switching between him and the seat.

            She would have sworn he blushed, but he took the bag and turned to the window before she could see for good. Jo sat down, a bit too slowly not to make it awkward, but it was so obvious that he agreed just because she took him aback that she hesitated a second. If he kept acting like this, the next thirty minutes were going to be incredibly uncomfortable. For the first five minutes, it felt to her that he was doing everything he could to avoid eye contact. It was stupid though, wasn’t it? They already had made eye contact earlier, and last week.

“What’s your name?” she blurted out, ignoring all and any social conventions. Maybe she should have opened up with her own name first. Too late for that now though – God, she should not be allowed out in public.

            The stranger turned to face her, once again speechless as he stared at her – probably regretting letting a weird girl who kept staring at him sit with him. His valid eye was wide open as the other remained half closed, barely opened and still. There was surprise painted all over his graciously flawed face and his lips fell open as he continued to soak up the details of her face.

Jo had dark brown eyes, one of those straight and pointy noses with a beauty spot on the bridge of her nose and a mouth that was made to smile. Her hair was a mess still, but she was a pretty girl, in a wild sort of way.

“You know, if I didn’t hear you speak before, I’d think you’re mute,” she suddenly told him, raising an amused eyebrow. This had the effect of relaxing him slightly, and when she saw the tension leave his jaw, she smiled.

“Sorry,” he felt the need to apologize. This one word sent shivers down her spine. That voice.

“I’m Joyce. Jo for short.” Her smile widened even more and he didn’t know what to do.

“Roman,” he managed to voice, swallowing the lump in his throat. “You’re the girl from last week?”

Jo invoked all of her self-control not to blush. “That would be me.” She nodded, not looking down in her lap now. At least that was out of the way, she thought.

This was about as awkward as it could get, and the tension between them was so thick Jo actually considered taking out a knife – not that she carried one with her – and cut through it. She knew he was aware of it too, but neither of them knew what to do about it. Last week’s playful smirk he shot her was a much better start than this conversation which led them nowhere. Although, Jo suspected she knew where the unusual awkwardness came from. She was more than capable of making friends with ease, so there had to be more to it than just a bit of shyness. It had to be his eye. Was he self-conscious?

Within a second, she had made her decision, and before giving it a second thought, she blurted out, “Ptosis of the eyelid[1], right?”

“Excuse me?” he asked, his eye almost popping out. If he wasn’t sitting at the window, she was sure he’d run away as fast as light speed.

“I figured I might as well talk about the elephant in the room. It would be even ruder of me to pretend I don’t notice, wouldn’t it?” she reasoned, progressively making his confused and shocked frown disappear. “And just to make it clear, I’m not sitting here out of morbid curiosity.”

“Then why?” he replied, giving her a suspicious look.

            Because you’re handsome, and you smirked while looking at me, and I have knots in my stomach right now because of how nervous I am.

“Do I need a reason?” she said.

“If I say yes, would you tell me the truth?” he answered her question with another one. His brows shot up, causing a wrinkle to draw on his forehead. She nodded. “Then yes.”

“I think you’re attractive.” There, she said it. Dammit. If she ever told her friends about this, they’d all squeal so high-pitched she’d go deaf instantly. Jo wasn’t known to be so bold.

            The stranger’s face suddenly flushed red and he blinked and turned to the window to avoid her gaze before saying, “Well, that was straightforward. But I asked for honesty so I’m not complaining.”

“You look surprised,” she stated. It sort of felt like she was in control of the conversation at this point, and she enjoyed the feeling. His eye went back to her, and this time he was smiling too – though it was discrete.

“It’s not every day that a pretty girl hits on me so boldly,” he simply answered. But it was the second time today that he complimented her indirectly, and this time she wasn’t going to let it go away. For some odd reason, she was drawn to him in a way she had never experienced before. He was there, at arm length and she wanted to reach out and touch him – and only her common sense prevented her from doing so.

            Putting her bag under her seat, Jo brought her left leg up and over her right, putting herself more at ease. This particular show of relaxation gave Roman confidence and he ditched the landscape to focus back on her, with a boyish grin plastered on his pale face, his one opened blue eye piercing right through her.

“You could have spoken to me last week. You don’t strike me as a shy person,” he said. “After all, you did come today.” He also crossed his legs, placing his left ankle on his right knee, and fiddling with his shoe laces.

“Oh no, last week I couldn’t. Even today, I always didn’t. I’m not used to this, what I figured, what did I have to lose?” The girl shrugged, telling him the truth. He was slowly warming up at her and this was a good thing if they intended to flirt during the whole ride.

“What indeed,” he said distractedly, slightly biting on his lower lip. Jo saw his Adam’s apple go up and down as he swallowed nervously.

“My ego might have been a little wounded if you told me to sit somewhere else, and I probably wouldn't have approached a guy again for the next fifteen years of my life,” she dramatized and made a funny face to make him laugh. “But aside from that, I thought it was worth a shot.”

“I am honored that you deemed my company worth the risk,” he joked, playing along. “If you don’t mind me asking, why exactly, couldn’t you speak to me last week?”

            Jo sighed a long sigh.

“I was on a massive streak of bad luck last week. If I’d so much as tried to walk past your seat, the train would have abruptly pulled the brakes, and I’d have fallen right into your lap or something ridiculous like that.”

            Now Roman laughed a little louder, visibly not having expected this explanation. He threw his head back a little, and Jo’s chest flare up with pride at having made him laugh.

“I don’t know what I expected but it wasn’t that,” he eventually said. “Did you rehearse this conversation beforehand? I feel… sort of- unprepared compared to you.”

“Don’t beat yourself up, you’re doing great,” she reassured him, going as far as gently bumping her shoulder against his.

            She regretted it almost right away, wondering if she was going too far with this virtual stranger. They met minutes ago and she was already cozying up to him, maybe he would find it weird.

            He didn’t seem to mind, though.

“So-“ he began. “Tell me, where are you going every Tuesday with the 9a.m. train?”

[1] Disease that causes the eyelids to drop (one of them or both), making it difficult or impossible to open the eye completely.

#writing is hard #alyssa talks #bill skarsgård

[beautifulbows924]

Reflections 

Steven Grant & Marc Spector x Gender Neutral!Reader

Masterlist

A/N: I’m not sure about this one, I had to edit it a lot and it originally had a fluffier ending, but I decided to lean into the angst. Sorry for destroying your hearts, but I won’t be writing anymore for this series until after the next episode comes out, mwahahaha. As always, I hope you enjoy. Feel free to leave any feedback you have in the comments and if you like my work consider leaving a tip! Thanks:)

Word Count: 1.8K+

Warnings: Angst, Spoliers, self loathing, something important is revealed about the reader.

Summary: You’ve been friends with Marc your whole life, always secretly wishing you could be something more. So when he goes missing for months and suddenly turns up at your door asking you to help make sure one of his alters, ‘Steven’, doesn’t find out about the mess his life has become- of course you say yes. But what does that mean for you and Marc? Especially, when you’ve started to fall in love with Steven too.

Previous Part: Double the Trouble

Next Part: Of Gods and Men

A new pattern has formed.

Whereas you used to find yourself stumbling alone into the bathroom at all hours of the night. Now, most of your sleepless nights are spent with Steven.

When you find yourself out of bed, you’ll call him, ponder your feelings, and wait for a knock at the door.

You always enjoy your time with him. His company is calming, familiar, and yet so different.

He likes to talk to you about the museum. Some mistake they made on a poster or a new exhibit that’s supposed to open soon. He rambles on a lot, but it’s endearing. You’re certain that you could listen to him talk for hours.

Coffee brews behind you quietly, paralleling when Marc came barreling back into your life, bringing Steven along for the ride with him. You haven’t seen him since that night, and you can’t help but think he’s been avoiding you.

A knock sounds at the door. It’s hesitant, but you still hear it.

You throw it open and Steven practically falls into you, his head finding the crook of your neck, his arms winding around your frame in a tight embrace. You’re used to physical contact with him, but it’s never this immediate or intimate. Nonetheless, you welcome him in, kicking the door closed behind you.

“Are you okay Stevie?”, you ask him, concern written all over your face.

He smiles at the use of his nickname, you’re the only one he lets call him that. But it’s gone by the time he pulls back to look at you, “I don’t- I’m not sure”.

He looks exhausted like he does most of the days you see him. But it’s almost worse this time.

“Did something happen?”, you urge him gently.

“I’m still seeing things- hearing things”, he tells you, leaning his chin on your shoulder.

You know he needs reassurance.

“It’s alright, I promise. I’m right here, I’m real”, you rub soothing circles against his back with your thumb. You hate not telling him the whole truth. He deserves to know.

The guilt leaves a sour taste on your tongue.

“I know, it’s not you”, he says, “You’re the only constant in my life. Our relationship is the only one that has ever come naturally to me”.

If you felt bad before, you feel a hundred times worse now. You think about demanding Marc to tell him the next time you see him, but you already know you’re not going to like his answer.

“Steven, we need to talk”, you regret the words the second they come out of your mouth.

“I don’t like the sound of that, but okay, what about?”, he says, clearly worried, pulling himself away from you completely.

You gesture for him to follow you and he does, hands fidgeting, racking his brain for what he possibly could have done.

He starts to blabber as soon as he sits down, “I’ve finally done it haven’t I- I’ve called you one too many times- or was the hug too much? Too long maybe? I’m so sorry- I wasn’t trying to make you uncomfortable. I was just feeling so overwhelmed. I swear it won’t happen again I-”.

“Steven!”, you exclaim, gaining back his attention, “You didn’t do anything wrong, I promise”.

His entire body relaxes, “I’m-”, he starts to say, but you interrupt him.

“Steven, if you say I’m sorry one more time I’m going to fling you out that window”, you sigh heavily, “You don’t need to apologize to me”.

‘I should be the one apologizing to you’, you think.

His hand finds one of yours underneath the table, squeezing it gently, urging you to speak this time. He’s always been such a good listener.

You start to open your mouth, planning on telling him everything until your eyes notice the mirror hanging on the wall in front of you. It’s Steven’s reflection, but you can tell it’s not Steven. It’s moving on its own accord, not copying his movements.

Marc?

He shakes his head, clearly upset at the situation, his eyes widening in shock when they meet yours.

A silent conversation passes between you, you can’t tell him.

Steven has to say your name several times to pull you from your trance. He’s looking at you fondly, a bit worried.

“Sorry, I got distracted”, you rip your eyes away from the mirror.

“You were going to tell me something”, he reminds you softly, his thumb rubbing gentle circles on the back of your hand.

“Oh”, shit, you can’t tell him what you were going to originally.

You study him for a long moment, how happy he looks with you, how at ease you are with one another, and suddenly your mouth is working of its own accord, “I- I think I’m falling in love with you”. Your eyes widen in shock at your own words, ‘What about Marc?’

“You are?”, he asks.

It doesn’t take long for you to think before you’re answering him, “Yeah, I think so”, you respond, smiling sheepishly, praying that Marc didn’t hear it.

He smiles, leaning closer to you, tentatively pressing his lips to yours. The kiss is soft and sweet just like him. It doesn’t last very long, but you know you’ll remember it.

The next time you glance in the mirror it’s like nothing ever happened.

“How is that even possible?”, you ask, turning to face him.

“Don’t look at me, I don’t know how any of this works. All I know is that no one has ever been able to see me before”, he responds, hands in the air.

“I hate this- keeping things from him”, you change the subject.

“And you think I don’t? It’s for his own good”, he reminds you.

“Is it really? or is it for your convenience Marc?”

He doesn’t respond. He can tell you’re not in the mood for any more of his excuses.

“He’s fine, you’re fine, I’m fine. We’re all fine”, he pauses, “We’ll figure it out later, together, remember?”

“I know you’re right, it’s just stressful”, you pinch the bridge of your nose with your fingers.

“I know, it’ll be okay.”

He stands up, closing the distance between you, placing his hands on your arms, trying to comfort you.

You’re so close that you can feel his breath fan your face again, but this time you don’t move away, “I care about you both”, you remind him.

“I know, we care about you too”.

It was dark when he called you, upset and out of breath. You got to him as fast as you could, “Marc?”

There he was on his knees. He looked defeated, the moon lighting only one side of his face.

“He knows”, he tells you, head hanging low.

There’s a moment of silence, it’s heavy, guilt-ridden.

Marc looks up at you, seeing the silent question in your eyes, “He didn’t take it well”.

You’re angry, you should have convinced him to tell Steven everything from the start.

“No- not you too”, a voice says, coming from the broken mirror.

You and Marc turn to look at it. It’s Steven, now he’s a part of the reflection.

“Steven, everything is going to be-“, you try to reassure him but he doesn’t let you finish, “Bloody hell, no it’s not! I don’t even understand what’s real. I’m stuck in a mirror, and I can barely move”.

You can see Marc tense underneath the low light. It’s as if he’s remembering something awful.

He stands up, walking away from both of you.

“It’s alright, I know it’s strange. Try to take deep breaths”, he says, trying to calm Steven and himself down.

He ignores him, “You know him”, Steven says, his voice filled with hurt, “You’ve been tricking me this entire time! Did you even mean what you said that night?”

“Of course I did!”, you yell, breathing in shakily, tears coming to your eyes.

He ignores you this time, “Am I even real?”, he asks, voice cracking, horrified at the thought.

Your heart breaks for him, he must be so confused.

You don’t answer, you don’t know what to say. You wish you could reassure him, tell him you know why all of this is happening, but you can’t.

“I can’t believe this”, he says, looking between you and Marc, tears filling his eyes too, “I can’t believe that you’ve been with him, helping him this whole time”.

“It wasn’t like that.”

“Really? Then what was it like?”, he says, sounding more upset each time he speaks.

“We were protecting you”, Marc tells him, getting closer to the mirror.

“You’re both liars, I don’t believe you. I don’t trust anything you say”, he looks broken, betrayed.

“Stevie, please”, you try.

“My name is Steven”, he says, his voice the harshest you’ve ever heard it.

It’s all too much. You’re starting to have a hard time taking in full breaths and your heart is clenching painfully in your chest.

“That’s enough”, Marc yells, when he realizes how upset you are. You’re full-on sobbing now, tears streaming down your face.

You can tell he’s still talking trying to explain to him why you did what you did, but it’s all muffled, lost in the background.

It takes the shattering of glass to bring you back to the present.

Steven is gone from the mirror; Marc is breathing heavily, his eyes dark.

You move to comfort him, but as soon as you’re within reach he’s pulling you into his arms, hands moving to cup your face.

“I'm so sorry, I should have never brought you into this”, he breathes out, thumbs wiping away the tears that are still falling from your eyes.

“It’s okay, I wanted to help.”

“I could never forgive myself if something happened to you because of me- if you got hurt because of me”, he says. His eyes are begging you to see that he’s telling the truth, that all he wants is to keep you safe.

“I knew what I was getting into”, you remind him, “And I have you”.

You’re extremely close again, noses almost touching.

“You always have”, he tells you, leaning in closer and closer until your lips are ghosting against each other.

And when he finally kisses you it’s full of raw emotion, like he’s trying to convey all of his feelings in just one kiss.

Like he’s saying goodbye.

He leans his forehead against yours, “You have to go”, he says, with no room for argument in his tone, “I’ll find you, I promise”.

“What about Steven?”, you ask softly, “I’m worried about him, I don’t want him to hate me”.

The air around both of you shifts like someone or rather something has joined you. Marc’s eyes dart across the courtyard like they can see something you can’t.

“He doesn’t hate you, trust me. Now go.”

It takes everything in you to turn around and walk away.

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[loki-hargreeves]

Doubt

Pairing: Marc Spector x fem!Reader  Warnings/Tags: angst, describing anxiety,  mentions of death, mentions of abuse, pregnancy, hurt/comfort Word Count: 2,9k Summary: Marc is scared he’ll be a bad father to the baby you’re expecting. While decorating the nursery, his anxiety gets the best of him. A/N: Soooo I’ve been reading Moon Knight comics and the dad moments have gotten to me. That’s why I had to write this.

YOUR POV

“Marc, could you help me with these?” Your soft voice was muffled by the tower of boxes you were carrying, all wavering in front of your face so that Marc could only see your legs as you walked into the freshly painted soon-to-be nursery. Although the cream coloured paint had dried long ago, the smell was still lingering in the air as a constant reminder of the work you had ahead of you.

Alarmed by the sight, he rushed over to you and took the boxes into his own arms, “You shouldn’t be carrying that much stuff, you know.”

“It’s just curtains and stuff, it doesn’t weigh that much. I’ll be fine, we’ll be fine,” You explained to your worried husband and gestured at your growing belly once your arms were free. Of course, you felt happy that he cared about you, but you wished he wasn’t so worried all the time for his own sake. At any given chance, you would try to comfort him and ease his troubled mind.

Ever since Marc learned you were pregnant, he had been extra careful around you at all times. In a way, it pained you to see how he behaved, every action just proving what you had feared; he was scared. To some extent being scared while expecting your firstborn was natural, but you knew Marc well, better than anyone really. He had his reasons.

Marc heard what you said, but he didn’t reply as his brown eyes scanned the room for a place to put the boxes. As he finally put them down, he turned around to face you. You had sat down on the rocking chair that was temporarily in the middle of the room, surrounded by boxes and tools. The instructions were scattered on the floor as he had insisted on not needing them. Marc had spent all morning putting the rocking chair together along with the crib, making sure not a single screw was loose because he didn’t want it to fall apart with you and your child sitting on it. 

Seeing you so clearly pregnant, only weeks away from your due date was baffling to say the least. As much as Marc adored you and everything about you, something in his mind twisted and tugged at him, telling him that this wasn’t right. If he wouldn’t fuck up, he was sure Khonshu would find a way. Looking at you, Marc could see a happy smile on your face and he realized he was terrified that he would chase it away if he stayed in your lives. 

“I’ll uh, I’m gonna go find some more screws,” Marc nodded to himself as he spoke, almost believing that it was his only intention as he actually just needed a moment for himself. In the past few weeks especially, his anxiety had gotten worse, growing rapidly at the worst possible moments. Marc wanted to get as far away from you as it happened so you wouldn’t have to see how distressed he truly was.

I can’t do this, the thought repeated in Marc’s head over and over again as he made his way to the garage. Domestic life? A happy life? Marc questioned every decision he had made since he had met you, wondering how fucking stupid he had been when he had believed this could last, that this was a life he could actually live. Sure, there were wonderful moments, but his past overshadowed everything, spilling on the good times like toxic waste and distorting them remarkably. 

Marc imagined you rocking your baby. A beautiful picture painted in his head, but like ink on paper, Khonshu appeared in the background, tainting something so ordinary. Marc wasn’t ordinary. The man was terrified of how his deal with Khonshu about being the god’s avatar would come back to haunt you and soon your child. How his own mother, to this day, affected his life. Did Marc want that to reach your child? No way. 

God he longed for a normal, happy life with you more than anything, but Marc was convinced it wasn’t possible. Just thinking about it all was overwhelming, making him sick to his gut as a familiar sting intensified in his eyes, a warning of tears he tried so hard to stop from spilling. 

“Fuck!” Marc cursed under his breath, resisting the urge to tear down the metal shelves in the garage as he didn’t wish to alarm you. The last thing you needed, in Marc’s humble opinion, was to have to deal with him freaking out...again.

With his scarred and rough fingers entangled in his dark locks, Marc held his breath and looked around him as if the world was spinning. Everything felt like too much, as if the entire world was trying to rip his brain apart, piece by piece on a molecular level. Marc anticipated either Khonshu appearing or that he’d lose control again and hand it over to Steven - someone he had worked extremely hard on sheltering from the rest of the world. Not even you knew and Marc had planned on keeping it that away. It was already beyond him how you had stayed when Marc had told you about Khonshu.

How was Marc supposed to protect you and your baby when he hadn’t even been able to protect his own little brother? 

Marc hated it whenever he remembered that day, the day the promise of a normal life was ruined for him. The seed of chaos and pain had been planted and it had relentless roots that dug deep into Marc’s mind, spreading into each little corner and crevice. His brother had died because Marc hadn’t listened to his mother. His own child wouldn’t see their uncle and Marc blamed himself for that. This baby wouldn’t have a relationship with their grandmother because Marc would rather cut his own limbs off than let her into their life.

When someone knocked on the garage door, Marc’s heart skipped a beat. He had sat down on the cold floor at some point, opposite of the closed door. Something about the situation sent his mind far back into the past. He felt caught and that was bad. It was really bad.

“Marc? Are you in there?” Your voice was like a miracle, bringing his mind back to the here and now, as if an anchor on stormy seas. You weren’t going to hurt him, no. You were the most loving and sweet person he knew of, you were safe.

“Yeah,” Marc took a deep breath, not bothering to get up from the floor. What was the point when you could see past everything anyway? Marc wondered how you had enough patience to deal with him. Why had you chosen him? Why did he let you? Was it because he loved you too much or too little? Loved you too little to push you away or too much so that he was unable to let you go? 

When Marc had told you he went looking for screws, you knew something wasn’t quite right. There was a box of them on the nursery floor and besides, you had seen the anxious look on his face. Sitting in the nursery, knowing that Marc wasn’t doing well just felt wrong. Your love for him was strong and the hormones lately seemed to have enhanced that. Knowing Marc was in pain made your heart hurt. There was no way you could brush it off like nothing.

As you opened the door to the garage, your eyes immediately went to Marc who was sitting on the floor, too ashamed to lift his gaze to meet yours. His beautiful, coffee coloured eyes were glossy with sadness and his bottom lip pushed forward just slightly like it always did when he was upset and he tried to hide it. There were small signs you had learned to recognize after spending so many years by his side.

Silently, you made your way to him, bending down a bit slowly since you had a bump throwing you off balance and making your back hurt. As you sat down, you stretched out your legs and took a deep breath, wondering if it was better to sit in silence with Marc or try to find the right words that would soothe his mind and drive away whatever mean voice was occupying it at that moment. 

Carefully, you captured his hands in yours, relieved to see Marc made no effort to push you away. This knuckles were covered in faded scars that you had kissed so many times before. Something about it seemed to calm him down, which was why you placed soft kisses on them once again, heart aching as you sensed the faint tremble within him. 

“What’s wrong, my love?”

Marc had never been much of a speaker. He had a tendency to keep everything to himself, which wasn’t feasible in the long run. There was only so much a person could bottle up. It would’ve been a lie if you had said it surprised you when he simply shook his head, trying to keep the pain all to himself. This wasn’t a case of him not trusting you, he simply wasn’t sure how to let people in when they wanted to help. 

“What if I won’t be a good father?” Marc forced the words out of his mouth after a while, his jaw tense and tongue feeling heavy as he spoke. The words tasted like poison and he wanted it to go away, just like his worries and fears. 

You were shocked to hear that, to say the least. When you looked into his eyes, you found no traces of deception. He was honest as one could be. 

“Marc,” You cooed, furrowing your brows as you tried to find the right words, “Why would you think that?” 

The way he looked at you, his expression revealing how his heart was breaking by the second felt like someone twisted a knife in yours. Tears were threatening to spill from his eyes, making Marc look lost and vulnerable which was quite the opposite of his usual demeanour. All you wanted was to hold him and put the pieces back together again.

“You know me,” Marc took a deep breath, avoiding eye contact as he leaned against the wall, “my past. I’ve done things, Y/N, things I can’t undo.”

Despite all the secrets he kept from you, he had opened up about his mercenary life. The two of you were far from an ordinary couple, that was for sure. Although recently, things had calmed down slightly as you had a baby to prepare for. Both of you had complicated pasts, but Marc felt like he was chained to his. Each time he tried to get away from them, more chains would appear, pulling him deeper into the abyss of his mind.

“I know,” Your fingers caressed his arm in a comforting manner, “it’s okay. Your past doesn’t determine your future. You do. The fact that you’re worried about whether or not you’ll be a good father already speaks volumes. A bad father wouldn’t care.”

Marc wanted to believe that, he really did. It disgusted him to realize that once his mother had been good too. What if he changed?

“I just don’t want to turn into her,” Marc admitted, feeling ashamed as he let you know what was troubling him so much. “You don’t deserve that.”

You knew exactly who Marc was talking about. His relationship with his mother was pretty much non-existent at this point and you believed it was for the best. From what he had told you about her, she was absolutely horrible. 

“You’re not her, you’ll never be her. I know that in my heart,” That was true. It pained you to even imagine Marc comparing himself to someone so cruel. Yeah, he had his flaws but so did everyone else. He could be tough, but when it came to the people he loved the most, Marc was devoted to show them his best. You loved him, because he was the opposite of that woman. 

There had been moments when you were quite upset too. Marc always tried to calm you instead of letting you dive further into sadness. You were convinced he’d throw himself into open flames instead of letting you even consider it. He wasn’t the type of person to hurt anyone for fun. You felt perfectly safe around him.

“You don’t know that,” Marc was stubborn, clinging onto the negatives like glue.

“And you don’t know that either. Who knows what the future holds. I sincerely don’t see you turning into her. Everything else is uncertain, but when I think about the future, I just see you,” There was a sense of certainty in your words that reached Marc. It didn’t feel like something you said just to cheer him up, no. It sounded like you truly believed every word you spoke. 

“How are you so perfect?” Marc couldn’t believe how lucky he was to have met you. Truth be told, he felt undeserving of your love and devotion. Despite it all, you seemed so optimistic. Would you still be that way if he told you everything? Marc was afraid to let his mind wander that far. The thought of disappointing you to a point of no return was pure nightmare fuel to him.

“I’m not perfect,” You were quick to correct him, “but I’m doing my best, just like you. I know we’ll be fine as long as we try out best.”

Marc let your words sink in for a moment, relaxing a little bit as your fingers drew patterns on his arm. Somehow, you could make him feel lighter even when it felt like someone had tied cement blocks to his feet and pushed him off a bridge, sinking deeper and deeper into despair. Marc felt like his own worst enemy.

As he wasn’t saying anything, you decided to add onto that: “To be honest, I’m a little scared too. I’ve read all the parenting books and listened to my friends and family, but I know nothing will really prepare me for the reality of being a parent. What brings me comfort is knowing that we can figure everything out together.”

All of a sudden, you felt a tiny leg kicking you vigorously, as if the little one was trying to join in on the conversation.

“I think someone has something to say,” A smile spread on your face. You grabbed Marc’s hand and guided it to your bump, right above the spot your baby was kicking. It didn’t take long for it to happen again and seeing the joy light up in Marc’s brown eyes made you feel relieved. 

He leaned against you and pressed his hand gently against your bump, overwhelmed by sudden joy and love. The little one had good timing, that was for sure. Feeling the little kicks against the palm of his hand was something Marc was convinced he would never get used to. Every time, it felt just as bizarre and lovely. It reminded him of what was real,  a future that he still hadn’t had a chance to fuck up.

“Why are you kicking your mother like that, huh?” Marc played into it, trying to blink his tears away as he finally began to calm down. He wished he could say it would be the last time his anxiety would get the best of him, but as a realist, he knew it wasn’t true. For now, Marc tried to focus on this moment and that only.

Your baby kicked you again, harder this time which had you laughing. Even Marc cracked a smile, finding the sound of your laughter absolutely delightful. Marc wanted to make you smile and laugh for the rest of your lives, he needed to. It wasn’t that much of an unrealistic goal, yeah? 

“Well I don’t think they get that from you,” Marc contemplated, taking into consideration your gentle nature. You had the patience of a saint, which he assumed was why you were still by his side.

“Hmm, it’s definitely your baby, Marc,” You kissed his cheek after you said that, your lips soft against his stubble. 

Marc tilted his head and captured your lips into a kiss, much softer than usual. His hand held onto the back of your head as he deepened it, hoping from the bottom of his heart that the action could speak louder than the words he didn’t know how to express. The passion and intensity of the kiss made your heart flutter with desire and you knew exactly what he wanted to say, you could taste it in the way he almost desperately gave himself to you, heart and soul. Marc wasn’t a tender lover most of the time, which you didn’t mind, but right now he was showing a part of himself that was for your eyes only.

As you parted from the sweet kiss, Marc leaned his forehead against yours, his eyelashes tickling against your skin. For a moment, you stayed like that, close to each other in comfortable silence.

“I love you,” Marc whispered, needing to tell you that.

“I love you too,” You returned the meaningful words, heart racing in your chest as you soaked in the bliss. Seeing that the anxiety and worry had abandoned Marc’s face was a wonderful sight. For now, all seemed well.

You took a deep breath, and leaned against Marc’s shoulder, wanting to embrace this moment, knowing that it was one you’d cherish forever. 

No matter how often his worries tried to convince him it would be for the best to leave you alone, they could never tower over the love he had for you or the way your love wiped his mind clean from negative thoughts. The power you held over Marc Spector was unreal and only yours. Marc wouldn’t have it any other way. He would spend the rest of his life protecting you and your child from the world. Marc was sure of that now. 

A/N: I hope you liked it! :)

In my head this is happening right before Marc’s biological mom dies/before the series begin so he’ll leave anyway and Steven Grant goes on about his day, working at the gift shop. Just for some extra flavour and spice, he thinks Khonshu wants his kid to be his next avatar so he tries to make sure that’ll never happen. This is just temporary comfort. That’s just me though, because I love angst. 

#Marc Spector #Marc Spector x you #Marc Spector x Reader #Marc Spector x Y/N #Marc Spector/Reader #marc spector x fem!reader #moon knight x fem!reader #moon knight fanfiction #marc spector fanfiction #mcu fanfiction #marc spector angst #marc spector hurt/comfort

[mochamamii]

yandere!taeyong: no secrets.

▹ a/n : hello loves, I chose a really shitty title for this but whatever loll this is something I wrote in like a day, sometimes I write absolute filth for no reason, this is one of those times.

▹ triggers : yandere!au, detailed smut, unprotected sex + creampie, mirror sex, daddy kink but like not super heavy tho

▹ pairing : lee taeyong x chubbyfem!reader

▹ synopsis : keeping secrets from your yandere boyfriend probably isn’t the best idea...unlesss they’re lee taeyong (even then that’s risky bizness my friend.)

••

Taeyong sighed as he stared down at the text message on his phone, his grip on the steering wheel tightening until his knuckles turned white. He peered out the window of his car to glance across the street once more, staring at your apartment building.

He was parked across the street, his car parked far enough away that you wouldn’t be able to recognize his car from someone else’s.

Taeyong was immediately reminded of the lit cigarette he had in his other hand when the unflicked ash fell, slightly singeing the patch of skin on his leg where his ripped skinny jeans had left him exposed. He cursed under his breath, rolling the window down just enough to toss the still lit bud on the ground.

He was so distracted by you, more specifically, the blatant lie he had just caught you in that he completely forgot about his surroundings for a moment, causing him to let the cigarette burn almost entirely without ever flicking the ash.

You see, you and Taeyong have been dating for just a few months now.  You were in that weird limbo stage where you were transitioning from casual dating to exclusivity. At least for you that’s how it was.

Taeyong had already moved past that stage months ago. He was serious about you, he was just being courteous by allowing you time to feel the same. But he was steadily growing impatient with you and all your sudden antics.

Things were going perfectly fine in the beginning. You were perfect, every bit of innocence and naivety that Taeyong wanted. You checked off all the boxes for him. And he didn’t need you to tell him that you felt the same way. Which is why it was pissing him off that you seemed to suddenly start pulling away from him slowly.

You’d begun acting strange. Avoiding him lately, whereas before you always obediently jumped at the chance to spend time with him. You also had refused to be intimate with him for a few weeks now, which wouldn’t have been a problem on it’s own. Taeyong was patient when it came to things like that and he was willing to go slow.

But in this instance Taeyong felt he had a right to be upset. Even in the few short months you’d been dating, Taeyong had managed to turn you into a full on nympho. Molding you into his perfect little sex kitten, ready to do whatever he wanted and whenever. What changed?

All of these things, amongst others, have led Taeyong to conclude that you obviously must be seeing another man. What else could it be? Things were going so well and then you suddenly changed up without any explanation.

And most recently Taeyong had caught you red handed in a lie.

He texted you earlier in the day to ask if he could come and see you. You replied back saying you had been at work. An obvious lie because Taeyong had been parked outside your house since last night, watching your front door to see if he could catch anyone coming in or out. He felt bad for stalking you, especially since he vowed to himself that he would try to be less invasive this time around.

He really liked you and didn’t want to scare you off.

So he left, giving up after nearly four hours of watching your house and not seeing anything out of the ordinary. He had only come back this afternoon in hopes that he might catch you on your lunch break. You worked nearby and it wasn’t uncommon for you to come home during this time.

He got excited when he pulled up to see your car parked out front already, the need to see you face to face building inside him. He hadn’t seen you in nearly a week, you claimed you were swamped with work and that’s why you didn’t have much time to spend with him like you normally did. Taeyong could tell you were lying to him, he had to stop himself from marching up to your apartment right then and there confronting you about your lies.

But he wanted to be sure. He needed concrete proof that he was right about what had been going on with you.

So he texted you a second time, asking if you had decided to come home for lunch today. He had seen you upstairs in your bedroom window, moving around, he knew you were home. If you texted him back with a different response he could confirm you were lying to him.

Unsurprisingly enough, you replied back, saying you were still at work and would probably be working late tonight.

He scoffed as he reread your message. Rolling his eyes in annoyance as he peered up at your bedroom window, straining his eyes to try and see what you were doing exactly.

Taeyong stayed put in the car for a while, trying to decide what the best course of action would be. He wanted to just march up there to you but he didn’t know what he’d even say.

Quite frankly, Taeyong was a little embarrassed. He wished he didn’t feel so affected by you. If it were any other girl he’d have dropped them a long time ago, deciding they weren’t worth the trouble.

But this was you we were talking about...His precious baby girl, the girl who he was actively trying to change for. He had been pegged as the crazy, overbearing, sometimes even violent boyfriend by nearly all of his ex’s.

They weren’t wrong actually. Taeyong was all of those things. But he was trying to suppress that kind of behavior just for you. He wanted you to want him too, he didn’t want to feel like he was trapping you into a relationship with him. Things were so different with you.

As angry and as hurt Taeyong was because of you lying to him, he still couldn’t bring himself to actually be angry with you. He was upset about the situation, but not at you. Honestly, once he saw you in person he wasn’t sure if he’d want to raise his voice and yell at you, or bury his head between your thick thighs.

God...it had been so long since he was inside you.

Only a week actually, but even that was too long for Taeyong.

Not wanting to sit and wrestle with his thoughts any longer Taeyong climbed out of the car. He jogged up the front steps to your door, trying to measure his breathing as he did so. He almost raised his hand to knock until he remembered you always kept a spare under a nearby potted plant.

He had to check under a few before he picked up the right one.

With your spare key now in hand, Taeyong could slip through the front door quietly. Even though during his stakeouts he never saw anyone go in or out of the house he still wondered if there was a chance you were being unfaithful. If not that, what else could it be?

Whatever it was, he was going to confront you about it today. No longer would he be left in the dark like this.

He unlocked the door, slipping in as quiet as a mouse. He pushed the door closed behind him, gently as not to alert you, wherever you were in the house. He kicked his shoes off at the door, knowing he’d be much quieter with sock clad feet instead of the heavy boots he had on previously.

Taeyong’s ears perked up as he heard you drop something on the floor upstairs. Considering the part of the ceiling he heard the noise from he guessed you were in the bathroom upstairs. Taeyong’s feet carried him up the stairs to your bedroom, the door was left open ajar already.

Carefully, he peeked through the crack to ensure you weren’t in the bedroom, even through the tiny space in the doorway Taeyong could see your figure standing in the bathroom connected to your bedroom. He pushed the door open enough to slip inside.

Taeyong stood under the arch of the doorway to your bathroom, watching you with curious eyes, your back was facing him so you were still unaware of his presence behind you, he could see you were struggling to open something.

Taeyong was about to speak up and announce himself to you until he took quick note of how your frustration turned to panic as you furiously twisted and pulled at the cap of…a pill bottle?

Now Taeyong was really curious.

With one last heave you released a large puff of air as the cap twisted off the bottle, Taeyong quickly sprung into action, taking two long strides across the expanse of the bedroom to get to where you stood in the bathroom.

He was too late though and you had already swallowed one of whatever those pills were.

“Taeyong?” You jumped, startled as Taeyong snatched one of your wrists to spin you around to face him.

Your cheeks turned red as you tried to inconspicuously hide your other hand that still held the bottle of pills behind your back.

“Give it.” Is all Taeyong said, his grip on your wrist tightening.

You shifted awkwardly from one foot to the other, whenever Taeyong spoke in that demanding tone of his you’d always instantly obey and comply with whatever it was he wanted, not wanting to piss him off further.

But this time…this time you just couldn’t. You were too embarrassed, your hand felt frozen in place behind your back.

Growling, Taeyong spun you around and pushed you against the bathroom counter, pinning your arm behind your back as he retrieved the bottle of pills for himself.

You nearly toppled over because of his quick movements catching you so off guard. His firm hold on your arm pinned behind your back, catapulted you into the bathroom counter, your breasts plopping against the cool marble countertop.

Taeyong squinted his eyes to read the tiny print on the bottle, “What are these?” He asked, unfamiliar with the name of the pills.

You glanced up at him in the mirror, his jaw clenching as he tried to decipher what the long complicated name printed on the bottle meant.

It was as if you’d forgotten how to speak. Everything had happened so quickly and your mind was still taking a minute to process it all.

You had spent months trying to keep this one secret hidden from Taeyong. You went to any lengths possible if it meant protecting your secret. Even lying to him when necessary, which had become pretty frequent as of late.

All of it was catching up with you now.

Today would probably mark the end of your relationship, you were sure of it, there’s no way Taeyong would even be able to stomach the sight of you once he knows the truth. He’d probably think you were pathetic, too pathetic to be his girlfriend.

And you just couldn’t bring yourself to look him in the eye as your tower of lies came crashing down around you.

Your head fell, hanging shamefully as you tried to ignore Taeyong’s burning gaze.

Taeyong was growing impatient with you, wanting answers and wanting them now. His fingers tangled themselves in your hair, gripping your roots not so gently as he pulled your head back to force you to stare straight ahead, so you were looking directly at him in the mirror.

Your back arched instinctively as you stretched your body out to follow his hand, wincing slightly in pain as you did so.

“Tae…what are you doing here?-

You were cut off by Taeyong slamming his hips into your backside, pinning your own hips firmly against the counter as he trapped you under his weight. His hand in your hair moved to wrap around your throat from behind.

“I’m growing impatient with you Y/N. Tell me now and stop avoiding the question.” Taeyong said

“Tell me.”

Your eyes were slightly red, a little teary as you nervously glanced up at him once before parting your lips to speak.

Your eyes searched his black ones for approval, it’s like you were silently asking him without saying it,

Will you still want me after this?

Taeyong only softened temporarily as he took note of your reluctance, he used his free hand to rub small circles on your back to soothe you.

“T-They’re…appetite suppressants.” You answered shamefully.

Taeyong’s grip on you loosened as he listened.

“Appetite Suppressants?” He echoed, glancing down at the bottle and back at you.

Taeyong felt foolish and annoyed. You had been so secretive and sneaky lately, he was sure it was because you had another man in your life, not diet pills?

Taeyong screwed the cap of the bottle off with ease, dumping the rest of the pills down the toilet.

You had to swallow an audible groan. You had paid good money for those pills. They weren’t cheap over the counter pills, you had gone to your doctor to have them prescribe something stronger for you. Watching the pills be carelessly flushed down the toilet made you wince internally.

“You don’t need these. Stop taking them.” Taeyong demanded as he placed the empty bottle down on the counter.

“Understand?” He asked you, displeased with your lack of response.

“But…Taeyong. I need those.” You breathed softly, slowly raising up from the sink to turn around and face him.

“I need them Taeyong. I can’t just give them up, not yet, not till I’m-

“Why not?” He questioned.

Fat, ugly tears started to roll down your cheeks as you swallowed the lump in your throat, “I’m still not perfect enough for you yet.” You whispered softly.

It was hard to say it out loud but it was true. You constantly felt like a tub of lard next to Taeyong. You didn’t want to feel that way anymore. You wanted to walk beside him with pride. You couldn’t do that. Not yet at least. Not with your current body.

Taeyong really didn’t like that you were fighting him on this. You were so naturally submissive, always going out of your way to avoid conflict with people especially Taeyong, he could say almost anything and you would listen and obey to whatever he wanted or expected from you.

Mostly because it was just in your nature to be more on the submissive side, but also because you felt like you were incredibly lucky to have someone like Taeyong, who were you to be making demands?

Even when there were times that you disagreed on something and wanted to vocalize your opinion, Taeyong would whisper in your ear how much he loved you and how you just needed to let go and trust him.

Usually it worked too.

But Taeyong was in no mood to be that gentle with you, not that it would matter anyways. This is the one thing you know that you will always fight him on.

Your body.

Taeyong never entertained any conversations with you when it came to your weight and feeling insecure about your body. He waved them off as you being “silly” or something like that.

It wasn’t that Taeyong didn’t care. It’s just that he’s a yandere and has never known how to process any of his feelings in a relatively healthy way.

It’s easier for him to ignore the issue rather than confront it. He’s afraid he won’t know how to make you feel better. He doesn’t know how he can make you see the beauty that he sees.

“Don’t make me the reason that you’re desecrating your body this way.” Taeyong hissed, landing a harsh slap against your ass cheek for emphasis.

You yelped, already feeling the numb burning sensation spread across your afflicted skin.

Taeyong grabbed hold of your hair again, raising the top half of your body off the counter until your back was pressed flush up against his chest. He snaked one arm around your waist, locking you in place against him whilst the other remained tangled in your hair.

Your head fell back against his shoulder as you followed his hand to escape the painful friction at your roots.

You fell into place so naturally against Taeyong, your bodies molding together so perfectly.

Taeyong loved the way your body was so soft and squishy, he loved your thick full curves, your deliciously plump body is what had initially attracted him to you.

How could you possibly think that something already so perfect needed to be changed?

Taeyong pressed a gentle kiss to your neck, moving to nibble at your sensitive earlobe, “Darling. What’s it gonna take, hm?”

“What’s it gonna take to get you to stop obsessing over this?” Taeyong asked, his free hand beginning to roam your body.

“To stop…saying all these mean things about yourself?” Taeyong’s voice trailed as his hand slid down the length of your abdomen, his long slender fingers gliding across all of your rolls and stretch marks.

All you had on was an oversized t-shirt, Taeyong’s to be exact. One that he’d left over here before.

Seeing you in his clothes sent waves of electricity directly to the head of his cock, making him harden. He wanted you to wear his clothes all of the time, he wanted his smell to linger on your skin, letting everyone know you were his.

As much as he loved seeing you in his shirt he couldn’t wait to rip it off you.

Especially now with the way your hard nipples were poking through the thin cotton material, practically begging him to turn you around and assault them with his teeth and tongue.

He couldn’t wait.

He was going to do every dirty, lewd thing imaginable to you tonight. No part of your body would be left untouched once he was done.

He needed you to know that you’re beautiful. He had to show you just how in love with you and your body that he was. He didn’t know how to translate those feelings into words, just action.

Taeyong released his hold on your hair to be able to use both of his hands as he groped and fondled your body.

His hands moved up to your breasts, cupping them in his warm large hands through your shirt.

He kneaded them, moving to tug at your nipples through the fabric to make you mewl.

“Do you feel that baby?” Taeyong asked as he rolled his hips into your backside, his cock standing at full attention now, allowing you to easily feel his erection through his jeans.

“Do you see how badly I want you? Look at how hard I am and I’ve barely touched you.” Taeyong said , groaning as he rocked his hips against you once more. Loving the feeling of your round backside rubbing up against his cock. You were wet already and growing impatient with Taeyong’s teasing. Your clit throbbed painfully, desperately needing attention. You rutted your backside back against Taeyong, begging him to take you already.

Taeyong raised one of your legs up to rest on top of the counter, giving him perfect access to your pussy.

His shirt on you wasn’t long enough to cover the full expanse of your ass so as your leg raised up on the counter,  your glistening folds were revealed to him.

“Do you think you deserve to cum? After all you’ve done, all the sneaking around and the hiding? Do you really think I should give you any relief?” Taeyong teased as he used his fingers to slide up and down your slick slit, collecting your juices on his fingers.

“Please…” You begged with a pout, pushing back against him as you felt his fingers on you.

“Aht. Aht. No moving around or I’ll have to pin you against the counter like before.” He threatened as he stopped you from grinding your hips down against his fingers.

Feeling defeated you sighed, relaxing into his touch as you tried not to think about how badly you wanted to cum.

“Don’t look away from the mirror or I’ll stop.” Taeyong warned.

You nearly turned your head away momentarily to peek at what he was doing but decided against it at the last second.

Taeyong knelt down until he was level with your pussy. His warm breath fanned your skin sending shivers down your spine.

Taeyong’s soft wet tongue licked a single stripe along your slit, stopping at your clit to give it a single kiss before enclosing his soft lips around your bundle of nerves.

Your mouth dropped open as a moan fell past your lips.

Taeyong’s tongue worked quickly, alternating between lapping at your folds and sucking on your engorged clit.

You gripped the edge of the counter for support. You wanted to pull away from him when the pleasure became too intense but he smacked your ass whenever you moved so much as an inch away.

He released your clit from his mouth with an audible popping sound as he did so. Standing back up at his full height Taeyong took pleasure in seeing the way your eyes followed him in the mirror, eagerly waiting for his next move.

Taeyong unbuckled his belt and tugged his jeans down just enough, his cock bouncing up and slapping his abdomen as he released it from the confines of his briefs. A bead of precum was leaking from his head. Taeyong teased you by rubbing the head of his cock against your folds.

“Do you want to come? Wanna come as I pound this perfect pussy of yours with my cock? I don’t think you deserve it. You’ve been a bad kitten lately haven’t you? Sneaking around, hiding things from me, saying awful things about yourself, and making me worry…” Taeyong said, resting his chin against your shoulder as he met your gaze in the mirror.

“I’m sorry…” You whimpered, grinding your ass back against him.

“Are you really though?” Taeyong asked, his eyes narrowing at you.

“Yes. I’m so sorry.” You whined, growing desperate for release.

“Are you ever going to do something like this again, kitten?” He asked, slipping his hands under your shirt to roll your nipples in between his fingers.

“I won’t. I swear.”

Taeyong smirked, loving the sound of desperation in your voice.

“Do you promise? Tell daddy you promise to never do this again and he’ll give you what you want okay?”

He didn’t have to tell you twice before you were repeating over and over like a mantra, “I promise I’ll never do it again, daddy.” You fluttered your lashes at him in the mirror, hoping he’d sense your sincerity.

That was all Taeyong needed to see before backing up and sinking his cock deep into your pussy.

He groaned as your walls hungrily sucked him in, greedily accepting every inch of him.

You arched your back, raising your ass even higher in the air for him.

Taeyong was relentless in how he fucked you. His nails painfully dug into the flesh on your soft hips as he held onto them for support whilst he pounded you from behind.

“Do you hear how wet you are? This pussy is practically milking my cock.” Taeyong moaned, his eyes never leaving yours in the mirror.

He was right. You were so wet, the obscene squelching noises your pussy was making around his cock bounced off the four walls of the bathroom.

“Taeyong…” You moaned.

He moved one hand off your hip to rest against your hand that was lying on the counter, he grabbed your hand to lace your fingers together.

“That’s right baby. Look at yourself, look at how well you’re taking my cock…such a good girl for me, my beautiful good girl.”

You could’ve come right then and there just because of how dirty the words coming from Taeyong’s mouth were.

You felt warm and happy as he praised you, calling you a good girl for taking him so well.

Taeyong continued drilling into you, never losing the rhythm he had set or the speed he was going at. He kept repeating in your ear over and over how pretty you looked and how beautiful you were.

Usually compliments like that went in one ear and out the other, you never liked to dwell on them for long because you just didn’t believe them.

But now…right here, right now. Watching yourself in the mirror as Taeyong fucked you, the faces you were making, and the way your body instinctively rolled and grinded back against him.

Even you couldn’t deny the beauty of the scene before you.

You could see him in the mirror, watching as his hands gripped and groped at your flesh, his desire and want for you evident on his face, evident in the manner at which he was thrusting deep inside you as if his life depended on it.

Thrusting with a desperation that matched yours, you needed this, to feel him inside of you, filling and stretching your walls with a subtle sweet pain.

“Taeyong, I’m gonna come.” You warned, feeling yourself clench around him.

The essence of your shared arousal started to drip down your thigh.

“Then come for me.” Taeyong answered, reaching his hand around your waist to rub your clit, propelling you further into your state of euphoria.

You rocked your hips back against him, chasing after your own orgasm.

You moved to throw your head back and rest it on his shoulder but Taeyong was quick to push your head forward, reminding you with a slap on your ass to not look away from the mirror.

“I want you to watch as you come on my cock.” Taeyong growled, determination clear in his voice as he unsheathed his cock completely from your warmth only to slam his hips back into yours.

You squealed as Taeyong angled his thrusts upward to hit your g-spot. Your eyes welled with tears, and your hand gripped the edge of the counter as you braced yourself.

It only took Taeyong a few more strokes before you were clenching around him uncontrollably, your pussy creaming on his cock. You collapsed on the counter, too tired to hold yourself up anymore. You winced a little as Taeyong continued to drill into you, the pleasure turning into a slight burn as he overstimulated you.

You wiggled your hips, trying to bring your hiked up leg down from the counter whilst also inching away from Taeyong’s thrusts.

“Stay still.” Taeyong grunted, pinching your outer thigh.

Taeyong abused your poor cunt until he was ready to fill you with his seed. He made sure he was stuffed deep inside of you when he painted your walls with his cum.

Once the two of you had caught a minute to catch your breath, Taeyong carefully pulled out of you, making a mess between your thighs as he did so. Your empty pussy was now clenching on air, inadvertently pushing Taeyong’s cum out of your hole causing it to run down your inner thighs.

Taeyong leaned down to kiss the back of your neck, whispering sweet nothings in your ear as you came down from your high.

Finally, Taeyong pushed himself off of you to allow you to rise up from the counter. He turned you around to face him so he could properly kiss you on the lips.

“Wait, where are you going?” Taeyong asked as you kissed him before untangling your limbs from his.

“To shower?” You answered, one hand already on the nozzle of the tap to turn the shower on.

You were a sweaty, sticky mess, in desperate need of a nice long shower.

Taeyong smirked, pulling you back into his chest, “We’re still not done here.”

Your face must’ve said it all because before you got the chance to whine about being tired Taeyong was already pressing you up against the wall.

“Spread your legs again. Nice and wide for me...Daddy’s going to make sure you get all clean again…”

#nct x reader #nct taeyong #nct smut #nct smut reactions #nct yandere smut #nct yandere #yandere smut #yandere nct #chubby reader #chubby smut #chubby!reader #lee taeyong #lee taeyong smut #taeyong smut #yandere taeyong

[imthebadguyyy]

maybe something like interviewer asking her sexist questions and the boys stand up for her , after that interview she feels insecure and the boys comfort her . that's just an idea you don't have to write it !! <33

I hope you like it, and I'm so sorry about the delay 😭 I couldn't find my footing with this one, and I hope it's what you wanted ! Have a lovely day 💙

The One Where They're There For Her

Pairing - One Direction x Reader (6thmember!female!reader)

Fandom - One Direction (Directioners)

Summary - A particularly sexist interview decides to reduce you to just a sexual being and makes no effort to hide his misogyny. But the boys are there to support you.

Warnings - sexualization of the lgbt community, sexist comments, swearing, (honestly I hated myself for writing some of the comments here,and I'm so sorry)

Being a part of the biggest band in the world comes with certain responsibilities. Not responsibilities that come along with signing a recording contract, but those that a person deems themselves responsible for. For example, as the only female in a boyband, a female with a fanbase as large as yours, you took it upon yourself to always stand up for what's right, and to be an ally for the causes close to your heart.

That meant that your social media was often flooded with information about important causes, or your opinions on issues like feminism. Was it always well received? Heck no. There were people filled your feed with hate and comments calling you the most horrible names and labelling you a 'man hater' and a 'bitch' But you didn't let it get to you. On most days. On days like today, it was all you could do to keep it together. It had been a tiring few days, touring, recording, performing and doing an endless amount of interviews and photoshoots. It was safe to say you were on the last of your nerves, having battled your way through a makeup artist who had insisted on pointing out your flaws and had used a shit ton of makeup to cover them up. You had battled a photographer who had not hesitated to tell you that if you didn't look more feminine people would think you were turning into a man.

Before you could retaliate, Paul had dragged him away and told management to cancel the photoshoot, and find another photographer before grabbing the six of you some sandwiches and had let you all go back for a quick power nap at the hotel. Then in about half an hour he had woken you up, to get you ready for another interview. That's how you were here, in a white jumpsuit and a black blazer jacket, paired with black heels. Another day, another interviewer that got on your nerves. But this one, this one was different. This interviewer was different, but also the same. Another misogynistic man who thought he was entitled to stare at your ass and cleavage, and eye fuck you as you settled into a seat in between Niall and Zayn.

Settling in, you crossed one knee over the other, plastering a fake smile onto your face, as the man leaned back in his chair, throwing you a sleazy smirk. Noticing the look, Zayn shifted so you were out of view of the interviewer, but in view of the audience. It was in moments like this that you were a 100× more grateful to have your boys. They were well aware of how sleazy some interviewers could be, having had plenty of experience with them, and Zayn and Louis in particular were very protective about the way you were treated. Squeezing your thigh softly, he leaned back a little, lips settling into a thin line as he looked at the interviewer with a cold look. A little behind, Louis threw the interviewer a dirty look.

"So, One Direction! Congratulations on the album, as you all know its out on November the 22nd, with eighteen new songs, including the singles Night Changes and Steal My Girl Speaking of stealing girls, do you think I could steal your number Y/N? And may I mention, you look ver, very hot in that outfit" The interviewer joked, throwing you what he thought was a sexy smirk. (P.S - it wasn't) Answering with an awkward laugh, you shook your head, as Niall tensed up beside you. "Aww come on, your'e a pretty girl, I'm a handsome guy, let's go out sometime" he pressed on, ignoring the growing anger in Harry's eyes. "That's umm, nice. But no thanks, I'm not going to go out with you" was your answer, as you pushed a strand of hair behind your ear. Picking up on your nervous tic, Zayn moved his hand to rest on your knee, stopping it from bouncing up and down.

"Aww come on baby, what is it? You like girls or something? Because I wouldn't mind being a part of that action either" the sleazebag chuckled, ignoring the disgusted look Liam sent his way. "That's rude" Liam said, while Zayn tightened his grip on your knee. "Oh come on lads, are you telling me the idea doesn't appeal to you? Two women together, mm, makes me all excited just thinking about it, especially if one of them's Y/N" That comment was all it took for Louis to stand up, turning to the man and saying in a voice much rougher than his usual voice, "Alright, that's fuckin' enough, what the fuck is actually wrong with you?" he was backed up by Liam, who stood up, going to tower over the interviewer, whose eyes had lost some of the sleazy look in them. "All you've done since we walked in here is make those disgusting comments about Y/N, and it's sickening. Have some fucking respect" he practically spat.

Behind him, Zayn took your hand in his and pulled you to your feet, noticing the slight glossiness in them, leading you back to the dressing rooms, while Niall, Liam, Louis and Harry stayed back to continue to snap at the interviewer. "That is no way to treat a woman, and not only are you disrespecting her, you also made those god awful events about seeing women together. Your'e a shame to every single person in this room by talking like that" Harry continued, glancing over his shoulder to check if you were okay.

"And no, it doesn't excite us, because we are not assholes, and you are, a disgusting sleaze who does not deserve the job he has. Fuckin loser" Niall chimed in, standing up and storming out. Louis stood up as well, turning to directly face the cameras and the cameramen and sound technicians, who had all looked shocked when the man had made his comments towards you. "I sure as hell hope you have that on record, so you can see just how fucking sexist this industry is to women. Y/N does the same job as us, works just as hard and has the same number of awards, nominations, and records and yet you decide to only focus on her body, clothes, love life and sexuality. Get a fucking life" he spat at the camera, before walking away himself, eventually followed by Harry and Liam, who apologized to the outraged fans before leaving themselves. As they made their way to the dressing rooms they could hear the audience telling the interviewer to apologize to you, their anger at the way you were treated echoing through the building.

Walking in, Harry caught sigh of you curled up in one of the armchairs, with Louis sitting beside you, while Niall and Zayn talked to a furious Paul. "He had no damn right to treat her like shite, and you need to make sure that he knows those comments were un-fuckin-acceptable" Niall was saying, looking angrier than Harry had ever seen him. "And to make those sickening comments about wanting to get action? Can't we sue him for something?" Was Zayn's reply, glancing over his shoulder at you to make sure you were still okay. "We can't sue him, atleast I don't think we can, but I'll have someone let the smug bastard know that he needs to learn how to respect a woman" Paul said, before leaving the room to give the six of you some time together before you had to head back to the hotel.

"How're you feeling darling?" Louis said, moving over and patting your knee so you moved. "I'm okay" you mumbled back, letting Louis settle in next to you, leaning back to rest on his chest. "He had no fuckin right to say any of that, and don't you let it trouble you for a second" Zayn added, pouring out a cup of tea for you and for Louis and Harry. "I don't care about what he said, I couldn't care less, but it was just so frustrating, sitting there and listening to him just sexualize a whole community of people. You've got to be in a really sad place to think of shit like that. That's what annoyed me. You think I give a damn about what he said about my clothes or wanting to take me out on a date? It was the way he was talking, like he was sure any woman would be glad to have him that irked me. He's really tiresome" was your reply, as you reached forward for a sip of your tea. "That's the right attitude love. Haters gonna hate" Harry said.

"I know that. But I just wish I could punch him once, which sounds mean, but he does kind of deserve it" Niall said, earning a laugh from you. Niall was never usually aggressive, and even now, he wasn't particularly rude but it was rare to see him wanting to punch someone. "It's okay Niall, you don't have to. I can do it myself, but I won't" you replied, leaning up to squeeze his hand. "Besides, Ni, if you went and punched him, I'd do it too, and then we'd all go to jail" Liam chimed in, scrolling through his twitter. "Twitter isn't happy either babe. #stopsexualization and #Y/Ndeservesbetter is trending already" he added, showing you his phone. "If it means some of these sexist asses get their heads out of the sand, I'm happy. But I dont want to to think about it now" you replied, cuddling closer to the warmth radiating from Louis's body.

"Okay, we won't talk about it. Do you want to go back to the hotel?" Harry asked, standing up and walking to the door "No I want to go to Nando's. Anybody else hungry?" You asked, to nods of assent from the boys. "I'm starving. Those stupid sandwiches didn't fill me up at all" Zayn said, standing up to grab his coat and wallet. "I know and I'm craving some hot Peri Peri chicken with some fries. Do you think they'd let me put the lemon and herb sauce on the fries?" You asked, standing up yourself, earning a laugh from Louis. "Your'e an international superstar babe, I think they'd give you some lemon herb sauce" Liam joked.

Laughing, the six of you made your way to the car, with Harry and Niall squishing you in between them, as Louis sat in the back with Liam, and Zayn sat in the front with Paul (he was driving thank GOD) "I'm proud of you darling" Harry chimed in suddenly. "I am too" Niall added. "You know I am" Louis said, before Liam added "Always babe" and Zayn turned to smile at you before adding, "We are all proud of you, and we always will be, not only because you do a damn good job of not listening to the haters, but because you do what you think is right" "Awh come on, your'e gonna make me cry" you mumbled, leaning into Niall's shoulder. "Almost makes me feel bad for teasing you about having an extremely low spice tolerance the last time we were at Nando's Haz" you smirked, earning a roar of laughter from the boys.

"That chicken was spicy love!" "It was lemon and herb with no peri peri!" "And it was spicy!"

And just like that, you were back to messing around with each other. Sleazy interviewers would come and go, but your boys were always there to support you. Always.

-------

A/N - Thanks for reading ! I'd also like to apologize on the behalf of this fictitious interviewer I made up, I felt so bad while writing some of this 😭 anyways, I hope this is what you wanted! Enjoy !

Tags - @zaynkissbot @gucci-hazza @bxtchboy69

#one direction x reader #one direction x sixth member #one direction imagines #one direction fanfiction #one direction #harry styles x reader #liam payne x reader #louis tomlinson x reader #niall horan x reader #zayn malik x reader #imthebadguyyytags #harry styles #niall horan #liam payne #louis tomlinson #zayn malik

[thearvariblues]

Sing Me a Song

“You Geralt of Rivia’s bard?”

Jaskier looks up from his notepad and grins at the man who’s just sat at the opposite side of the table.

“Technically, I used to be,” the bard says, taking a sip of his ale. “We had a tiny misunderstanding last year. I’m sure he’s gonna be fine, though, I’m just giving him some time to cool down and wallow in self-pity.”

Jaskier frowns, because his brain has finally caught up with his mouth and informs him that even though the man who asked the question is very pretty (and he is – a bit short, but lean and clearly very agile, brown-skinned, with dark, wavy hair and stunningly unnatural green eyes), he also has got two big, scary swords strapped to his back, way too many scars and has, in fact, only one green eye, the other being covered by an eye patch, presumably missing.

And then there’s the Cat school medallion on his chest.

As Geralt would say… fuck.

“Unless you’re here to kidnap me and torture me to lure him into a trap. If that’s the case, I’ve never met a Geralt of Rivia in my life. Also, if you harm a hair on my head, he will hunt you down and kill you, very slowly and painfully. Just a heads up,” Jaskier smiles, utterly failing to sound at least a little bit threatening.

“Thanks for the warning,” the Witcher laughs. “But I actually need you to write me a song.”

“Sorry, I’m afraid this bard already has a Witcher to praise,” Jaskier protests, shaking his head firmly.

“Ugh. Who says I want praise?” the man says, making a face. “I just can’t seem to find a friend of mine, so I need to make him find me.”

“With a song? Do I look like a fucking pied piper?” Jaskier smirks.

“A little, yeah.”

“Fair enough. What’s in it for me?”

“What do you think is going to happen once Geralt hears that his bard has found himself a new muse?” the Witcher grins.

“Oh,” Jaskier says, chuckling. “Oh, but that’s good.”

“Are you in, then?”

“Absolutely. And, uhm… What did you say your name was?”

“By the gods, where are my manners?” the Witcher laughs. “I’m Aiden.”

*

Geralt places two tankards of ale on the table and sits down with a grunt.

“Don’t tell me you’re getting old, Wolf,” his brother Lambert smirks and promptly pulls one of the tankards closer. “Because that almost sounded like Vesemir when he’s trying to get up from his chair.”

“You’re so fucking funny,” Geralt murmurs.

“I know, right?” Lambert grins, tucking a strand of curly red hair behind his ear. “So, how’s life on the Path without your beloved bard?”

“Not my bard.”

“So pretty fucking terrible, eh?” Lambert chuckles.

“Fuck off, Lambert.”

“You’re being very nice and friendly today, you know?”

“I bought you a drink. So shut up and… drink.”

Lambert shrugs and for once does what he’s told. Within a few seconds, half of the tankard’s content vanishes.

“If it’s any consolation, life without my Cat is also pretty fucking unbearable,” he says then.

“Hm.”

“Oh, really, Geralt? You’re using your famous hm against me? Me, your brother?!”

Geralt groans.

“By the gods… Why can’t I just run into Eskel for once? Why does it always have to be you?”

“You’re just lucky, I guess.”

“Lucky. Yeah.”

Lambert rolls his eyes and focuses on his ale again – until the local bard grabs his lute and starts playing a slow, romantic ballad. Lambert growls.

“Fuck, I hate that song!”

“Why?” Geralt blinks, because he’s never heard the song before, and to be perfectly honest, it doesn’t really sound that bad.

“A brown-skinned woman with dark hair who’s seemingly killed, then comes back to life already plotting her revenge, only to find out that her lover’s already avenged her? Always reminds me of Aiden.”

“Aiden wasn’t exactly… A woman, was he?”

“He also hasn’t come back to life, as far as I know,” Lambert mutters.

“Who wrote it?” Geralt frowns, listening carefully. “It sounds like Jaskier’s work.”

“Some Master Dandelion. Never heard of him, but it seems he’s very popular now.”

“Hmmm…”

“Oh, not again!” Lambert groans.

“It just… It really does sound like Jaskier’s song.”

“You just fucking miss the bard, Geralt, that’s all.”

“No. No, I actually think…”

“That might be exactly the problem,” Lambert says and places his empty tankard back on the table. “The second round’s on me.”

*

“Seems like your plan’s not working as intended,” Jaskier comments. He’s spent weeks traveling with Aiden, and they still haven’t even heard about another Witcher trying to find them.

“I’m aware,” Aiden mutters, chewing his dinner without even noticing its taste – which is, honestly, probably for the best. “Could you be, like… less subtle?”

Jaskier shrugs.

“I suppose.”

“Fine,” Aiden nods. “Do it.”

*

“It’s a man now,” Geralt frowns, listening to the song he’s heard countless times already. “That’s new.”

“Looks like Master Dandelion might like to, uhm, dual wield,” Lambert snorts.

“It still sounds like Jaskier’s work.”

“Does Jaskier like to dual wield?”

“Hmm,” Geralt says dreamily.

“All the more reason to apologize, then, eh?”

“Oh, shut up, Lambert…”

*

“Still not working!” Aiden groans. He’s been waiting for three months for his Wolf to find him, and to no avail.

“I could, you know… Try something more obvious,” Jaskier offers.

“Please.”

*

“It’s a cat now,” Geralt blinks. “Dark-skinned, dark-haired… cat.”

Lambert sighs.

“Yeah, I hate those fucking metaphors.”

*

“I’m starting to think I should have just… kept trying to find him,” Aiden sighs, staring out of the tavern’s window.

Jaskier, cheeks still flushed from his performance, downs his ale and shakes his head.

“Don’t give up hope just yet,” he says. “I’ve already made a few changes to the song.”

“Oh, have you?” Aiden smirks. “Does it now say Lambert, I’m alive you moron, stop hiding and fucking find me?”

“Well, not yet… But almost.”

“Great. I can’t wait to hear it.”

*

Lambert is staring at yet another local bard singing the fucking ballad. He doesn’t even blink. Geralt is getting a little worried that his brother’s brain might have actually exploded.

“It says a Cat Witcher now,” he says, hoping it would get a reaction out of Lambert.

The redhead finally blinks. That’s probably good.

“A Cat Witcher who comes back to life only to find out his Wolf lover has already avenged him,” Geralt adds.

Lambert blinks again.

“And you know, I’m almost sure that this Master Dandelion is just Jaskier’s new alias.”

“I’m gonna fucking kill him,” Lambert mutters when the song finally comes to its end.

“Which one of them?” Geralt smirks.

“Both of them!” Lambert growls. “I swear to gods, if I find out your stupid bard stole my Cat…”

“Excuse me, madam,” Geralt says to the innkeeper who’s just brought them their dinner. “Where did your bard learn this song?”

“That sappy ballad?” the innkeeper frowns. “From this Master Dandelion himself. He passed through the town last week with a Witcher.”

“And Master Dandelion…”

“You know the bard that calls himself Jaskier? It’s him with a fancy hat on,” she smirks.

“About this Witcher,” Lambert growls. “Does he look like in the song?”

“Pretty much, yeah. Kind of small for a Witcher, and almost too pretty, you know, but we had a little griffin problem and he slayed that beast like it was nothing, so…”

“I’m so gonna kill them both,” Lambert murmurs while Geralt has to try very hard not to chuckle.

“Would you happen to know where were they heading?” he asks.

“I would,” the woman says and looks at the Witcher expectantly.

“I see,” Geralt sighs. “You have another monster problem, don’t you?”

“Well. It turns out the griffin probably had a mate…”

“Of course it fucking did,” Geralt nods and picks up his fork. He simply refuses to deal with this with an empty stomach…

*

Jaskier critically eyes the clothes he’s picked for tonight’s performance.

“What do you think, Aiden?” he asks his companion. “Isn’t the purple a bit too much? It’s a small town, after all. Wouldn’t the steel blue look better?”

“I don’t know, I like the red one best,” Aiden shrugs from his spot on the bed.

“Yeah, yeah, I know. Reminds you of Lambert’s hair,” Jaskier says, rolling his eyes. “Melitele’s tits, I wish he’d find us already, because this is getting really–”

As if on cue, the door of the room slams open and a big, red-haired man walks in.

“You fucking bitch!” he yells when he sees Aiden.

The dark-haired Witcher beams and gets to his feet.

“Lambs!”

“Oh. Okay. That was fast,” Jaskier nods.

Lambert growls and grabs Aiden by the collar.

“Asshole!” he hisses. “I fucking mourned you!”

“Oh, honey, that’s so sweet,” Aiden smiles.

Lambert pushes him against the wall, so hard that Aiden grunts.

“I cried for you!”

“In my defense, it wasn’t exactly my fault,” Aiden smiles.

Jaskier inches towards the door.

“I guess I’ll just… leave you two to it.”

Needless to say, Lambert ignores him completely.

“I fucking avenged you!”

“Yes, that was very kind of you,” Aiden grins, utterly unaffected by Lambert’s angry face so close to his own. “You saved me a lot of trouble.”

Lambert groans, buries his face in Aiden’s shoulder and sighs deeply.

“You fucker,” he mutters.

“Yeah, I missed you too, puppy,” Aiden smiles, wrapping his arms around Lambert.

Jaskier, who’s already standing in the doorway, places his hand on his heart and takes a deep breath.

“Oh,” he whispers. “I shall write the most beautiful ballad about this… Ow!”

He’s unceremoniously dragged out of the room and this time it’s his turned to be slammed against the wall by a big, angry Witcher – but this one is white-haired and dressed all in black.

“Geralt!” Jaskier exclaims, his face brightening up.

“You won’t write a fucking thing,” Geralt growls.

“Is that so? May I ask why, dear heart?”

“Because you’re mine. My bard. And if I ever find out you’re writing about another Witcher again–”

“Then what?” Jaskier asks, cocking his head. “But before you answer, I’d like to remind you that I am not yours anymore, as you have made it quite clear on the mountain that you are not interested in having me as a companion–”

Jaskier is effectively shut up by Geralt’s lips pressing against his with determination that makes it absolutely clear that Geralt hasn’t merely lost his balance and happened to be falling in Jaskier’s general direction.

“Mine,” he growls.

“Well,” Jaskier sighs, slipping his fingers into Geralt’s hair. “When you put it like that… Fuck the mountain, I suppose.”

“Fuck the mountain,” Geralt agrees. “But I’m sorry. For what I said.”

“Apology very much accepted,” Jaskier laughs. “I’d ask you to fuck me, but I’m afraid my room is currently… occupied.”

Lambert’s loud moan only confirms Jaskier’s statement.

“Hm,” Geralt hums. “Do you think this tavern has a bath? I think I still have some griffin blood in my hair from last week.”

“Oh,” Jaskier purrs. “Oh, yes. And I’m sure I could get some chamomile oil…”

They hear another moan, this time Aiden’s.

“What are we waiting for, then?” Geralt grins and grabs Jaskier’s hand. “Come on, bard. We have some catching up to do…”

#the witcher #witcher fanfiction #geraskier #geralt x jaskier #jaskier x geralt #lambden #lambert x aiden #idiots in love #(but mostly they're just idiots) #aiden lived bitches #major character resurrection #they're stupid your honor #my fics #attempt at humor

[bekaroth-reads]

Hello there! I want to start off by saying that I love your writing! You always write the characters so well.

I was wondering if you could do some Lupin gang x reader headcannons with an extraordinarily strong reader? Like what would there reaction be to them looking for something they lost and lifting the couch up with one hand, or there reaction if the reader picked them up with no difficulty.

Feel free to ignore if that's overwhelming at all lol.

[First of all thank you :) You're very nice :)]

[This was super fun to write so thanks for the ask]

Lupin

So, he lost a jewel that he was supposed to move to another hide-out

At first, he thought that Fujiko had swiped it but she hadn’t seen it either

So, the two of you were looking everywhere for it

That’s when you walked into the living room to see him knelt down trying to look under that couch

Without thinking about it you walked over and lifted it for him

Suddenly that jewel wasn’t the most interesting thing on his mind anymore

He stood up, looked at the couch, then at you, then said, “Now me.”

You do lift him, of course

But, in doing so you have now created a monster

Will plead, beg, and give you the biggest puppy eyes you’ve ever seen if you don’t pick him up right away when he asks you now

Jigen

The two of you were scouting out a castle for a job in the next few weeks

The only spot that you could safely spy from was from a bit away behind a large, stone wall

There were a few openings in the wall but they were very thin so it was difficult to see anything through them

So, there was Jigen, standing on his tiptoes, still not able to see over the wall even with those gangly legs of his

“God, what a pain in the ass! If only I were taller by like- WOAH! Hey-“

He was thrown off when you sat him on your shoulders

Almost forgets to look over the security of the place like he was supposed to

Just sitting there like (O- O)

It certainly makes him feel something, but he’s not sure if he’s ready to come to terms with what those feelings are

Goemon

He had just finished training for the day and had left quite the mess

One of the main problems was multiple logs and even more bits of logs from practicing with his sword

While he would have been happy to leave them for later, there had been one too many times where one or the other of you had tripped on the debris from him doing this

You knew that it might take him a while so you offer to help

“No, but thank you. I’m sure you probably would have trouble with most-“

He cut himself off when he turned to see you carrying a piece of lumber that even he might have some trouble with

You ever see a Goemon swoon before? Because you might just have to catch him from fainting

You have strength and strength is HOT

Fujiko

The two of you were having a day out on the town

And of course, that meant that she had to look her cutest

And now about four hours in, she was wishing she listened to you and didn’t wear boots with such high heels

You noticed that she was having a difficult time keeping up after the most recent store that you had gone to

She was quick to wave it off when you went to go check on her

“Don’t worry, sweetheart. I won’t have you carry all of the bags and me.”

While she was giggling at the thought, she didn’t notice you shifting all of her shopping bags to one arm

The next thing she knew she was being hoisted up to sit on your shoulder as you made your way down the street

Much like with Lupin, you have created a monster

She now sees wearing crazy heels as having little to no consequences as she knows you’re more than willing to carry her at a moment's notice

Zenigata

That damned Lupin was getting away…again

And to make things worse you were actually here to see it this time

What he was hoping to be an opportunity to show off for you ended up being a way to embarrass himself twice over

The thief had just jumped in a car and sped off, the inspector not far behind on foot

As he ran to get to one of the other police cruisers across the road, he was suddenly stopped by someone grabbing him and moving him back a few meters right before a truck zoomed by where he was just standing

“I could have died! Good thing my men were paying more attention than I was!” He thought to himself once his heart started again

He looked at the arms still wrapped under his and holding him a few centimeters off of the ground and realized that they didn’t belong to one of his officers. They belonged to you

Now he was blushing for more reasons than the embarrassment with what happened with Lupin

His men were impressed too

It’s not easy to stop a full-speed Zenigata

Some of them even asked how serious your relationship was with hopes of having a shot

That, was, of course, followed by them all getting an earful

#lupin iii x reader #lupin x reader #daisuke jigen x reader #jigen x reader #goemon ishikawa xiii x reader #goemon x reader #fujiko mine x reader #fujiko x reader #koichi zenigata x reader #zenigata x reader

[obanzi]

hello! so I saw requests were open! can I get the reaction of the hashira boys when their shy s/o suddenly confesses to them? Thank u in advance

yeah mhm !! idk i just got in the mood to write this .

༄ Sudden Confession !

Summary ⤳ Hashira reacting to y/n’s sudden confession !!

TWS / Mentions ⤳ n/a

Featuring ⤳ hashira boys

Author’s Note ⤳ i had some trouble writing Uzui so forgive me :(

❥ Rengoku Kyojuro

You were Rengoku’s Tsugoku , now , it was a regular day of training . Alright so just to get some things clear .. you had a massive crush on rengoku ever since you first saw him !!

Anyways , you couldn’t hold back anymore . All you wanted was the Flame Hashira’s love . While during your break time , you just let loose without thinking twice ..

“Rengoku-san .. I know this is sudden but I like you !!”

Rengoku was caught off guard . BIG TIME — like , wtf ?? How did he not notice this .. he was redder than the devil !! Even so , rengoku answered even with his sweating face .

“I like you too Y/N - san !!”

❥ Iguro Obanai

You and Obanai were out on lunch with just finishing a mission , you both went to your favorite ramen shop !! Obanai loves the tea there while you love the ramen .

You and Obanai’s friendship was something that you both enjoyed every much and would hate for it to go somewhere else .. even if you both wanted to stay friends . The universe had different plans for you two ..

You were currently thinking about your feelings for Obanai while waiting for your ramen to arrive . Meanwhile , Obanai was deciding whether he should get black or green tea ..

Without thinking twice or even waiting for your ramen to arrive . You just spit it out .. “Iguro-San , I think .. I like you .” While covering your face with your hands .

That’s when Obanai went red , just like straight up red . It was so sudden that his mind went blank !! That lunch was a little awkward after .. but don’t worry . I’m sure things will turn out find :D

❥ Sanemi Shinazugawa

Sanemi was your best friend , you two are a chaotic duo . While sanemi thought he never caught feelings , you on the other hand have . I mean , how could you not ? He might look scary to some but you think he looks handsome !! All you wanna do his kiss his scars and tell him how much you love him .

Alright so put that aside for now , you two were doing the Hashira training . You were asked to help with pounding training !! While sanemi was scolding some of the lower rank demon slayers , you were just looking at him . Not in a weird way .. like more in a “ur cute” look .

Once he was finished , he caught you looking . “What the fuck are you looking at ?” , he was honestly a bit confused . And without any thinking .. “You , you look cute .”

Both you froze . You had just figured out what you said and got extremely embarrassed and started covering your face . Meanwhile , Sanemi was .. he didn’t know what to think . Woah you like him ? You think he looks cute ? Is he cute ? What does this mean ? I thought we were just friends ? Yeah , a lot of questions in his head right now .. 

Although once you both sort it out , maybe something will happen . Who knows ? Just gotta throw your hints luv >:)

❥ Muichiro Tokito ( Aged Up )

You were Muichiro’s Tsugoku , as much as he is forgetful he is cute !! Is what you tell yourself most of the time . Even if he could never catch onto your hints , you still love him either way .

One day , you two were taking a break . With him laying down and you still sitting up , both of you were looking up at the clouds ! While you two were looking at the lovely clouds , you couldn’t help but notice mui’s adorable face !! Trying figure out what some clouds look like .

You couldn’t help but squeal out “you’re so cute mui-Kun !!” While holding both of your red cheeks . You honestly didn’t care if he heard or not .. you knew he was going to forget anyways .

... He didn’t . There was a small tint on pink on his cheeks but barely visible ! He actually liked you too although he wasn’t so sure of his whole romance thing so he waited and kept his feelings to himself .

Although with your small confession , he had some hope . At the end of the day .. he will confront you about this <3

❥ Himejima Gyomei

Alright so your friends with Genya !! Genya sees you as a mother to him . So basically you hang around gyomei and genya a lot — after staying around the two for most of your life , you had caught feelings for the big giant !!

After a few lunches with him , this became a normal for the both of you . So it was one of those lunches today — you were talking to gyomei about the lovely flowers you walked by before you got here .

“They were such a lovely pink ! Ah , I wish I could’ve taken them with me .” Is what you said while taking a bite into your rice bowl . After a few minutes of talking , you decided maybe it was time . Yeah , sure it was sudden but .. you loved him a lot and this is what you wanted to do .

“I’m not the best at confessing but .. gyomei-San , I love you a lot !” You said laughing while giving a cheeky smile . And you swear to GOD you saw a small tear out of gyomei’s eyes . You started to panic and ask if he’s okay !!

Gyomei was okay , just surprised . Someone like you .. can love someone like him ..? Although don’t worry .. I’m sure something will work out :)

❥ Uzui Tengen

Uzui already had 3 wives but who said he can’t have 4 ? Sure you and Uzui were still talking but maybe something could go on . Anyways , you had kinda a crush on Uzui . Although you were restraining yourself since he already had 3 wives .

Even so , you get along with his 3 wives a lot !! They all like you , they also knew you had a thing for Uzui . So it was a huge win - win . Maybe something could work out ..

One day , you and the girls were talking about these cute clothes at the market . Once that conversation died down a bit .. the girls asked you something that would completely get you off guard ..

“so y/n-chan .. do you have a crush !!?” Suma would ask you while the two other girls waited for an answer . You couldn’t decide if you should tell them or not .. you had no idea how they were gonna react . What should you do ??

Just as you were about to say something else , Uzui did a sneak attack on all of you — “boo !!” All of you ( expect Makio ) all jumped . “Hey girls !! Watcha talking about ~?”

“Oh nothing !! Just talking about how much i like youuu .....” that’s when you covered your face and got really embarrassed ... have fun luv .

❥ Giyuu Tomioka

Both you and Giyuu were pretty quiet . Although that didn’t stop you for catching feelings for the Water Pillar , he was quite handsome even if most people don’t like him . He’s also a great listener :D

There were many things that you loved about him . Although you kept that to yourself .. at least you tried too . One night , both you and Giyuu were out doing a night guard .

“The moon is nice today , too bad we have to keep watch .” You said looking up at the sky , enjoying the moonlight hitting your face .

You looked back at the small town before you looked at Giyuu and smiled . Oh , how he looked so cute focusing . You couldn’t help but blush and admire him !! Although , accidentally .. you said something that could maybe change a few things .

“Ah you’re so cute Giyuu-San ! I wish I could give you kiss —” .... yeah that might have been obvious . Literally Giyuu coughed and covered his face . I think he likes you too !!

© obanzi , do not copy or steal my work . And please don’t share my work on other media platforms ! Thank you .

#anime #demon slayer #kny #demon slayer obanai #kny obanai #rengoku fluff #rengoku kyojuro headcanons #rengoku x reader #obanai x reader #sanemi shinaguzawa #sanemi x reader #kny sanemi #uzui x reader #kimetsu no yaiba uzui #muichiro fluff #demon slayer muichiro #muichiro x you #demon slayer gyomei #gyomei x reader #kny gyomei #kny giyuu #tomioka giyuu #giyuu x you #giyuu fluff #obanai fluff #demon slayer hashira #kny hashira #kny fluff #demon slayer fluff #hashira x reader

[free-pool-trash]

x of swords - george weasley

part one of three

Summary: Growing up as Harry’s neighbor, you always believed that you were completely regular. In an attempt to feel closer to Harry (your best friend) you begin to dabble in the art of divination and, in the process, you uncover magic that you didn’t know you had. (i hate doing summaries this does not sum it up but you get the jist)

Relationships: George Weasley x Reader, platonic!Harry Potter x Reader, platonic!OC x Reader, platonic!Sirius Black x Reader, platonic!Remus Lupin x Reader, platonic!Fred Weasley x Reader, platonic!Nymphadora Tonks x Reader, platonic!Molly Weasley x Reader, platonic!Hermoine Granger x Reader, Sirius Black x Remus Lupin

Warnings: Swearing, anxiety, fluff, angst, mentions of torture, mentions of death (let me know if I missed anything!)

Word count: 22.9k 

so here it is 😏 i was going to wait until i was completely finished with this to post it but i didn’t wanna rush it and oh my god it’s already so long  😫 I’m moving to Edinburgh in 2 weeks so i won’t be able to write as i have so much to pack so i hope this keeps some of you happy for a while <3 obviously i put a lot of effort into this and spent a lot of time on it so i really hope yall like it and i will personally kiss everyone who comments. likes or reblogs <3

mastelist

Life on Privet Drive was definitely something- something being incredibly boring. Nothing even remotely exciting happened on the street and the company was, to put it simply, miserable.

You’d lived in 5 Privet Drive since birth which, unfortunately for you, meant that your family are extremely close with the Dursleys who live next door. The Dursleys are a family of bigoted, pig-headed bullies. Made up of Petunia, Vernon, Dudley and, in your opinion the only tolerable one, Harry.

From the age of five, Harry had been your only friend on the street and vice versa. Initially, the both of you had bonded over your dislike of Dudley but as the years rolled on Harry and yourself had become virtually inseparable.

It was certainly strange- how close your parents were with Petunia and Vernon. Your mother and father are actually quite lovely, they are the complete opposite of the Dursleys, they’re open minded, kind and extremely friendly. But, you supposed, their friendliness didn’t discriminate from person to person, even if said person forced their orphaned nephew to sleep in the cupboard underneath the stairs.

There was no denying that Harry had been miserable with the Dursleys, who were unfortunately his only remaining family and you supposed you should’ve been happy when your best friend finally got away from them after his 11th birthday.

You’d missed him for the entire school year and you only got a chance to ask where he’d actually gone off to when he’d arrived home for the summer. (You didn’t believe the story Vernon had spun about Harry attending a boarding school for juvenile trouble makers).

“It’s incredible, (Y/n), honestly! I wish you could be there too.” He’d told you when you finally saw him again, after he’d finished his first year in his mysterious boarding school.

“That’s great, Haz, but where exactly is it?” You wondered and Harry only gave you his signature grin.

“Scotland.”

With a heavy sigh you let the subject go, he was clearly happy wherever he was going to school so it didn’t matter where or what it was. As long as he was happy.

By the time his 12th birthday rolled around you’d found the perfect gift for him. You’d made your parents buy you a polaroid camera for him to take away to school, he’d told you so many amazing stories about his school, you wanted to see some of it for yourself so you figured a camera would be the best course of action.

The morning of his birthday, Harry was woken up by the sound of pebbles tapping against his barred up window. The boy looked out to see you waving at him, an excited smile on your face and a neatly wrapped present in your other hand. Harry couldn’t stop the smile that formed on his face as you beckoned him down with your hand. It was barely dawn but you knew better than to give a present for Harry to either his aunt or uncle because they’d only give it to Dudley, so it was best to get it to him before the rest of his supposed family woke up.

Hogwarts was amazing and Harry was over the moon to have discovered he was a wizard and make so many new friends, but he had missed you- his only friend in the muggle world. Your birthday was only a few weeks after his and he hoped that maybe you’d get a hogwarts letter of your own, obviously that hadn’t happened. Nonetheless he was happy to see you in the summer, he couldn’t shake the thought that Ron and Hermione would have loved to meet you though.

Slowly and quietly, Harry snook down the stairs and out the front door to meet you.

“Happy birthday, Haz!” You whisper-shouted excitedly, pulling the green-eyed boy into your house so he wouldn’t get caught outside when he wasn’t even allowed out of his bedroom.

Harry rolled his eyes at the nickname, “I hope you know that you’re still the only person who calls me that.”

“Good,” you said happily, closing the front door behind you. “Anyway, I got you something that you can bring away to school with you!” He rose an eyebrow at you as you pushed the carefully wrapped box into his hands, “Open it,” you instructed. And so he did.

It was very possibly the most expensive gift he’d ever gotten, you (or your parents) usually got Harry presents that couldn’t be stolen by Dudley. For example, your mother had taken to buying Harry his own clothes, seeing as your best friend was a lot taller and thinner than his horrid cousin.

You, on the other hand, would usually make him gifts with sentimental value, something Dudley had absolutely zero interest in. The camera though, you knew would be safe as Harry would be leaving for school again soon enough.

Harry stared dumbfounded at the cardboard box that held the rather large polaroid camera, judging by the image on the box it was a good quality thing, probably expensive. “This is… really nice, (Y/n).”

A bright smile found your lips as you rushed into an animated explanation about why you’d picked a camera as his birthday present this year.

“So you can take lots of pictures of you and your new friends in your new fancy private school and when you come back here you can show them to me!” Harry chuckled and nodded his head, hoping he’d be able to find time to take pictures like you wanted.

“I’ll take pictures of everything. Promise.” He told you, holding out his pinky with a cheeky grin. You linked your pinky with his and nodded gratefully.

“We should christen it,” Harry announced, tearing into the box and he quickly set the camera up before he pointed it at you expectantly. “Well, come on then. I’ve told my school friends all about you, they’re going to want to see what you look like too. So, smile-“ with a disbelieving laugh, you crossed your legs underneath yourself from where you were sitting on the floor across from Harry, and tucked your hair behind your ears before you looked directly at the lense of the camera and gave it the brightest smile you could muster. The camera flashed and the picture slowly revealed itself, it seemed to be good enough to satisfy Harry’s twelve year old self.

He’d shown the polaroid to Hermione first, the bushy haired girl had smiled softly as she held the polaroid gently, “She seems lovely, Harry.”

Harry had nodded his head in agreement, you were lovely. He just hoped Dudley wasn’t terrorising you too much while he was away. His cousin always had somewhat of a crush on you, which Harry knew was ridiculous considering you all but loathed Dudley.

True to his word, Harry had taken plenty of pictures, many were of (non-magic) areas of the Hogwarts campus, many were of his friends; Ron, Hermione, Fred and George Weasley (who had an absolute field day with the muggle contraption), one or two of Hagrid and he even managed to capture a nice one of the owlery. Although you were one of his best friends, sometimes thinking about you while he was in Hogwarts brought his mood down. It reminded him of how much he wished you could’ve shared in his adventures and not to mention how much he missed you, you could hardly send him an owl, what with being a muggle and all, so he only got to spend time with you during the summer months.

Things had changed during his third year, though. When he received a rather shocking, albeit very welcome, letter.

Dear Harry,

I’d like to start by saying: hi, how are you? How’s school? Good? Great. Now that that’s out of the way… when you come home I’m going to KILL you!!! I cannot believe you didn’t tell me you are a wizard! Well, I understand why you didn’t but anyway.

You’re probably wondering how I found all of this out. Long story short, I saw Vernon’s sister floating around your sitting room and then I saw you running out swinging a wand around. I put two and two together. You would not believe how long it took me to figure out how to get in contact with you. I practically had to beg Dudley to tell me how to get this package to you, he eventually told me how in exchange for a kiss on the cheek. It was as horrifying as it sounds, the things I do for you, Haz, honestly. Don’t worry though, you can make it up to me over the summer.

I bought an owl by the way. I’m guessing she found you okay? Look after her for a little while before sending her back will you? She’s just a baby so she can’t do too much long distance travel just yet.The lady I got her from is a witch, she was very kind and knew exactly what I was looking to use an owl for. Her name is Astra (the owl’s not the lady’s)! Isn’t she lovely?

Moving on from that, I felt bad forcing you to send me pictures and getting nothing in return so I have decided to very kindly grace you with my exhilaratingly normal life. You will also find I sent you some of those sweets you like.

Tell Ron and Hermione that I said hi! Oh and Fred and George too! Get into lots of trouble for me ;) I suppose I better stop rambling now, sorry about that I’m just excited (and i might be missing you… just a tiny bit!)

Write back to me soon, if you can! Tell Astra I’m proud of her for making her first delivery! (give her plenty of treats for me yeah?)

I’ll let you get back to your wizardy stuff now, Haz.

Lots of love,

(Y/n) xoxo

P.s. your magical secret is safe with me. promise.

Harry looked up from your letter with a dazed smile, your new little owl was looking at him expectantly, no doubt awaiting her treat, “Good job, Astra. Your owner says she’s very proud of you,” he informed her, handing her a piece of bacon from his breakfast plate and laughed when she hooted happily.

Astra is a gorgeous little tawny, she has brown and white feathers that were fluffy to the touch. Harry could already tell she was well suited to you though, she was friendly as anything with the most curious eyes he’d ever seen.

“Whose it from?” Ron grunted from beside him, munching happily on his huge breakfast.

Harry let out a short laugh, digging into the envelope to pull out the photos and sweets you’d sent, “(Y/n).”

“I thought she didn’t know about you?” Hermione asked from beside Ron, Harry only shrugged.

“She figured it out. She’s quite clever, I think you’d like her Hermione. She says hi by the way.” He answered somewhat distantly, distracted by the pictures you’d sent, all of which had writing on the backs. He paused on one photo, he guessed one of your parents had taken it, you were stood in the woods, surrounded by trees with a huge smile on your face, your eyes were closed and your nose was scrunched up as a very tiny Astra seemed to be nibbling at your ear affectionately.

“I’m sure we’d get along, I admire her determination, really. And she even bought an owl?” The girl questioned, reaching over and petting Astra gently.

Harry’s smile was gentle as Astra hopped onto his shoulder, “Yeah, suppose she did.”

“Alright! I’m gonna say it!” George Weasley exclaimed, plucking the photo of you from Harry’s grasp, he held it between himself and Fred, the older twin had somehow swiped the letter you’d written. “Harry’s girlfriend back home is quite cute, don’t you think, Freddie?” Fred nodded resolutely, pushing the letter into George’s face as he pointed towards a specific line.

“I have to agree and look, Georgie, she told Harry to tell us that she says hi! Ugh, such a darling,” Fred fake swooned and Harry felt his face heat up while George made kissy faces.

“She’s not my girlfriend.” Yeah, you had opened Harry up to a whole new world of teasing yet somehow he didn’t mind.

“Oi, do you think she’d like some of our Weasley products?” George asked genuinely, wiggling his eyebrows. Harry shuddered at the thought of you getting a hold of anything that Fred and George had created, because yes, you would like some magical pranking products. You had quite a talent for mischief, only in Harry’s worst nightmares would the Weasley twins ever get their hands on you.

Harry shrugged his shoulders nonchalantly, “Dunno.”

“She single?” Fred asked jokingly and Harry scrunched his face up. He supposed you were single, though, he’d never really pictured you with anyone. He felt quite protective over you, but he supposed he'd like to see you happy with someone he approved of- or alternatively; anyone but Dudley.

“Think so,” Harry told him with another shrug before a cheeky grin spread across his lips, as he focused his attention on the twins who were nudging each other in mock victory, “Why? Should I write home and tell her the esteemed Weasley twins have a crush on her?”

George was the first the speak, he nodded, completely serious and Harry found himself worrying that perhaps one of the Weasley twins would get his hands on you.

“Yes. Absolutely,” Fred snorted and said no more, allowing his younger twin to continue the girl based antics seeing as Fred’s actual crush, Angelina, had started to glare. “In fact, give her my name. Tell her to write to me next time, eh?”

Harry’s eyes widened, oh Merlin, George was serious.

“Oh sod off, would you? The poor girl is a muggle, she’d throw herself off the astronomy tower if she got stuck with either of you prats.” Ron said through a laugh, none of them could deny it was quite funny, even Hermione had to bite back a smile at the chaos your simple letter had caused.

Around two weeks had passed until Astra returned to you, two letters attached to her leg this time.

You greeted her with a warm smile as she landed on the inside of you window, “Welcome home, pretty lady! Did you have a nice trip?” You cooed, patting her feathers and giggling when she nuzzled her head against your fingers. Having a magical owl as a pet was weird, but still, you seemed to be managing her okay.

Astra hooted happily, as if informing you that she did, in fact, have a nice trip. “That’s good! Let me take these letters off and you can have a well deserved rest, I’ve made a nice nest up for you,” you rambled softly as you untied the string that was holding the letters to her leg.

Astra hooted, hopping onto your arm and allowing you to place her on the plush pile of pillows and blankets which she immediately made herself comfortable upon, once again hooting in content when you placed a handful of treats in front of her.

You assumed that both letters were from Harry until you noticed the messy handwriting that covered one of the envelopes, handwriting that definitely didn’t belong to Harry. Besides, never, even in the furthest reaches of your imagination, would your best friend ever refer to you as; “Harry’s Pretty Neighbour”. You set that one to the side for the time being and focused on the letter you knew to actually be from Harry.

Dear (Y/n),

Hi. Sorry I didn’t tell you I was a wizard. If it makes you feel better I was actually planning on telling you this summer, but thank you for saving me from that conversation. I miss you too (only a tad). I hope you’re having a good school year so far, it’s been pretty chaotic here but I promise I’ll tell you every single tiny detail when we see each other at the end of May!

Did Astra get home okay? She’s a really lovely owl, she took quite a liking to George who (terrifyingly) has taken quite a liking to you. He’s been badgering me all week for “permission” to write to you, in his words, “just to say hello.” I think you’d actually get along but he and the rest of his family are very magic oriented, I’d be surprised if he didn’t scare you away… the pair of you together would be my worst nightmare. Don’t even get me started on how I’d feel if Fred was in the mix too. I’m tired just thinking about it.

Thank you for the sweets they were lovely, I put a chocolate frog in the envelope for you, it’s a really popular sweet in the wizarding world- don’t freak out when it hops, it’s just a charm the frog isn’t really alive.

I enjoyed the pictures too, I put a few in this letter for you too, the polaroid is running out of film but it should be enough to keep me going until the end of term.

Write to me again soon, I like hearing from you.

Take care,

Harry.

P.S. I’m really sorry you had to kiss Dudley, I’ll do something to make it up to you. Promise.

P.P.S. If George OR Fred manage to write to you PLEASE don’t eat anything they give you.

With a laugh you set the letter down beside you. Curiously, you reached a hand into the ivory envelope and pulled out the peculiarly shaped chocolate box as well as the polaroids. You viewed the photos with a fond smile, Harry always looked so happy, even with whatever chaos was happening around him. Wizard school definitely made your best friend the happiest he’d ever been.

Opening the next letter, which you now guessed judging by Harry’s letter, came from George Weasley, Harry’s friend Ron’s older brother. That was all you knew about him. You let out a gasp once you opened the seal, a small show of tiny fireworks shot out, exploding in balls of reds and oranges across your bedroom before they disappeared as if they’d never been there in the first place.

Slightly frazzled, yet amazed, you cautiously plucked the letter from the envelope and began reading.

Hello, Harry’s Pretty Neighbour.

I hope you enjoyed the show, hopefully it didn’t startle you too much… I’m not exactly sure what muggles are used to… if it did scare you I’m sorry.

Anyway, just wanted to say hi. Promised Harry I wouldn’t spook you, he’s quite protective of you, you know. It’s very sweet.

I don’t blame him, though. If I had a friend as pretty as you I’d be protective too ;)

Don’t break my heart, write back?

Yours truly,

George Weasley x

And that had been the start of it. Two years had passed since you’d discovered the wizarding world and it seemed as though things had simultaneously gotten worse and better. As it turns out, your lifelong best friend was some sort of prophetic hero in the wizard community and on top of that it seemed that there was a war brewing that he would be expected to lead.

Of course, you were completely useless as you don’t possess the ability to perform magic which also means you're at risk of being hate crimed by some classist, wizard, blood supremacists? You weren’t sure. But Harry was worried.

You’d been writing back and forth to a few of Harry’s Hogwarts friends (your friends now too) for a long while now, you’d even gotten a chance to finally meet them when you’d gone with the Dursleys to collect Harry from King’s Cross Station.

You got along best with Hermione seeing as she was raised similarly to yourself and Harry. However, of all of Harry’s school mates, you liked George the most. Everyone could have predicted it really, you’d been writing to each other constantly and the second you’d clapped eyes on each other in the flesh he’d broken out in a run to crush you in a hug. Harry had groaned at the sight of the pair of you, smiling widely at each other, seeming to slot together perfectly. He had to laugh about it now though, if things went well with Ginny he supposed you’d probably end up being his sister-in-law, assuming his predictions of George falling completely in love with you were correct (they were, he knew).

All air of laughter or wizard/muggle romances was gone at the moment however. You and Harry sat alongside each other, your hand holding his loosely between the swings you were sat on, he’d be going into his 5th year at Hogwarts soon, he’d yet to recover from the last. He’d made a friend only for that friend to be killed right in front of him. He’d almost been murdered himself for God’s sake.

“If you don’t feel safe, Haz… maybe, I don’t know? Don’t go back?” You suggested weakly, knowing he’d never do such a thing. As you expected, Harry shook his head and looked at you solemnly.

“Can’t. Not now that he’s back.” With a sigh you squeezed his hand.

“They should be paying you for this, you know,” Harry chuckled then, squeezing your hand in return.

“I’m doing this for you too. To keep you safe.” He admitted and you sighed miserably.

“I wish I could be of more help.” Harry scoffed, his green eyes shining with pure disbelief as he stared at you.

“More help? (Y/n) you must be joking…” he trailed off as you shook your head, you weren’t joking, you hated that you couldn’t help Harry through this, for once you knew there was nothing you could do to improve the situation in any way that would make an impact, “Oi. Look at me,” Harry demanded, no trace of the usual awkward sarcasm to be heard when he spoke.

You let your eyes meet his again and watched how they seemed to soften when he took in how utterly defenceless you looked, “If it hadn’t been for you, the first ten years of my life would’ve been an even worse hell than they already were. You were the only good thing and you’re still the only good thing about being back in this place.”

He watched sadly as your eyes fell to the floor again, “Besides, the sooner we get this mess with Voldemort sorted out, the sooner you and George Weasley can navigate the whole muggle/wizard romance thing.”

At his statement you barked out a laugh and Harry let himself smile too, “Shut up, Potter. S’not like that.”

Harry laughed then too, “Oh it is so like that, (N/n).”

“It so isn’t.” You grumbled, but your little smile confirmed to Harry that it absolutely was like that.

“Okay. Fine, please then do tell, what is going on between you and the infamous George Weasley?” Harry challenged, revelling in the way your cheeks burned with embarrassment. He let out a low chuckle when you shrugged shyly and kicked the stones beneath your feet.

“I don’t know… We write to each other a lot, and I think he’s really interesting and funny and sweet and of course I think he’s fit. But, I don’t know,” you bit your lip as Harry listened to you, he found it quite endearing. “I just don’t see how it would work. I like him, yeah, but…” Harry scoffed again as you trailed off. He hated seeing you feeling so insecure, Harry was clueless about a lot of things, but he knew exactly how much his best friend was worth- more than all the gold in Gringott’s.

“Ok as your best mate, and as someone who is very close with the Weasley family, I’m telling you that he’s mad about you. All he ever does is ask me about you, Fred is completely sick of him. He’s even told Molly about you, which is truly a commitment believe me,” Harry started, growing more content with the more bashful you became, “And didn’t he write to you just before the Yule Ball to tell you that he was going with Katie Bell as a friend but he wanted to tell you just incase you heard it from someone else and he didn’t want you to get the wrong idea?” Finally, you were back to fighting a smile.

“Yeah he did.”

“Well there you go. But seriously he hasn’t dated or even so much as looked at anyone else since he met you. Which I’ll be honest is super annoying for me but you deserve someone who thinks you hung the stars in the sky.”

A mock gasp left your lips and you released his hand to place it over your chest in faux hurt, “You mean to tell me you don’t think I hung the stars in the sky? I’m hurt, Harry. I think I’ll have to rat you out to Mrs. Weasley.”

Harry laughed but the lighthearted atmosphere didn’t last long before Dudley had shown up with his little gang of bullies, all of whom made fun of Harry’s nightmares.

It was then things had taken a turn for the worst, the sky turned black and storm clouds completely blocked out the previously scorching sun. You looked to Harry for answers but he seemed to be seeing something that you couldn’t, all you knew was that it had become unbearably cold, a feeling of misery making a home in your bones as Harry rushed to pull you to your feet.

“Run! Come on!” He shouted, clutching your hand tightly in his and sprinting through the neighbourhood until you, Harry and Dudley found yourselves struggling to catch a breath in a graffiti covered tunnel.

A terrified yelp left your throat as what you’d been running from revealed itself to you.

Several floating, cloaked shadowy figures swooped into the tunnel on both sides, their hands decaying and boney, their presence leaving you with the feeling that you’d never know positively ever again.

Harry had effectively used his body to cage you against the wall of the tunnel, his back pressed firmly against your chest, your own back pressed to the cold concrete wall, his wand was at the ready as the creatures approached rapidly.

“Don’t look at them.” Harry instructed, protecting you first as you watched in horror as one of the creatures seemed to be ripping Dudley’s essence straight out of his body.

It only took Harry a few painfully long seconds to take care of the creature in front of the pair of you, you’d wished you’d taken his advice and buried your head in his shoulder so you wouldn’t see the monstrous creatures before you, yet, you couldn’t seem to tear your eyes away from Dudley.

The rest happened in a blur, Harry had yet to let go of your hand as it (and your entire body) shook violently. Demontors broke even the strongest of wizards, Harry knew that as a muggle who’d never seen a magical creature, other than an owl, you’d react negatively.

“If it makes you feel any better, I used to faint every time I saw a dementor.” You nodded numbly, giving Dudley a side glance of concern while he mumbled incoherently to himself.

“Is he alright?” You questioned meekly, voice shaking. You were still freezing and the all too familiar feeling of uselessness didn’t do anything to help you regain your inner warmth.

Harry nodded, “He will be.”

“The ministry will be after my head for using magic outside of school,” he told you after a few minutes, squeezing your hand lightly for the umpteenth time, “So I’m gonna have to go away for a while. Probably tonight. Eat some chocolate, it should stop the shaking.” He told you, you hadn’t even noticed you’d reached Privet Drive.

“And they won’t-“ your breath got caught in your throat and your eyes filled with fear, “The dementors. They won’t come back, will they?”

Harry shook his head, “No. But come on, we should get you inside before the ministry shows up and tries to obliviate you.” His final words came out as more of a mumble than an actual sentence as he passed a bumbling Dudley over to Petunia and Vernon before steering you down your own driveway.

“You better not have broken her too, boy!” You vaguely registered Vernon’s voice shouting in your and Harry’s direction.

Your parents were away on holiday at the moment, in Spain. They’d wanted you to come but you hadn’t wanted to miss Harry’s visit, so when you shakily managed to open the door the house was completely dark, you weren’t sure at what point night had fallen.

Harry closed the door behind himself and made his way into your kitchen, the boy rifled through your sweet press before his hand finally settled on what he was looking for. A triumphant sort of yell left his lips as he pulled a bar of chocolate out of the cupboard.

While Harry tossed the bar onto the counter and busied himself with boiling the kettle, you stood in the hallway still, completely rigid.

“Come on, (Y/n). Sit down.” He urged gently, not turning around. Wordlessly, you fully entered the kitchen and slid into a chair facing Harry.

“Don’t you have better things to be doing than making me tea?” You wondered, setting your hands on the table and fidgeting with your icy fingers. Obviously, you appreciated Harry’s fussing but with the way he was talking about the ministry earlier you were sure he had more important things to worry about.

Harry only faced you once he was finished making your tea. He carried the hot cup and the previously discarded bar of chocolate over to you, he placed them both on the table before giving you a hard look, “I’m looking after you first. I’ll deal with everything else later.”

“I used to be the one who took care of you.” You said through a sigh, taking a sip of the hot tea and slumping against your seat as you began to heat up on the inside again.

Harry let out a low chuckle, “Oh how the tables have turned.”

“I liked it better the other way.” You complained, munching on a square of chocolate.

“Trust me, so did I,” Harry groaned, standing up and placing a comforting hand on your shoulder, “Don’t worry though, (N/n). Have a sneaking feeling that you’ll be looking after me again soon enough.”

You patted the hand he had clamped on your shoulder in appreciation, “Thank you, though, for looking after me.”

“Course. I better go. I don’t want you getting roped into anything else tonight,” he said with a sad smile and you nodded in understanding, “We probably won’t see each other for a while but I’ll write. Is Astra back from Cecilia's yet?” Celillia is the witch you’d gotten Astra from in the first place, the pair of you had kept in touch and she’d recently offered to try and teach you some basic divination skills, she claimed that, “Being a wizard isn’t exactly a requirement” and you desperately needed something, anything, to make you feel more connected to your friends in the wizarding world. You supposed you’d need to plan a trip to her cottage soon, after tonight you definitely needed some of her wisdom.

“No, not yet. She flew straight there from the burrow so I suppose she’s probably resting,” you informed him distantly, still clutching his hand, “You’ll be careful, won’t you?”

Harry squeezed your shoulder and let out a deep breath, “I’ll try my best. Promise,” with that he lifted his hand from your shoulder and extended his pinky to you, you gladly linked it with your own. Harry noted, very gratefully, that the warmth had now returned to your hands and you’d stopped shaking so violently.

“Send me a letter once Astra gets back, alright? I’ll keep you updated on what’s going on over on my side.” You agreed before walking Harry to the door, hugging him tightly and watching as he approached the Dursley’s front door.

As predicted, Harry, George, Hermione and Cecillia had let you know that the wizarding world was crumbling fast. Admittedly you were worried about your wizard friends, but Cecillia had done a great job of keeping you distracted by keeping you buried under heaps of divination books, tarot cards and crystal guidebooks. As it turns out, though, you had quite the talent for making accurate detailed predictions.

“If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you were descended from a powerful seer,” she’d written to you in awe after you’d managed to predict exactly how a date of hers would go without missing a single detail.

Reading tarot cards quickly became one of your favourite hobbies to indulge in when you weren’t in school. You’d made the mistake of telling George about it in a recent letter, Harry already knew and he also knew that there was no point telling you that he didn’t have a heap of faith in divination. George however was having a field day with the new information.

The older boy teased you at every chance he got, but it was all in good fun as in every letter he sent, you’d find a page that he’d ripped out of his own divination book, the pages would be crinkled and have messy notes scribbled along the margins, with explanations over words that he knew you wouldn’t understand as a muggle. They were actually really helpful. Aside from all the teasing he found it quite endearing that you were trying to get familiar with some form of magic. Even if it was a form of magic wizards tended to ridicule.

He’d been quite worried about you, Harry told him about the dementors and how you’d been quite shaken up after your encounter with them. He’d written to you on a weekly basis, constantly checking in on you, making absolutely sure that no more dementors paid you a visit. He and Harry both kept you up to date with the constant and seemingly never ending rules being imposed upon them by their new headmaster, or headmistress; Delores Umbridge. George also disclosed to you all about his and Fred’s plan to leave Hogwarts and pursue their lifelong dream of opening a joke shop. You had nothing but faith in the twins, really. Your complete faith in them hadn’t stopped you from sending George a handful of crystals that you believed would help his and his shop’s success. He’d teased you relentlessly in each letter since he’d received your package containing citrine, tiger’s eye, amazonite, aventurine and smokey quartz. What he hadn’t mentioned since receiving your little gifts, is that he’d been carrying the five crystals around in their little orange mesh drawstring bag in his pocket everywhere he went. He had to give credit where credit is due and, to be fair to you and your holistic ways, he hadn’t run into any serious obstacles since he started carrying the gems around.

November through June had brought forth a plethora of unfortunate events. You were practically swimming in school work which left you with no time to write to Harry, or even practice tarot. As well as that, you’d been having nightmares, although Cecillia had warned that these dreams could hold some sort of prophesies within them, you highly doubted that though, you weren’t a wizard, only a muggle. Whether prophetic or not, the nightmares plagued you, keeping you up at night or waking you at all hours of the morning.

On one particular morning, you’d awoken with a gasp. Sweat coated your face, soaked your pillow cases and caused your legs to stick to your blankets in a way not even the June heat could've caused. Your heart pounded against your ribcage, tears welled in your eyes, and your body shook as violently as it had the night you’d come face to face with the dementors of Azkaban. The unadulterated fear coursing through your bloodstream suggested that perhaps this bad dream had been something more than simply that.

As fast as you could manage in your panicked state, you dragged your body out of bed and stumbled towards your light switch, flicking it on before haphazardly ripping a sheet out of the refill pad on your desk, grabbing a pen and beginning to scribble down the dream that you could only describe as a warning.

Your laboured breaths stirred Astra from her slumber, the tawny hooted tiredly, hopping out of her cage and fluttering over to your shoulder, settling there as you wrote.

Harry,

I hope this letter reaches you in time. I might sound completely mad but something terrible may be about to happen. I’ve been having these horrific dreams over the last few months, I didn’t tell you because I didn’t want you to worry but Cecillia suspects they’re premonitions and I’m terrified she may be right. I’ve just woken up, it’s around 2am and if I’m lucky, Astra should get this letter to you before 6am…

Onto the dream, you were there and you were asleep, I was standing by your bed, it was a four-poster sort of thing, the room was decorated in mostly red and gold. You woke up panicked, you looked completely overwhelmed and you began shouting about your Godfather Sirius, about how he was in trouble… From then on I watched the day play out. You, Hermoine, Ron, Ginny, a boy with brown hair I’ve never met, I think you called him Neville in my dream, and a blonde girl- Luna I think you called her, you all went to the ministry to rescue Sirius and find some kind of prophecy. Harry you have to listen to me, you mustn’t go, it’s a trick, Voldemort planted it in your head and if you go you’ll only put Sirius in harm’s way. But, knowing you, you’re gonna go anyway… so here’s my advice: keep your eyes open for the witch Bellatrix. Keep Sirius away from the veil and please please please, be careful.

I’m heading to Cecillia’s cottage for the day and maybe even the next couple of days, send Astra there when you find time to write back.

I hope I’m wrong but if I’m not; good luck, Harry. I love you and if you don’t look after yourself the dark lord will be the least of your worries.

Lots of love,

Y/n.

Folding up the letter and placing it in a stray envelope, you addressed it and gently tied it to your loyal owl’s leg. “I’m gonna need you to go as fast as you can to get this to Harry, okay Astra?” She hooted with what you guessed to be determination before she set off, out into the night. Thankfully for you, now that your owl was occupied, you knew Cecillia owned a telephone so you’d have no problems contacting her. While writing to Harry, you’d left out a few details about the dream. You conveniently forget to mention that you’d watched his only remaining family member killed at the hand’s of Bellatrix, it had looked so terrifyingly real that your mind couldn’t have possibly conjured it up all by itself. You also failed to mention hearing Harry’s agonising scream as Sirius fell, the noise was nearly deafening. Seeing Sirius, a man you’d only seen in pictures, die and watching your best friend mourn for him was, well, traumatising. There was no way you’d get a wink of sleep for the remainder of the night, so, you quietly tiptoed downstairs and made a call.

The line rang three times before Cecillia’s voice sounded, chirpy as ever despite the late hour, “Hello?”

“Sorry to call so late,” was all you managed, your voice although shaky was immediately identified by the much older witch.

You could nearly see the soft smile on her youthful face as she spoke, “Ah, Y/n my darling, no worries at all! How is my favourite student doing at half two in the morning?”

“Not well, I’ve had another vision. I think you might’ve been right about the dreams being prophetic,” you told her, willing your voice not to crack as the image of your bad dreams crept into your mind once again.

Cecillia let out a gentle hum, “Shall I apparate over? You don’t sound in the highest of spirits, darling.”

“Yes please,” you answered simply and within seconds Cecillia was standing before you, a worried furrow in her brow and her ashy brown hair disheveled from apparating to you in such a hurry. How could she not? You were, after all, her protégé.

“Oh, darling. You look terribly shaken up, come, come, let’s get you some water,” she fretted, guiding you to your kitchen, magically flicking on the light with her wand and filling up a glass of water, with a few flicks of her wrist the glass had floated over to your usual seat at the table, meanwhile Cecillia had stirred you into the wooden chair adjacent the glass.

Wordlessly, the witch peeled your damp hair away from your face and secured it back with a crocodile clip shaped like a huge golden bumble bee, it’s wings adorned with glittering gems. The bee sat comfortably in your hair as Cecillia finally sat down beside you, she made herself comfortable on the kitchen chair, crossing one leg over the other, resting her elbow on the table and using it to prop her cheek up. Her wide green eyes stared at you sympathetically, watching intently as you sipped your water.

“I’m assuming your loyal familiar is sleeping soundly?” She wondered, referring to Astra. You shook your head, simultaneously swallowing a gulp of water before responding verbally.

“I sent her with a letter to Harry, it was more of a warning really,” Cecillia nodded her head, signalling you to go on, “I dreamt of Harry and his friends going to the Ministry of Magic to rescue Sirius Black, but it was a trap. When they got there they were ambushed by dark wizards and Sirius well he…” you trailed off, eyes growing distant and unfocused when the sight of the man being murdered reentered your mind’s eye. A gentle hand on your shoulder pulled you back to the present.

“This one was far worse than the others then?”

You nodded, “It didn’t feel like a dream, cecillia. It was like I was actually standing there but I couldn’t do anything to help though… as per usual,” you muttered bitterly, receiving a harsh squeeze to your shoulder in response.

Cecillia fixed you with a maternal glare, “None of that! You potentially saved a life tonight. And, as I effortlessly predicted since the moment I met you, you’ve got the magical gift of sight,” her hard look melted into something more forgiving as she spoke, “You’re much more than just a muggle. You may have been an extremely late bloomer, but, you’re a witch and a seer at that. A peculiar case indeed, although in the wizarding world stranger things have happened,” the old witch told you proudly, eyes shining with glee as your own filled with confusion.

“How do we know the dream will even come true?” You questioned.

Cecillia simply shrugged and offered you a cheeky grin, “I trust your feelings, darling.”

True to your initial feeling, you hadn’t gotten a wink of sleep, you knew you wouldn’t be able to rest until you found out whether or not your dream had come to fruition. Cecillia remained by your side throughout the night, eventually the sun had risen and your parents descended down the stairs, neither of them were surprised to see Cecillia sitting at the kitchen table. They saw her as an odd woman, very kind and perfectly lovely, but odd. You’d told them that she owned an animal sanctuary and that you’d been volunteering with her, it wasn’t too far fetched really, she had given you an owl after all, not to mention the amount of cats that hung around her cottage.

She explained to your parents that she needed your help at ‘the sanctuary’ for the next few days and that she’d drop you home once the work was finished. It hadn’t been a problem, so you traveled to Cecillia’s cottage after getting dressed and packing an overnight bag (full to the brim with tarot decks and only some clothes).

It was nearly 8 in the evening when Cecillia sauntered into her living room, where you were sitting, sporting a knowing grin, she held a piece of parchment in one hand and an unopened envelope in the other.

Jovially, she plopped herself down beside you, obviously doing her very best to contain a huge grin from forming on her face. Wordlessly, she placed the envelope on your lap with a mere, “For you.”

On the envelope you could tell by the handwriting that it had come from Harry. This was definitely a make or break moment for you. The contents of this letter would either confirm that you did in fact have magic, or, they would be responsible for causing you to experience a seismic amount of embarrassment. Swallowing the lump in your throat you tore the envelope open, freeing the letter and daring to read what was inside.

Dear Y/n,

Your dream was right. And that advice you gave about keeping an eye on Sirius? It saved his life. I suppose I’m mostly writing to say thank you. I’ve got some updates for you too: firstly, it’s finally been confirmed that Voldemort is back so my name is cleared. Secondly, it turns out that Remus and Cecillia are old friends, she contacted him earlier today about your vision and he and Sirius haven’t shut up about how impressive it is. I have a feeling you might be hearing from them soon, The Order now more than ever is in need of a secret weapon and genuine seers are hard to come by. I hate to involve you in this, it’ll probably be dangerous and you know I don’t want to see you hurt, or worse. But having said that, I’m glad we’re in this together now.

Astra got here in good time, by the way, she landed on my window just after I woke up from my vision of Sirius, it was actually quite freaky. I’m taking good care of her so don’t worry, she should be back to you at some point tomorrow.

Hermoine and Ron say hi too. I’m sure you’ll be hearing from George soon, seeing as he and Fred are in the Order… On that note I better get going.

Thank you again for the warning.

See you soon,

Love, Harry.

A bemused smile spread across your lips as you scanned the page, thankful to have finally made a significant difference in Harry���s life. Cecillia was grinning like a cheshire cat beside you, pride shimmering in her emerald eyes. She bumped her arm against yours playfully when you let the letter fall to your lap, “An old friend of mine will be stopping by in a short while. It seems he’d like to get you trained up in some defence against the dark arts.” She told you, still grinning.

“Defence against the dark arts?” You wondered out loud, you were sure you’d heard Harry mention those words to you before, however, the memories were fuzzy.

“Magic to keep you safe from darker magic, the likes of which the Dark Lord and his Death Eaters rely,” she explained darkly. Just then, a loud bang erupted from her open stone fireplace, a bubble of green dissipated as two men stepped less than gracefully onto Cecillia’s faux-fur rug. You recognised them both from your vision. They were Sirius Black and, if you were to take an educated guess, Remus Lupin.

Cecillia wasted no time before she was giddily jumping from her seat to greet the pair who had just appeared in her sitting room.

“Remus! Oh, how wonderful to see you!” She all but squealed, pulling the tall man into a hug and ruffling his already messy hair.

He reciprocated the hug with a gentle chuckle, “It’s nice to see you again, Cece. It’s been far too long,” he pulled away and the pair of them shared a fond smile before simultaneously looking to Sirius. “I trust you remember Sirius?” Lupin asked, almost rhetorically.

Sirius let out a booming laugh at that, “She could never forget me, now could you, Cece?” Cecillia rolled her eyes, and with a look of endearment nearly tackled Sirius into an embrace.

Seeing the woman who was essentially your magical mentor so overjoyed was lovely, Cecillia was jolly at the best of times but you’d never seen her quite like this. Her happiness added to your sense of helpfulness, Sirius Black was obviously important to more than just Harry, if the smile on the free-spirited witches face was anything to go by. Although you were ecstatic for the three witches and wizards before you, you couldn’t help but feel like you were imposing on an intimate reunion.

Awkwardly you cleared your throat, successfully bringing the trio’s attention onto you as you stood by the sofa, smiling unsurely. If it was even possible, all three of their smiles broadened when their gazes landed on you.

“Am I right in assuming that this is my guardian angel?” Sirius asked, separating from Cecillia.

Cecillia nodded, filled with pride, “And isn’t she just the loveliest guardian angel you’ve ever seen?” She gushed, half seriously.

You offered Sirius a bashful smile, along with a nod of greeting, “I’m glad to see you’re alright,” you told him.

His grin stayed fixed in place but he raised a single eyebrow in confusion, “Glad? And yet you’ve never met me before now…” his tone was laced with inquisition, as if he wanted to figure out what ulterior motive you could possibly have for caring about a stranger you’d only ever seen in a dream.

It didn’t take a seer or a psychic to see what Sirius was after, so you simply answered him truthfully, “No, we’ve never met, but you’re still a person, I watched that woman kill you, it was horrible, nobody deserves that. As well as that; I know how much you mean to Harry and what sort of best friend would I be if I didn’t try to help him keep his last family member safe?” Sirius nodded approvingly at your reply, looking between Remus and Cecillia.

“She remind you of anyone?” The black haired man asked in a low chuckle, Remus snickered and Cecillia bit back a grin.

The witch made her way back to your side and wrapped an arm around your shoulder, jostling you ever so slightly when she noticed your vaguely worried expression, “Don’t worry, darling, you just remind us of one of our most treasured school friends, I promise I will tell you all about it later. But for now, I believe Sirius was about to thank you for saving his life?” She prompted, waiting expectantly.

Sirius cleared his throat and straightened his posture before outstretching his arm, offering you his hand which you took firmly in your own. His voice was steady, strong and genuine when he spoke, “I am truly thankful for what you did for not only me but Harry today. I’m extremely proud of my godson for aligning himself with such a strong, powerful and wonderfully loyal young lady.”

“How sweet,” Cecillia cooed, before guiding you to the kitchen, “Come now, boys, kettles on- we have a lot to discuss!” She called over her shoulder.

There certainly had been a lot to discuss. The Order of the Phoenix thought having a seer at their disposal would be extremely beneficial in the upcoming war, the issue was; you are not yet of age and some members of the group didn’t wish to involve a child in their battle. Sirius, Remus and Cecillia made it abundantly clear that if you desired to join the Order, you were more than welcome but you would be welcomed under certain conditions. Those conditions being that your membership be kept under wraps and not disclosed to any muggles, meaning your parents.

“To keep them safe and to give you an escape route if things get too messy, even with the level of magic you’ll have gained by the time the war is in full swing, as a muggle born you’ll most likely need to flee quickly,” Remus explained, though it didn’t make much sense.

“Wouldn’t it be easier to run if my parents knew what we were running from? They’re open minded people, I’m sure they’d understand,” you attempted to reason, the trio but exchanged yet another loaded look with each other.

Cecillia placed a gentle hand on your shoulder, “We have a contingency plan in place, darling. Nothing you need to worry about for right now,” she reassured, easing your nerves a tad. “You trust me don’t you?” She followed up, her tone slightly stonier, more serious. You nodded your head certainly in response, there was no doubt about it; you trusted the witch with your life. “Then,” she began again, a somewhat chastising look on her face, “Trust that I will not allow a single hair on your head to be harmed.” This rule also extended to wizards not in the Order, which meant that when in the magical world, you were to air on the side of extreme caution.

Relating to that, another condition was that, at all times in the magical world, you were to be accompanied by an of age member of the Order. According to Sirius, who your were growing to like more by the second, he was going to arrange for a member of the Order to bring you to Diagon Alley in the morning to get you a wand. The prospect of having a wand of your own was terribly exciting, once again though, you found yourself wondering if you had it in you to properly wield one, or wield one at all for that matter. You were too exhausted to fret for too long, so the thoughts about magic levels and your own capabilities were only fleeting. Once all of the serious chat dissipated into friendly chatter, you managed to slip away from the table at which you were all sat. Making your way back to the sitting room, you tucked yourself into the corner seat of Cecillia’s old and very comfortable sofa, pulled your knees against your chest, wrapped your arms around them and rested your cheek against your knee. Slowly and deeply, you began to breathe in and out, fiddling with the amazonite bracelet that adorned your wrist in order to quell your ever growing anxiety. For a few sweet minutes you indulged in the calm silence, meditating peacefully in your comfy seat until a soft knock sounded from the doorway. When your eyes fluttered open they were met with the image of Sirius Black, leaning casually against the frame of the door, a hand plunged deep into his trouser pocket and another flipping a stray tarot card between his fingers. His eyes were focused on yours as he spoke, “I hope I’m not interrupting.”

You shook your head and patted the seat beside you, “‘Course not, come sit.”

The man chuckled but obliged, settling in the spot beside you and offering you the card he’d previously been fiddling with.

“The ten of swords,” you identified easily, “I assume you’ve been feeling quite overwhelmed if this card found its way to you.”

Sirius hummed, “CeCe tells me that you’ve a penchant for card reading. I was rubbish at divination back at Hogwarts, only took it because I thought it’d be easy but I could never get my head around it,” he reminisced, an airy laugh slipping from his lips.

“If you don’t mind me asking, who were you all talking about earlier when you asked if I reminded Cecilia and Remus of anyone?” He let out a deep sigh before fixing you with a soft smile.

“An old school friend of ours, she was more than a friend to me, but that’s a story for another time,” he started, staring out into the empty space before him a melancholy grin on his lips, “She was fiercely loyal to her friends, if she wanted to help there was absolutely nothing that would stop her from doing so. I know I don’t know you very well, but from what I heard today and the way in which you’ve been described to me by Harry; I can see her in you,” he finished, bumping his shoulder with yours and forcing a happy smile onto your lips which mirrored Sirius’.

“What’s her name?” You asked.

“Her name was Marlene,” Sirius answered.

Your heart dropped with his use of past tense, “Was?”

Sirius bowed his head slightly and began to twist the rings that adorned his slender fingers, “She was killed during the first war,” he told you, making eye contact once again, a grave expression on his face as he continued, “I saw your apprehension earlier when we brought up the topic of secrecy, but you must understand that during the first war we lost so many who were dear to us, keeping you in our back pocket will ensure that you aren’t harmed in the face of this war, if any dark wizards hear so much of a whisper of a muggleborn seer they will stop at nothing to eliminate you,” he paused for a brief second, never breaking eye contact, the gravity of the situation heavy on your chest your fingers absentmindedly found your amazonite bracelet once again. Your movements were halted when Sirius placed his large hand over yours, squeezing it warmly while staring at you determinedly, “You saved my life today, Y/n. So believe me when I tell you that I will stop at nothing to keep you safe,” he promised and you squeezed his hand in return.

“I know,” he smiled as he watched your eyes return to the ten of swords and your grin broadened with the sort of mischief he’d only ever seen in four people; James Potter, Marlene McKinnon and Fred and George Weasley. “I have a prediction for you.”

Sirius entertained you fondly, a mischievous air that reminded him of when he was your age surrounding the pair of you, “By all means, do tell.”

“I predict,” you paused for emphasis, “that we are going to be very good friends.”

Sirius let out a booming laugh of which the volume he couldn’t control, “That is a prediction I truly hope will come to fruition.”

“Oh no, this is a duo that spells trouble,” Cecillia giggled to Remus as they entered the sitting room.

Remus looked between you and Sirius with a grin, “With a mentor like you, Cece, I’m not surprised Y/n has a taste for mischief,” the ruffled wizard teased, receiving a gentle elbow to the ribs from your mentor.

“Oi, if you’re going to blame my beloved girl’s mischief on anyone you better blame it on a certain Weasley twin,” she said, wiggling her eyebrows and causing the boys to smile giddily like teenagers.

Sirius bumped your shoulder again, this time with a faux-scandalised smile, “A Weasley twin, eh? Come on then, which one?” You blushed heavily and cleared your throat in an attempt to alleviate the embarrassment filling your being.

“He’s just a friend!”

“Mhm. A friend that sends her annotated pages from his divination text book,” Cecillia sang and Sirius snickered.

“Whichever one it is must be quite taken with you if you made him actually crack open a textbook.”

“Annotations are quite intimate,” Remus half teased although you could see he believed what he’d just said, “I bet it’s George,” he directed the bet at Sirius who carefully observed the way you bit your lip and bashfully looked towards the wooden floor.

“I think you’re right, moony. Now!” He stood suddenly and pointed a finger at Remus expectantly, “We best get going and arrange Y/n’s accomplice for tomorrow’s field trip,” he wiggled his eyebrows before turning his head to face you again, he shot you a wink and you couldn’t stop the airy laugh that left your mouth at his lighthearted antics.

Remus gave Cecillia a one armed hug, “we’ll be seeing you both tomorrow then, it was lovely to meet you, Y/n, perhaps next time Sirius will allow me to get a word in,” he chuckled and Sirius responded by throwing his arm around your shoulder.

“I better get off, this husband of mine is growing jealous,” he told you in a teasingly hushed whisper.

Your eyes widened and you looked between the two men, “You two are married?”

A love struck smile took over both of their faces which immediately gave you your answer. “We’re engaged,” Sirius clarified before pulling you into a proper hug, “Get a good night's sleep, we’ll be sending an order member to collect you early tomorrow morning so you can be in and out of Olivander’s before a crowd can build,” he told you while giving you an affectionate squeeze, you could’ve laughed when you realised that it felt like you’d known Sirius forever but you also could’ve cried when you relived the image of him losing his life and realised that just because it was over and prevented didn't mean it hadn’t still transpired in your mind’s eye, you didn’t let that show on your face though.

“I’ll make sure I’m well rested,” you promised.

With that, Sirius bid Cecillia goodbye, and he and Remus left the way they’d came.

The rest of the night had been spent with Cecillia telling you story after story about her school days and the trouble she’d caused with Sirius, Remus, James and Lily Potter, Harry’s parents, and another boy who she only referred to as “the rat”. Though the tone of the stories were completely lighthearted, they weighed on your chest with a sense of such tragedy. A huge majority of their friends were killed young because of the war, a war that was now waging once again. It led you to wonder who’d be lost to this one, if perhaps you’d be on the list of names that Harry or Cecillia or George would speak about fondly with a dense undertone of sorrow in the years after the second war had long since been won. It was a risk you were willing to take though, the notion of fighting for a deserving cause filled you with a sense of purpose, a purpose you’d been searching for for years. More than that, you felt important. You were needed. An asset. You would actually be of some help.

True to your word, you’d been getting a good night’s rest. The bed in Cecillia’s spare room was the comfiest thing you’d ever come across, though, as you began to stir from your deep slumber you couldn’t recall the empty side of the double bed being quite so dipped.

Slowly and begrudgingly, you cracked your eyes open to see Cecillia smiling tiredly at you in the light of dawn, “Morning, darling. Sorry about the early start, I’ve made you some tea,” she greeted quietly so as to not disturb the peace of the early morning. She held two ceramic mugs, one in each hand and passed you the steaming cup that was hand painted green, keeping the brown one for herself. Tiredly, you patted the spot beside you and pulled the quilt to the side, inviting the witch into the warm bed. She happily slid in, pulling the quilt over her and chuckling quietly when you dropped your head onto her robed shoulder and began to sip the tea she’d made. Cecillia rested her head against yours and sipped on her own tea.

“Are you excited for today?” She asked and you hummed.

“I’m having mixed emotions,” you stated, “I’m excited to see everything, but I’m sort of nervous that I won’t have enough magic to even get a wand,” Comfort spread through your chest when Cecillia pressed her lips to the crown of your head.

“The wonderful thing about wands, lovely, is that the wand picks the wizard,” she began, “so whatever wand you end up with will accentuate the level of magic inside you. Its power will grow as yours does and you’ll soon come to realise that you couldn’t imagine wielding anything else,” her voice was wistful and her eyes shined with wonder as she recalled how it felt to bond to a wand.

“What do you think mine will be like?” You wondered, excitement awakening in you thanks to Cecillia’s encouraging words.

The witch took an exaggerated slurp of her tea before answering, “Something curious,” was all she said.

“Insightful,” you murmured and she shrugged unapologetically, her chaotic energy exuding now that she’d started to wake up fully. “What time is it anyway?”

“Half six, your chaperone should be arriving at seven and Olivander’s opens at eight,” she told you before shimmying out of bed, you whined in the absence of your head rest. “You better get dressed. Wear something nice, rumour has it that your tag along is quite the eligible bachelor,” she wiggled her eyebrows and all but floated out of the spare room. It was practically your room by now though, over the years since you’d gotten Astra and met Cecillia you’d stayed in the room on countless occasions. Cecillia embodied something that was something between a second mother, a spiritual mentor, a teasing older sister and a slightly kooky aunt.

“Oh? So do you reckon I should brush my hair then?” You jokingly called out after her only to receive a harsh scoff.

“Absolutely not! Don’t be desperate!” You barked out a laugh at her response, shaking your head and getting ready for the day ahead.

You were just about finished getting ready when a familiar bang sounded from the sitting room. Taking a deep breath, you gave yourself one last look over in the mirror, happy with the outfit you’d chosen, you made your way towards the sitting room to come face to face with your surprise chaperone for the day.

When you shuffled into the sitting room, a smile immediately stretched across your lips upon seeing who had been appointed to stick by your side for the day, “George!” His name left your mouth in a squeal that would’ve been embarrassing had you not been so excited to see him. It’d been upwards of a year since the last time you’d seen George in the flesh and although you’d seen each other in photos and written to each other at a rate that was almost excessive, the prospect of spending time together in person was, for lack of a better word; magical.

George drew his attention away from the framed pictures that lined Cecillia’s fireplace to see you standing in the doorway, looking as bright as the newly risen sun and sporting a smile that he couldn’t quite put into words how it made him feel. It only took a second before his own cheek splitting smile grew on his face, and with it left his hopes of impressing you with his cool and collected attitude. You hadn’t given him too much time to dwell on his ruined cool guy facade as you all but threw yourself into his arms. The red head let out an endearing laugh, catching you in his toned arms, wrapping them tightly around your torso. A scarlet blush rising on his ears when he felt your smile against his neck. “Hello to you too,” he chuckled against your ear and you pulled back enough to look at him, your arms still secure around his shoulders.

“Sorry,” you started, the smile that still adorned your lips telling him that you weren’t all that sorry at all, “Hi,” you greeted, bashfully pulling your arms away from him.

The sitting room was quiet for a moment as the pair of you only stared at each other, would it be too much to tell him that you’ve missed him? You didn’t want to come on too strong after such a long time apart, you’d already tackled him into a hug within the first five seconds, but with that came your next internal question of; did you really want to keep this boy on his toes?

George, having already discarded his notion of acting nonchalant with you, bet you to the punch. He rubbed the back of his neck and flicked his gaze to the floor before bringing it back to you, “I’ve missed you.”

A giggle left your lips before you could think about choking it down, you nodded your head, bouncing slightly on the balls of your feet, “Yeah, I’ve missed you too. Sorry I haven’t written, Astra is still with Harry.”

George gave you a grin, “No worries, darling. Heard you’ve been a very busy little psychic lately.”

Darling, you mused internally, the nickname echoing through your head and causing your heart to somersault in a way you’d never really felt before.

“Oh how sweet,” Cecillia sang from the doorway, a wicked grin on her face as she took in the two hopeless blushing messes, staring doe-eyed at each other in the middle of her living room. “I hate to break up the reunion, my dears, but the pair of you really should get going,” she instructed, strutting up to you and holding a cloth pouch in your direction, “Sirius left you some spending money, it’s different than the money you usually use but I’m sure George will have no problem helping you out,” Cecillia shot the boy a wink and he nodded, once again growing bashful.

“Now,” she grew serious, directing her words at George and making him slightly intimidated with her strong eye contact, “You are to be extremely careful. You are not to mention that Y/n is a seer and you are not to draw any attention to the fact that she is a muggleborn, if Mr. Olivander asks, she’s a half-blood who's been living in the states and that’s why she doesn’t have a wand,” you wore a confused expression, George nodded in complete understanding, “Did Sirius give you the list?”

George nodded once again, pulling a folded piece of parchment out of the back pocket of his slightly baggy denim jeans, “May I take a look?” Cecillia asked, already snatching the parchment from George’s long fingers and unfolding the sheet and reading it aloud, “Alright! A wand… seriously? He used a whole page of parchment just to write one thing?” She grumbled, stomping over to the nearest side table, leaning down and began to scribble on the parchment. You looked to George as she wrote, “Why do you have to say I’m from the States?” You asked quietly and George leaned down slightly to be closer to your ear.

“Witches and wizards in America don’t get wands until they’re of age, we get them here when we’re eleven,” just as he was finished offering his explanation, Cecillia walked back over, a hard look on her face that you weren’t used to seeing, though it seemed that the look was reserved for George.

Silently she handed him the parchment before looking to you, hard look dissolving back into her usual playful expression, “Have fun, lovely.” She then turned to George again, apparently having had enough of trying to intimidate the poor boy, she shot him a smile, “You’ll be taking the floo to Diagon Alley, my fireplace is big enough to take the both of you at once,” she handed George a pouch of what looked like green powder, “George knows what to do, now, not to sound like a broken record but do stay safe and have fun,” she finished, ushering the pair of you into her fireplace. You couldn’t lie, it was quite strange, you supposed you should get used to things coming across as strange, you were about to be exposed to the magical wizarding world for the first time after all. In the fireplace, you stood shoulder to shoulder with George, noticing the nervous look on your face, he slid his hand into yours gently. When you looked at him, he kept his face focused on his feet, “Ready, Y/n?” Taking a deep breath you nodded shakily.

“Ready, George.”

At your words, George slammed the green powder onto the ground and shouted, “Diagon Alley!”

You were sure you were going to be sick. Whatever the powder was, it had you spinning at a pace you didn’t know was possible, you had screwed your eyes shut and you were almost certain that you could feel yourself physically moving. It was only when George tugged on your hand that you opened your eyes to see that your surroundings had actually changed. “It’s horrible the first time, but you get used to it,” George said, pulling you by your still intertwined hands onto the cobbled street. The dizziness died down after only a few seconds out in the fresh air, the added sensation of George’s thumb rubbing soothing circles against your hand seemed to do the trick in settling you completely as you took in the street ahead of you. It was dazzling, really. A long cobbled street, lined with shops that looked like they were plucked straight out of a fairytale. As planned, the streets were fairly empty in the early morning as George led you down the path towards the shop where you’d hopefully get your wand. The name “Olivanders” was written above both windows of the dark shop, the words “makers of fine wands since 382 B.C.” were to be seen just above the door. Excitement had completely overridden your nerves and you practically skipped towards the door, George followed casually behind you, his hands tucked into his pockets and a fond smile on his lips.

“I suppose you’re excited then?” He asked teasingly and you didn’t bother trying to hide your obvious childlike wonder as you waited for him to catch up with you.

“It probably seems silly to you, but this morning Cecillia told me all about when she got her wand and it sounded so wonderful,” you told him, smiling when he bumped his shoulder against yours.

“I don’t think it’s silly, I still get giddy thinking about the time Fred and I got wands of our own,” he pushed the door open and motioned for you to step inside, slowly you walked into the empty shop. It was dark and somewhat dingy but there was something very mystically inclining about it, you could feel the energy and it was utterly exhilarating.

“Wow,” you breathed out, spinning where you stood, gazing at the boxes upon boxes that lined the shelves.

Only a minute passed before an old man stumbled to the front of the shop, smiling at the pair of you from behind the counter, “Ah, Mr. Weasley, it’s good to see you, it’s been some time. What can I do for you this morning? I see you’ve brought a friend,” the older wizard greeted and you smiled in response.

“I’m looking for a wand. I’ve been living in the states for the past few years but I just moved home,” you lied easily, George couldn’t help but smirk, what he’d give to have had you around for some of his and Fred’s pranks at Hogwarts.

The old man nodded in understanding, his eyes scanned you, his eyes were scrutinising and you fought the urge to squirm under his gaze, “Interesting. One moment please,” he said, murmuring to himself as he searched the isles for what he was looking for. A small “aha” sounded from within the isles, he was back in front of you within seconds, an open rectangular box in his hand. It was absolutely gorgeous, it resembled a raw tree branch, wood spiralling up its expanse until it stopped at the top, cutting off in a jagged, dull edge. He must’ve noticed how your jaw dropped, how could he not? He hadn’t been able to take his eyes off you since you’d wandered into his shop. He was an old wizard, but he wasn’t naive, he was well aware you weren’t returning from America, he could sense an energy in you that he hadn’t come in contact with in a long time. “Curious, isn’t it?” He prompted you, causing you to let out an airy laugh. Cecillia was going to tease you big time when you got back to her cabin.

“It’s lovely, what is it?” He offered you the box expectantly and you hesitantly picked up the wand with as much care as you possibly could. It was cool against your skin and was heavier than you’d imagined it would be.

“Thirteen inch, oak; cut from the base of a tree, which at the time, was almost six hundred years old,” he explained, watching happily as you ran your fingers along the wands several ridges,”With a phoenix feather core, quite a rare piece indeed. Unfortunately, this particular wand has been extremely difficult to match to a witch. But something tells me that you might be just the witch for the job,” he held your gaze and you once again got the feeling that he knew something he shouldn’t, “Go on, then. Give it a wave,” he prompted and you looked to George for further encouragement. George laughed at your lost expression, pulling his own wand out and pointing it towards the now empty box on the counter, “Like this, love,” he demonstrated, moving his wrist in a semi-circle motion, making the box levitate off the counter.

Another pet name. You ignored the butterflies in your stomach in favour of clearing your throat, squaring your shoulders and pointing your wand at the same box George had just made float, which was now settled back against the counter. Imitating the boy beside you, you moved your wrist in a swift semi-circle. Suddenly, a golden light poured from the tip of the wand and warm air surrounded you, gently blowing your hair back and forcing a laugh of disbelief to leave your lips. George stood wide eyed beside you, his lips parted slightly. He was amazed really, he went through five wands before he found the one that fit him, yet you’d found yours on the first try, and he had to admit; you looked glorious doing it.

After paying for your wand, you exited the shop, looking around George’s side at the list he was holding. From what you could make out, Cecillia had added a number of items to the originally very short list; 1) a wand, 2) a pendulum (crystal of the ladies choice), 3) crystals: labradorite, lapis lazuli & azurite, 4) mugwort, 5) new tarot deck (again, whatever she wants Sirius can afford it ;)).

“Suppose our next stop is the divination shop,” George said, mostly to himself but gave you a mischievous smile, “If we hurry up and get our shopping done fast we could probably get a butterbeer in before we rejoin the rest of the Order,” he sang, grazing his hand against yours as you walked side by side.

“Beer? You seriously want to drink beer at half eight in the morning?” You asked him, your eyebrow raised and he replied with an exaggerated roll of his eyes and draped his arm around your shoulder, pulling you close against his side and once again leaning his head down so his lips were level with your eye.

“No, you git,” he began with a laugh, “It’s not really beer, it’s pretty sweet; most wizards love it.”

You hummed in acknowledgment, “Sounds nice,” you told him absently, preoccupied with all the intriguing shops that surrounded you. George’s arm remained wrapped around your shoulder as you strolled further into Diagon Alley, seemingly uninterested in his offer for a butterbeer. The pair of you got what you needed from the shop and, since it hadn’t taken long, you decided to take George up on his drinks offer. You noticed that he seemed a little bit crestfallen since your noncommittal answer earlier.

“Hey,” you said, bumping your arm against his.

“Hello,” he replied, returning the gesture.

“So… d’you wanna go get one of those beer things that you were talking about earlier?” You asked nervously, your lip between your teeth. For all you knew, asking someone to grab a butterbeer in the wizarding world was the muggle equivalent to proposing.

George flashed you a grin that was almost childlike, it was mesmerising, so sweet and pure and you almost wished you’d brought your camera to take a picture of it. “I thought you’d never ask.”

With a giggle you let him grab your hand and lead you excitedly towards a building that had “The Leaky Cauldron” written above the door. When you got inside, George led you to a small round table with two chairs and you both sat down opposite each other. As casually as you could, you rested your elbow against the table and let your cheek rest against your fist, for a solid few minutes, while George ordered, you curiously looked around the pub until your gaze finally rested on George who was already looking at you with a soft smile, “Having fun?” He asked, genuinely curious.

You nodded your head, “Mhm, are you? I’m sure getting up at the crack of dawn to take me shopping isn’t something someone like you would usually like to do for fun,” you said, becoming slightly self conscious when you realised that he probably wasn’t enjoying the morning as much as you were. This was all normal for him, you’d nearly forgotten.

George gave you a perplexed look, “Course I’m having fun, love. But, what do you mean someone like me?”

You shrugged, once again pushing down the butterflies that arose in your stomach from the pet name, “I dunno, you’re just- you’re mischievous and fun and… I don’t know, shopping for stuff with me doesn’t seem like it’s something you’d want to do. I just hope Sirius didn’t force you into it,” you admitted shyly, smiling gratefully at the waiter when he placed the mugs of golden liquid on the table.

George chewed on his bottom lip for a second before he shook his head, “He didn’t force me. I sort of, well, I sort of forced him to let me take you. He wanted Professor Lupin to do it but I…” he let out an exaggerated sigh before giving you a smile, “I wanted to spend time with you,” he confessed sweetly, watching happily as a smile formed on your lips and you tried to hide it in the rim of your butterbeer. He laughed when your face lit up once the liquid hit your lips, “Like it?”

“This stuff is amazing,” you almost shouted, taking another large sip from the drink, “No wonder you all love it so much.”

George snickered, “Just in case it wasn’t clear; I’m having a lot of fun with you,” he said all too casually, taking a sip of his drink.

“Where to now?” You wondered, after you’d finished your drinks and set off back towards the floo network.

George shot you a cheeky look and wiggled his eyebrows, “I’m taking you back to headquarters.”

“Sounds ominous,” you commented, following him into the fireplace, nervously.

“D’you want a tip?” George asked out of the blue and you looked up at him expectantly, nodding. “The dizziness isn’t as bad if you keep your eyes open,” he whispered, taking your hand once again and throwing down the same green powder from earlier and shouting a new location that you hadn’t heard before. You cringed as the world began to spin, listening to George’s advice hadn’t helped much as the transportation was just as awful as it had been the first time. Unbeknownst to you, you were squeezing George’s hand like your life depended on it, George’s thumb had resumed brushing circles around your hand in response, the harsh squeezing didn’t bother him at all, not when it was you doing the squeezing. Just like earlier, George led you out of the fireplace and into the unfamiliar sitting room. Though the room was completely unfamiliar it was full of faces you immediately recognised, one face in particular standing out above all the rest.

In a second you’d dropped not only George’s hand, but all of your shopping bags to the floor carelessly and hurled yourself towards the boy who had already begun rushing towards you the second he caught sight of you appearing in the fireplace. Your bodies collided with so much force that you nearly sent each other tumbling to the ground, laughter sounded from both of you as you swayed the other, almost roughly, the way you always did when reuniting after an extended period of time.

“Glad to see you in one piece, Harry,” you told him with a cheeky smile on your lips, opting not to call him Haz in front of all of his wizard friends lest they tease him, not to mention you’d become quite possessive of the nickname, you wouldn’t be too pleased if anyone else started adopting it. Not that you’d ever admit that out loud.

“Yeah, you too,” his smile was as wide as could be when he shook his head, “I can’t believe you’re actually here.”

“Do you want me to pinch you?” You teased, jokingly taking his cheek between your thumb and your pointer, giving the skin between them a gentle squeeze. Harry swatted your hand away with a low chuckle and unraveled his arms from around you.

“Alright, you two, if you’re ready we have some matters we need to discuss with our newest member,” Sirius’ voice sounded from behind you, a knowing look on his face as he watched Harry sneakily pinch your arm in retaliation. He had to fight the urge he felt to reminisce on his old school days; when he’d purposely annoy James, Remus or Peter and receive the exact same mockingly vengeful look that you’d just given Harry.

“I’ll bring your things to the kitchen,” George announced, reminding you of his presence before he walked rather quickly out of the room, bags clutched in his hands.

Harry snorted out a laugh when Sirius followed George out of the room, leaving the both of you alone. Harry wiggled his eyebrows and did his best to make his voice take on a sultry tone, “he’s bringing your things to the kitchen.”

“Shut your mouth, Potter,” you replied, pinching his cheek for the second time and tossing your arm around his shoulder, him doing the same as he led you to what you assumed was the kitchen.

“Do I have your permission to open my mouth to tell you something,” Harry asked lightly, stopping so you were both standing outside a closed wooden door.

“I’ll allow it,” you answered, smiling softly at your best friend.

Harry grinned, “I missed you.”

“I missed you too, Haz,” the boy groaned at the name but made no further comment, he pushed the wooden door open and walked inside.

The room held a long table where many adults were sat, chatting in hushed whispers when you entered the room, some of whom you recognised and some you didn’t. Mrs. Weasley was fluttering about the table, filling people’s tea cups before she spotted you. The woman, who you’d only ever met briefly at King’s Cross station one year, rushed over to you and greeted you warmly, “Hello, dear! Come, come sit down!” She ushered you to a vacant chair beside George and across from Fred, Harry took the seat on your other side. “I trust you got everything you needed from Diagon Alley? I hope that son of mine didn’t cause any trouble for you,” you gave her a friendly smile and shook your head.

“Yes, we were able to find what we needed and George was very helpful,” Mrs. Weasley, seemingly satisfied with your answer, offered a gentle smile to you and George. She then pushed a cup of tea towards you before sitting down herself.

Beneath the table George bumped his knee lightly against yours, but didn’t break from his conversation with his twin as he left his knee pressed against yours. You didn’t draw attention to it either, simply letting your knee relax against his as the witches and wizards at the long table grew quiet in favour of staring at you wordlessly.

“I’m sure you’ve all heard the news of the seer we’ve acquired,” Sirius’ commanding voice broke the silence as he stood up from his chair, and placed his palms against the table, “I’ve brought her here today so that we may discuss proceedings to ensure her safety.”

“Yes,” a toneless drawl, drawn out nasally from the end of the table drew your attention to a black haired man at the opposite end of the table, “and what of Mr. Potter’s presence?” He asked, almost menacingly. Right off the bat, you didn’t like the greasy haired man. He was rigid and his face sported a permanent snarl and from across the table you could already tell; he wasn’t on your side.

“She’s my best friend, I’m here to make sure she’s not going to be put in any unnecessary danger,” Harry told the man shortly, in a tone that he’d more than likely perfected after having spoken to the man previously.

“As touching as that may be,” the older man snarled, “you are not a member of the Order.”

“Oh, enough, Serverus,” Sirius scoffed, pulling his hand down his face in exasperation before he let his eyes settle on Harry, “Perhaps you should wait upstairs for now. We’ll let you know of any significant updates.”

“I’ll tell you everything later, promise,” you whispered quietly, linking his pinky with yours beneath the table before he stropily took his leave.

“As I was saying,” Sirius spared Severus a glare and continued, “As we know, Yn is an unregistered wizard with an unregistered wand, meaning she won’t be on the radar of The Ministry of Magic. On the downside of this, seeing as her power manifested late, she is also untrained.”

All gazes fell to you once more, only Remus’ eyes were staring softly, crinkled at the edges from the smile on his lips, “I’ll be tutoring her in Defence Against the Dark Arts over the summer. She’ll catch up quickly, no doubt,” you smiled gratefully at him from your spot, relaxing a bit knowing that you’d actually be learning how to defend yourself the wizard way.

“I suppose I will be tasked with teaching the art of Occlumency? A seer with an easily accessible mind is hardly an asset,” Severus drawled. You didn’t have a clue what occlumency was, in all honesty, but you kept your mouth shut in favour of asking Remus when the meeting was over.

The meeting soon drew to a close, the older Order members slinking to one end of the table to arrange the schedule for your glorified summer school while you, Fred and George snuck away to find Harry. You found him sitting against the headboard of a bed in one of the upstairs bedrooms, “How’d it go?”

“Take a guess, mate, Snape had a right sour look on his face the whole time,” Fred answered, sitting on the bed across from Harry’s. George sat beside him and you made your way to sit with Harry.

“Ah, so that was the infamous professor Snape?” All three boys nodded, looks of exhaustion on their faces, “I don’t trust him. Something is very off about him,” you spoke thoughtfully and the boys nodded in agreement once again.

“I don’t like the idea of you being alone with him,” George said, his brows furrowed.

Fred snorted and clapped his twin roughly on the shoulder, “Getting a bit jealous are you, Georgie?” Harry laughed along with Fred while you blushed lightly and George felt heat rising up the nape of his neck.

“Sod off,” he muttered, but made no attempt to deny that he was slightly jealous of all the alone time his old evil potions professor would be getting with the girl he was harbouring feelings for.

The afternoon quickly turned into the evening and before long you were gathering your things and preparing to return to Cecillia’s. Harry would be heading back to the Dursley’s later that night, much to his dismay. You told him you’d be back on Privet Drive at some point the next morning since Cecillia would be dropping you home, as she promised your parents, so he wouldn’t have to suffer alone for too long.

That summer came and went in a bit of a blur. Two days in each week were spent learning how to protect yourself against the dark arts with Remus. He’s an amazing teacher, that couldn’t be disputed. In the space of only two months he had you duelling like you’d been doing it since the day you were born. Of course, you were thrilled to be bonding with your wand and developing (according to Remus) a very impressive skill for Defence Against the Dark Arts. But, on top of that, the shared conversations and exchanging of stories over hefty mugs of hot chocolate with the werewolf had been a huge highlight of your summer, and had caused the two of you to grow exponentially closer.

September was nearing and with it came a stiff breeze that prompted the hair on your arms to stand alert as you waited by the bus stop, the one just down the road from your house. Today was to be an important lesson with Remus, he hadn’t told you what the lesson would entail, but he had said that it was a charm that was “of the utmost importance”.

Although June, July and August were technically your summer holidays, you’d barely had a second to rest. You were, at this point, running on fumes and sheer will power. Extensively using magic was bound to wear you out, however, getting a good night’s rest after a gruelling training session had become something of a luxury for you. Visions of the future and retellings of past torments plagued your dreams and allowed you no time to rest. One vision in particular had been reoccurring, it arrived every night for the past two weeks, taunting you. The autumn chill that dripped down your spine reminded you of the premonition, having your hairs standing due to fright, rather than cold. It was always the same, no details ever shifted or warped and, unfortunately, the experience never grew any less harrowing. The warning that the vision brought about weighed on you heavily and followed you around like a stray cat. Images of a cold, desolate, blue-hued cellar lived behind your eyes, the phantom feeling of freezing metal shackles weighed on your wrists painfully and the undiluted terror combined with the indescribable agony brought about by the unfamiliar wand shoved against your throat had you forcing yourself to stay awake until you physically couldn’t anymore, each and every night. Nobody knew about the vision, you didn’t want to worry them, though, you knew that your distress was beginning to become visible; dark bags were prominent beneath your eyes, Harry had watched you fall asleep in the middle of the day, often on his shoulder, almost everyday that week and Remus could tell by the sluggish movements of your wand that your mind was elsewhere.

A few minutes passed before your bus arrived, the journey to Grimmauld Place was quite long but you couldn’t seem to warm up to floo travel, so going on a regular bus was the better option. When the red double decker pulled up, you greeted the driver with a smile and paid for your ticket. You made your way up to the second story and sat right at the front. The bus, as it normally tended to be, was empty. Resting your head against the window, you let your eyes slip shut, the noises of tree branches brushing against the speeding windows lulling you into a, hopefully, peaceful sleep.

Thankfully when you woke up, no visions lingered. You woke up just in time too as the bus was rounding up to your stop. As usual, Remus waited for you at the bus stop, his hands shoved deep in his tattered jacket pockets and a gentle smile on his lips.

Still groggy from your nap, when you exited the bus you greeted Remus with a tired wave.

“Dare I say you haven’t been sleeping well, dear?” He said gently, walking alongside you towards the house.

You thought about it for a second, perhaps telling someone wouldn’t be the worst idea in the world. “I’ve just, well, I’ve been having this nightmare,” you started, growing nervous just thinking about it.

“Nightmare or vision?” He pressed as you walked into the house.

Guilt creeped into your chest upon seeing the clear worry on his face, “I think it’s a vision.”

Remus nodded quietly, placing his hand on the small of your back and pushing you in the direction of the living room. He gave you a warm smile, when you sat down on the sofa. He grabbed a blanket that hung over the back of the sofa and draped it over your lap. “I’ll make us some hot chocolate and we can discuss this,” he suggested.

“I thought you had an important lesson for today?” He only shook his head, smiling lightly.

He made his way to the door wordlessly and returned within two minutes with two big, steaming mugs in his hands. Remus handed you a mug and sat down beside you on the sofa, accepting your invitation to pull the blanket over his lap too.

“Now tell me; what has been going on in that wonderful mind of yours?”

You took in a deep breath, staring into the hot chocolate and avoiding his understanding gaze, “It happened for the first time around two weeks ago. I thought that it was just a dream, it didn’t feel like a dream but I thought that if I kept telling myself it was I would start to believe it,” you started, taking a sip of your drink before going back to staring at it, “But it kept coming back. Every night for the last two weeks. I haven’t been able to sleep, I’ve been too scared to,” your voice was small as you made the confession. You hated that the feeling of helplessness was beginning to wash over you yet again.

“What happens in this vision?” At his question, you placed your cup on the floor and turned to face him fully, turning on the sofa and pulling your knees up to your chest.

“It’s always the same. I wake up and the first thing I know is that I’m absolutely freezing. I’m in this cellar-like thing. I’m chained up by my wrists and my feet are barely touching the ground… I can’t see anyone but I can feel-“ your breath hitched and you rushed the swipe the tears that were falling away from your cheeks, “I can feel a wand against my throat, it’s pressing hard. There’s a whisper, it’s quiet and ghostly and I can barely make it out but I hear them say; crucio.”

Remus’ eyes widened in horror.

“Then I feel nothing but agonising pain and then I wake up,” Remus’ eyebrows furrowed.

“You’ve had this same vision every night?” You nodded.

“I know I should have said something but I didn’t want anyone to worry,” it was then that Remus grabbed your hands and looked at you with a sense of urgency you didn’t know he could possess.

“I need you to listen to me very carefully,” his eyes were wild and his hands shook lightly as they held yours, “You-Know-Who is back. There are already reports of certain Wizards going missing and none of us have any doubt that it’s his doing. And although I- we- care for you a great deal, it would serve us all well to remember that you’re a detrimental piece in this war. If he catches wind of you, he’ll stop at nothing to take you from us,” your heart was now running at the speed of a hummingbird. “We have a plan in place to keep you safe, I fear we may have to implement it sooner than planned.”

Before you knew it, you were surrounded by the entire Order of the Phoenix, all of whom looked grave. Cecillia sat to your right while Nymphadora Tonks occupied the seat to your left. You had the pink haired auror to thank for your duelling capabilities, as well as Remus of course. Her presence was comforting, she made it a point to shoot you a wink every time she caught your eyes looking more fearful than usual.

“Our original plan will need to be tweaked, I ran into Narcissa Malfoy in Diagon Alley and she very plainly insinuated that I was a person of interest in the death eating community,” Cecillia informed the table, a, for lack of a better word, bitchy tone laced in her voice. She’d told you many of her Hogwarts stories, you could recall her telling you that she and the woman she’d mentioned, Narcissa, had once been good friends until around their fourth year. She hadn’t told you what exactly had happened, only that it had been messy.

“What was the original plan?” You asked, growing frustrated with the Order’s lack of communication skills.

Thankfully, being one of the younger members of the group, Tonks understood your frustrations and spoke up on behalf of the group, regardless of whether they were ready for you to know or not; she understood that it was your life they were coordinating.

“We talked about relocating you to CeCe’s. We also, and far more pressingly, planned on erasing all traces of you from both the muggle and wizard world. Which would mean using a memory charm on your family and friends in the muggle world,” Tonks explained, eyes locked on yours while everyone else in the room glared daggers at the purple haired girl.

“Yes. Though we also planned on telling you this information with a far more delicate approach,” Snapped Molly Weasley from the end of the table, causing Fred, who sat to her left, to roll his eyes.

“She’s been riddled with visions of being ruthlessly tortured with an unforgivable curse for the past two weeks. I think the time for delicacy is long passed,” the older of the two twins practically scoffed. George nodded in agreement.

“Besides,” he set his gaze on you, eyes genuine and unwavering as he spoke, “she’s strong enough to handle the truth. It’s time you all stopped acting like she isn’t.”

The table fell silent. His words hung in the air as many of the adults hung their heads.

“By memory charm I’m assuming you mean obliviate?” You broke the silence, if you could you hoped to start an open conversation with the experienced witches and wizards that surrounded you.

“Yes. They’re completely reversible and once the war is over I’ll restore all of the memories.” Cecillia said.

“We know it’s a huge ask, dear, but it’s our best chance at keeping you out of that wretched creature’s hands,” Molly attempted to soothe both you and herself when she pictured what it would like to be in your shoes, how she’d feel if she had no other choice but to be forgotten by the thing she valued the most; her family. Molly Weasley had never been very good at hiding her maternal instincts, over the summer that fact had become glaringly obvious to you. You and Harry had laughed about how the children of Privet Drive had a special place in her heart.

“I understand,” you told her sadly, chewing on the inside of your lip, “I’m guessing by the atmosphere in the room that I won’t be home to say goodbye before you wipe their memories,” you shifted yours eyes from person to person, stopping when Cecillia took your hand firmly in hers.

Her lips were downturned and her eyes filled with guilt, she shook her head mournfully, “I’m afraid we can’t risk it, my darling. Even being here places you in danger at the moment.”

“Where will she go then? If CeCe’s place isn’t an option we’ll have to find a safe house,” Sirius sounded and, simultaneously, both Fred and George stood up, shoulder to shoulder with very professional expressions on their faces.

“We may be able to help with that, actually. George, if you would,” Fred started, nodding to his twin who straightened his shoulders and puffed his chest out over so slightly.

“Thank you, Fred. As you know, we have a property for Weasley Wizard Wheezes secured and we’ll be living in the flat above where the shop will be,” everyone at the table, including yourself, stared at the twins in confusion, not quite sure where they were going with their little pitch until Fred took over again.

“And that flat has three bedrooms,” he said, a smirk growing on his thin lips.

George spoke again, “Which means there’s one for me and one for Fred.”

“Which means there’s one spare,” Fred grinned wickedly.

Tonks let out an impressed laugh once the penny finally dropped, “We apparate her in and nobody would ever know a thing. Nobody other than those of us in the room know that Y/n is a friend of the Weasley’s, plus us visiting the joke shop wouldn’t raise any suspicion. I have to give it to them, it’s a great idea,”

“And one of the two of us will always be within shouting distance if anything happens,” George added, somewhat pleadingly.

Sirius looked across the table at you, “Y/n, it’s up to you. Whatever you decide will be final, we won’t interfere,” he promised sincerely. It was an easy decision, but still, it weighed heavily on your chest. In all honesty, you weren’t worried about your location, staying with the twins would surely be a light and fun time amidst all the doom and gloom. Your worry was that you would, once again, be handing over your control. Sirius dressed it up as though it was your choice, but you knew that this was probably their best option and in reality you really had no other choice than to move in with Fred and George.

“Sounds good to me,” you whispered halfheartedly, eyes dropping to stare at your lap as your teeth pulled anxiously at the skin of your lips.

“So it’s settled then,” Remus said, “Y/n will go with Fred and George tonight.”

Abruptly, you pushed your chair away from the table and stood up. Sparing nobody a glance, you left the room as quickly as you possibly could, before the lump in your throat could choke you or the tears that pooled in your eyes spilled like water through a broken dam. George made a move to rise from his seat only for Remus to stop him by placing his hand on the boy’s shoulder, “Give her a moment.”

You found yourself locked in the second story bathroom, sitting in the bath. Your legs hung out over the side of the tub while your head was tilted back against the black tiled wall. As hard as you tried to prevent them, tears were streaming down the expense of your cheeks, neck and beneath the neckline of your shirt. The minutes ticked by yet your chest continued to rise and fall rapidly due to the sobs that shook it, your breath uneven. Visions of brutal torture were bad enough when you were in your own home, in your own warm bed, with your parents just a room away and ready to make you a hot cup of tea after you woke up screaming. Now, the visions would without a doubt continue to plague you, unlike before though, you wouldn’t be waking up in a familiar setting, nor would you fall asleep in the comfort of your own mattress, when you woke up screaming so loud that your throat grew raw, your comfort would rely on two seventeen year old boys who seldom took things seriously. It’s not that you didn’t trust them, no, you trusted them with your life- you are trusting them with your life, it’s just that there was already a lot going on in your mind at the moment, moving in with your crush and his identical twin brother isn’t exactly your idea of a nerve killer.

A knock against the bathroom door pulled you from your thoughts. You rushed to wipe your tears with your sleeves, sniffling, “Come in,” you choked out. Cursing your voice for breaking when you spoke.

Remus’ head poked through the door, his body following soon after. Even in an atmosphere as dense as this one, a sense of gentle calm always followed Remus wherever he went. Clumsily, the werewolf slid into the bath beside you with a low “oof” sound, mimicking your position with his much longer legs dangling closer to the wooden floor than your own.

“CeCe has gone to collect your things for you and get Harry, then, I believe, perform the spell,” he eyed you cautiously, hyper aware of your glassy eyes and puffy face. When your eyes widened and you whipped your face towards him, his stomach twisted into knots, he hated seeing you like this. He could sympathise with your feelings. When James and Lily were killed, and Sirius went to Azkaban and even when Peter was presumed dead, Remus had been left with a vicious frustration fuelled by his belief that he was utterly powerless in his own life. He could see in your eyes that that same notion was starting to creep up on you too.

“Already?” You gasped out, pulse rising again, a slight panic setting in. “It won’t hurt them will it? The spell?” You fretted, looking pleadingly to the man beside you.

He shook his head, tenderly taking your hand and placing it against his clothed chest, his beating heart present against the palm of your shaking hand. “I promise you that they won’t feel a thing. They will go on living an exciting life, travelling, seeing the world safely while you’re away. When this is all over we’ll place their memories of you back in their minds and it will be as though you were never gone.” Your teeth found the inside of your cheek again, gnawing relentlessly at the skin as you failed miserably to hold back a fresh set of tears. Remus squeezed the hand he held against his chest. “Let it out, Y/n. It’s okay, I won’t tell anyone,” he whispered, heart sinking lower when your bottom lip quivered and you let a rasped sob leave your body. With a deep sigh, Remus used the hand he was already holding as leverage to pull you into him, wasting no time he enveloped you in his arms, holding you securely as you cried against his chest. Admittedly, it felt good to let it out, Remus’ hand rubbed soothing circles against your heaving back and eventually, you didn’t know how long it had been, you calmed down, your tear ducts all dried out.

Remus held you in his arms for a while longer, even though you’d stopped crying, he could feel your body as it continued to shake. “I can’t promise you it will all be okay, but I can assure you that myself and Sirius, and everyone else for that matter, will be there for you at the drop of a hat; whatever you need,” he spoke against your hair.

“Whatever I need?” You echoed, the pit in your stomach ever growing.

“Of course,” he confirmed.

Remus startled slightly when you suddenly tore yourself away from him. As best you could in your awkward position, you turned to face him and grabbed his hands with as much urgency as he had done with yours. “I need you to do something for me,” Remus furrowed his brows in confusion, but nodded his head anyway.

“If anything happens to me… Don’t make them remember,” you instructed, maybe the request would’ve seemed radical if you had said it to anyone else, but you knew that Remus had experienced losses like no one else you knew, perhaps Harry came close but even his shortcomings couldn’t compare to Remus’. “It’d only cause them pain. If I die and they’re happily living none the wiser, leave them be, please,” the man let out a heavy sigh and took a moment to take you in. Your eyes were hard yet pleading, they left him no room to negotiate and he understood perfectly where you were coming from.

“Alright,” he agreed before raising his eyebrow and readjusting himself to get a better look at you, “However you should know; no matter what may come of this war, none of us will forget about you. In such a short time you’ve given us so much… you gave Harry his first friendship, a friendship that he cherishes more than anything in the world, I might add. You saved Sirius from death, my fiancé and Harry’s godfather. Mentoring you has given Cecillia a new lease of life and Molly Weasley one more child to knit jumpers for at Christmas,” he took a brief pause then went on, “For the sake of saving time I won’t even begin to tell you what you mean to the twins. My point is;” there was a melancholic type of smile on his face when he paused again, as if he was imagining what it would be like to remember you fondly if you did in fact die for the cause, “What you’re asking is incredibly selfless. And while your mother and father may not remember how wonderful you are, we all will.” Remus chuckled lowly when you shuffled your way back into his arms, squeezing his middle tightly. He slung his arm around your shoulders and delicately pressed his lips to the top of your head. You held so much love in your heart for the man who was currently cradling you in his arms. You debated telling him, you weren’t sure if it was entirely appropriate but after the speech he’d just given you couldn’t have cared less, “Remus?”

“Hm?”

“I love you,” you murmured, looking up at him innocently.

He offered you a toothy smile and breathed out a soft laugh, “I love you too.” With a content nod, you rested your head back against his chest, enjoying his soothing heartbeats against your ear. A melodic hum rumbled against your cheek, a quiet giggle left your mouth when you recognised the melody to the song he was humming. The tune of “Rhiannon” by Fleetwood Mac floated through the bathroom bringing a genuine smile to your lips. The werewolf’s humming was interrupted by another knock against the bathroom door, whoever was knocking didn’t wait for a response before entering the room. Sirius stepped in and quietly shut the door behind him. He didn’t question you and Remus' position in the bath but simply slid into the tub on the other side of you, sandwiching you between himself and Remus. The black haired man let out a heavy sigh and leaned his head back against the tiles.

“The mother hens downstairs are worrying up a storm,” he said in exasperation, “I don’t think I’ve ever seen Tonks so riled up about someone’s safety. I tasked Molly with making you some hot chocolate to keep her occupied”

“Maybe I should go back down…” you muttered halfheartedly, begrudgingly peeling yourself away from Remus’ warm body.

Sirius gave you an apologetic look, “I held them off for as long as I could.”

“Thanks,” you whispered, bumping your shoulder to his, making him chuckle. After pulling yourself out of the bath, rather clumsily, you took a second to check yourself over in the mirror.

“You’re glowing, darling,” Sirius all but sang from behind you and you couldn’t stop the slight snort that escaped you.

“That’s one way to put it.”

“If you don’t believe me go on downstairs and ask George what he thinks,” Sirius teased, wiggling his eyebrows and receiving a light shove from his fiancé who couldn’t hide his grin.

“Leave her alone, love,” he chastised weakly, “You look perfectly fine, Y/n. Go downstairs and get something to drink, you need to rehydrate.” A bittersweet smile broke out on your lips, his fatherly tone simultaneously soothed you and left you yearning for what you were in the process of losing. Trying not to dwell on the sad fact, you left the bathroom and slowly descended the stairs.

As you assumed, the second you stepped back into the kitchen, Molly began to fret over you as if her life depended on it. Sipping on the hot chocolate she’d given you, you were reminded of how desperately tired you were. All the crying hadn’t helped ease the heaviness in your eyes either. Every bone in your body felt heavy for that matter, you were struggling to even hold your head up.

“You can lean against my shoulder if you’d like,” George’s voice broke you from your hazed state, you’d completely forgotten he was sitting beside you despite his leg that was pressed against yours beneath the table. You gave him a sleepy but grateful smile, as subtly as you could you scooched closer to the ginger and slotted yourself against his side, letting your head fall onto his shoulder. “Will you keep me awake until Harry and Cecillia get here?” You requested in a slurred murmur, your eyes fluttering between open and shut.

“Of course,” was all he said, he looked down at you adoringly, smiling like an idiot when you nuzzled into his shoulder, your nose rubbing against his neck. Try as he might, George couldn’t pull his eyes away from your drowsy face. “What do you propose we do?”

You shrugged your shoulders lightly, “Just talk.”

“How would you like your new room decorated?” He asked quietly, his head tilted down while he spoke to you, so you could hear him and so he wouldn’t ruin the lulled bubble you’d managed to obtain between you by talking too loudly. A sweet smile grew on your face, a smile that all but knocked all the breath out of George’s lungs when you angled your head to make eye contact.

“Can I have a double bed?” George snorted at your question and shook his head no.

“Nothing smaller than a king. What else?”

You pretended to ponder for a moment, “Can we paint it?” The ginger nodded, taking his bottom lip between his teeth.

“If you want to,” he started, almost sounding nervous, “We could paint it together?” Even in your sleep deprived state you hadn’t missed the vulnerability in his voice, it was the same vulnerability that you’d noticed when he’d asked you to go get a butterbeer with him a couple of months ago.

“I’d love that,” you told him, your answer causing his lips to twist into a pleased smile, “How do you feel about the colour green?”

Immediately, his smile dropped and he let out a disgusted scoff, “Green is a Slytherin colour.”

“You keep forgetting that I don’t get the whole house sorty thing,” you reminded him, not happy with his reasoning for hating your favourite colour. “Besides, I love green, it’s my favourite colour.” You told him truthfully. Not content with his disgruntled facial expression you began to defend your preference, “A lot of beautiful things are green; you’ve got grass, trees, emeralds- did you know that emeralds are really useful for enhancing psychic abilities? It also evokes clarity of thought,” you rambled, willing yourself to be quiet when you registered George’s fond expression.

The look of endearment aimed at you brought butterflies to life in your stomach, effectively waking you up somewhat.

“Do you have any emerald?” He asked, you assumed he was only feigning interest, you didn’t know that he could’ve listened to you go on and on about anything and everything for the rest of his life.

“No, not yet. I should probably get some though.” You said through a yawn. Your breath against his neck made him giggle, it was pure and unsuspecting but you took note of it. Everything about George Weasley felt like sunshine to you, his laugh filled your chest with warmth whenever you heard it, his eyes found yours like a lighthouse, guiding your lost mind back to the present each time your gazes connected. His voice, like his laugh, warmed you up when you were cold, giving you a reason to stay awake when you’d rather just slip away. In conjunction with the sun, even if you couldn’t physically see him, you never doubted that he was always there. As well as all of that, like your favourite tarot card; The Sun, he signified good things, hope that hard times will end with you on top, contentment and happiness. While your thoughts consisted of George’s similarities to the sun, his were consumed with the, in his mind, overwhelmingly cheesily romantic notion that you were the moon and the stars, he would’ve cringed if he didn’t wholeheartedly believe it. Everything that made the night sky magnificent was reflected in you. Like the stars, you were mysterious and captivating. Nothing seemed to compare to your glow or beauty, if you were to ask him what he preferred; you or the night sky on a clear night, he’d happily ignore a blank, starless sky in favour of simply staring at you as you went on tangent after tangent about crystals or tarot cards.

The pair of you were pulled from your musings when Harry rushed through the kitchen door looking unmistakably heartbroken, ever the empath when it came to his best friend, Harry’s heart sank the moment he laid eyes on your form, limp against George’s side. The second you saw him you all but ripped yourself from George’s side and the older redhead felt a surge of irrational jealousy begin to build in his chest at how fast you left his hold in favour of the chosen one. He knew it was ridiculous, he’d heard the way each of you respectively talked about each other, at this point you were practically siblings. But he supposed it was rational to be jealous when you liked someone the way he liked you.

Quickly, you crossed the room to Harry who had his arms already outstretched. He knew you were emotionally exhausted when you didn’t bear hug him. You meekly slid your arms beneath his open zip-up hoodie, tucked your head beneath his chin and didn’t say a word. “I shouldn’t bother asking if you’re okay then,” Harry muttered to himself, leaning his cheek against the top of your head and wrapping his lanky arms around your frame.

“Did Cecillia remember to bring Astra?” You asked, it was all you wanted to know about the night’s events.

“She’s in her cage in the living room, darling,” Cecilia said, walking into the room looking guilty.

“C’mon, let’s go have a chat,” Harry suggested, leading you out of the kitchen and upstairs to his unofficial room. Once inside the room you sat down on the edge of the bed, the blue duvet softly creasing beneath you. Harry plopped himself down beside you and offered you a gesture that was always saved for when either of you felt the other was on the edge of something dangerous. Your hands rested against your lap and he deftly slid his pinky over yours, intertwining your two littlest fingers. It was such a familiar experience; he’d done it when your grandparents died, when you’d cried over failed exams that you worked hard for, and in turn, you did it for him when he’d felt as though he had no place in the world, when he’d open up about his parents and when Cedric died and the ministry dragged his name through the mud you’d find your pinky tangled with his almost every night after he’d sneak over to your place after another nightmare or panic attack. “Do you want to talk about it?”

You shook your head, “Not tonight. I don’t want to cry anymore,” you croaked out, looking straight ahead of you at the grey painted wall.

“I understand,” he said, sighing and dropping his head onto your shoulder, “Let’s talk about something else then.”

“Like what, Haz?”

Harry snorted out a chuckle, “Like the way George looked like he wanted to hex me when you left him to come to me,” he teased, a smug lilt to his voice.

“He wasn’t teasing me, perhaps I’ll go back to him,” you grumbled, ignoring Harry’s childish giggles.

“Yeah you’d like that wouldn’t you?” You smacked his arm lightly with your free hand, doing a bad job of containing giggles of your own. “Don’t worry, since he’s going to be your new roommate there will be plenty of time for “oh George I’m so sleepy, please hold me until I fall asleep”,” you let out a cackle at Harry’s terrible impression of your voice, laying your cheek against his wild hair.

“That is so not what was going on, Haz,” you defended with a tiny smile.

Harry let out an airy, disbelieving chuckle, “Then what was going on?”

“He just said I could lean on him until you and Cecillia arrived and we just started chatting about how I wanna decorate my room,” you explained truthfully and Harry nodded.

“Riveting,” he mumbled sarcastically. Despite his snarky comment, the boy removed his head from your shoulder and pulled you against his chest. “Jokes aside, I’m glad you’re staying with him, I know he’ll look after you for me,” you rolled your eyes at the sentiment.

“I don’t need to be looked after,” you reminded him, looking up at him with a chastising smile.

He rolled his eyes right back at you, jostling you slightly in his arms, “No. But you like to be.”

You threw your head back in laughter, “Yeah, I suppose I do.” You did. You quite like both doting on people and being doted on, you’d grown up in an affectionate family so it was no wonder really.

“It’s getting late. We should get you settled into your new home,” Harry announced, pulling himself and you up from the bed, “I wasn’t going to say anything but you look terrible. You need sleep.”

“Thank you, Harry. Just what every girl wants to hear before moving in with her crush,” you joked, gently hitting your hip against his.

The kitchen was quiet when you returned, it seemed everyone had grown tired from the dramatic events of the evening.

“Ready to go then?” Fred asked, his coat already on and a handful of your bags in his hands.

“As I’ll ever be I suppose.”

After saying goodbye to everyone you, Fred and George traveled to their apartment by floo, to your dismay. The apartment was bare as they’d only just moved in but you could see it had lots of potential for becoming a cozy home for the twins.

As your first night in your new residence began, your aching eyes and tired mind didn’t leave you with any time to dwell on current events, the second your head made contact with the pillow you were out like a light. A dreamless slumber welcomed you for a while until your peace was broken by the all too familiar nightmare.

The first thing you recognised was the burn coming from your wrists. Shackles adorned them and effectively held your hands high above your head, stretching them uncomfortably. Goosebumps painted the expanse of your arms and legs, due to the freezing temperature in the nondescript cellar. A feeling of hopelessness planted firmly in your chest, the feeling only hightening when the familiar echo of footsteps, heavy and loud, drifted from the corridor outside of your field of vision. You knew who was approaching, you’ve lived this before, and so, you held your lip between your teeth and squeezed your eyes shut. The face of the dark wizard who always brought about your intense suffering was, for the most part, completely fuzzy, unrecognisable, featureless and bone-chillingly terrifying. You’d learned over the last two weeks of having this vision that it was less harrowing if you closed your eyes.

“I’ll ask you once more,” The voice was distorted, like it was being heard through a weedy radio, ominously unplaceable, “Where is he?”

You held no control over your voice, as was the norm during visions, as you felt and heard yourself reply, “I’ll tell you once more; I’d sooner die then sell him to you.” You felt your teeth gritting and your jaw clenching while you spoke. Jaw only tightening when the pointed tip of the wizard’s wand stabbed unforgivingly against the column of your neck.

“And die you will, my dear. But not yet-“ your eyes sealed themselves shut and you did your best to shake yourself out of the vision before what you knew was coming took place, as usual, your attempts were fruitless, “-Crucio.” Just like that your body was consumed by pain, the likes of which you’d never imagined possible, until you couldn’t even register yourself screaming anymore.

You bolted upright, clutching at the sheets of your new bed. Laboured breaths left your mouth and you aimlessly gripped at your neck, where the wand had been pressed, and let the tears spill freely. Momentarily disoriented, you’d forgotten where you were. Deep, heavy bursts of air left your mouth as you hastily scurried out of bed and towards the door. Somewhat aimlessly, you gravitated to the door across the hall. A yellow hue seeped from under the frame into the otherwise dark hallway. Light flooded the hall once you managed to fumble the handle down and pull the door ajar, a discombobulated ginger greeting you with half lidded eyes, obviously having been dozing off before you disturbed his peace.

“Sorry,” you rasped once your peace of mind returned to you and you realised where you were. Despite knowing that you shouldn’t have been standing numbly in his doorway, your feet seemed to be rooted in place, you couldn’t have walked away if you wanted to.

“S’alright,” George called out to you softly, sitting up in his bed, his back against the headboard. “You can come in, you know.”

Shutting the door behind you, you nervously shuffled into the room, stopping when you reached the side of his bed. George’s eyes roamed your face and he took notice of your still somewhat panicked expression, he drew his covers to the side and patted the empty space by his side. Something that always intrigued you was people’s preferred side of the bed, some people gravitated towards the left while others were more biased towards the right, but George Weasley? He slept right in the middle. The twin slept with a huge number of pillows, to the point where it was almost laughable, many of which you could only guess he’d smuggled from the Burrow.

Far too wound up to save face, you slid into his bed and didn’t shy away when he guided you into his side and tucked you tenderly beneath his lean arm. His embrace offered a greatly appreciated warmth as the chill of the dank dungeon always lingered long after the vision itself was over.

“What’re you doing up so late?” You asked, your voice gravelly. As you spoke, George effortlessly shuffled your body and his down so that your backs were resting on the mattress and not the headboard. Your head found it’s home against George’s shoulder and your hair was being tentatively twirled between his fingers.

“It’s our first night actually sleeping here. I couldn’t get to sleep,” he explained, his voice low and laced with fatigue. “I’m not really used to having my own room. It’s strange not hearing Freddie snoring or breathing.”

“I get that,” you whispered, “it’s quite comforting knowing for certain that someone is there with you.”

George nodded then. His eyes were glued to your face and he hadn’t even registered his own thought process before his lips were pressing delicately against your forehead. Today had appeared to be the day for laying all your cards out on the table, yourself and George hadn’t danced around your feelings for each other half as much as you usually did when you’d be in each other’s presence. Neither of you had the energy anymore, besides, if today’s events proved anything it was that; things were getting seriously messy as the war built momentum and it was clear that time was something that could very well be running out.

“Yeah,” he regarded you carefully, a little grin growing on his lips, “It is.”

A comfortable silence overtook the room. George’s twirling of your hair never ceased, every now and then his fingers would ghost over your shoulder and you’d catch yourself smiling against the cotton of his shirt as your eyes grew tired enough that they were close to falling shut.

Just as you were working up the motivation to lift yourself up and trudge back to your own bed, George spoke, “You can sleep here if you want, with me,” there was that innocent vulnerability again. There was never an ulterior motive when it came to him, he did things purely for the sake of making others happy, if he felt he could make a difference he simply needed to. Especially when it came to you, he realised.

“You don’t mind?” You asked, daring to peek up at him.

“Course not. I could use some company anyway.” He reassured you, his lips returning to your forehead, only this time the action held far more intention. “You don’t snore do you, love?”

You snorted out a giggle, looking up at the ginger cheekily, mischief dripping from your little grin that forced George’s heart to stutter rather violently and he hoped you hadn’t noticed. “No. But I drool.”

George’s face contorted, his nose scrunching up adorably in disgust, “Do you really?”

“Suppose you’ll have to find out, won’t you?” You teased and he sighed deeply, his disgruntled expression melting into a soft, adoring smile.

“I should’ve expected this, I knew you couldn’t have been completely perfect,” he said, mockingly sorrowful.

You scoffed, pushing his chest lightly, “You’re doing a lot of sweet talking tonight, Mr. Weasley,” you told him and he shrugged innocently.

“Just wanted to see you smiling again, darling.”

“Yeah, well, you’re doing a good job,” you assured him, the bashful yet tired smile that stretched your lips as you gazed up at him proved that you meant what you’d just said. “I like it by the way, the sweet talking.”

At your words, a huge, shit eating smirk grew on the boy’s freckled face. He managed to rearrange your bodies so that you were still tucked under his arm but you were now facing each other at eye level. “I knew it,” he proclaimed cockily.

You raised a challenging eyebrow, biting back a smirk, “Oh did you?”

George nodded pridefully, “‘Course I did. You see, I’m a little bit psychic,” his words forced a booming laugh from your lips, your cheeks hurting from the smile he’d orchestrated.

You shook your head, smile never dulling as you let out a chastising whisper, “oh sod off.”

“I love your smile,” he said suddenly, his eyes widened in horror when he realised he’d uttered the words out loud. The world could’ve stopped in that moment and you wouldn’t have noticed, all you could take in was George’s face, his eyes searching yours for something.

Carefully, you slid from hand from his chest to his red, blushing face. You cupped his cheek gently, moving your thumb against his cheek bone, almost swooning where you lay when he nuzzled against your touch. Working up some Gryffindor courage, George mimicked your movement, removing his arm from around your shoulder and bringing his palm to rest against the curve of your jaw.

As you stared at each other, you weighed up the pros and cons of telling him that you were completely head over heels for him. Your decision, apparently taking far too long, was made for you when George tugged you impossibly closer to him.

“I wasn’t going to tell you… you’ve had so much going on I didn’t want to overwhelm you,” he said, brown eyes boring into your soul.

“Tell me what?”

He took a deep breath, preparing himself for every possible outcome that may spring once the words on the tip of his tongue are spoken aloud, “That I love you.”

#george weasley x reader #harry potter x reader #sirius black x reader #remus lupin x reader #marauders x reader #fred weasly x reader

[ameliora-j]

twin flame iii // gw x reader

words: 2.2k

warnings: angst, breakup, mention of bruising, crying, angelina slander kinda (it’s just for the story i love her sm!), yn is sorta a pick me if you squint sry, cringey mediocre writing at very best

an: i used song lyrics for some of the argument and the ending :) i hope you like it besties!

part one | part two | part four

you george! i want you!

the words had been running through his mind since the night you left. he had been going over the days leading up to your explosion in his mind for weeks. your words were in his mind day and night. your pained expression, your anger, your hurt. you consumed him. more than you usually did.

george weasley knew he fucked up. he knew without anyone telling him. but they did anyway. every waking second they did. first it was fred, calling him a jerk. then ron, who called him a “bloody idiot.” then ginny, who told him it was his own fault. and then his mum. of course his mum, who said in exact words: “george fabian weasley, this is nobody’s fault but your own. quit moping around and do something to fix it! i didn’t raise you to treat women this way!”

his last straw, however, was his older brother percy. percy of all people. who looked at him with a disappointed shake of his head. receiving a disappointed head shake from percy was nothing out of the ordinary, especially for george. it was his words that stung. percy spoke ten simple words to him that truly set george off. percy spoke “you lost the best thing that’s ever happened to you.” at his sentence, george lost it.

“i know that percy! you don’t think i fucking know that i lost the best thing that ever happened to me! and fred i know i’m a jerk and ron i know i’m an idiot and ginny i know it’s my fault and mum i’m sorry okay! i know you didn’t raise me like this i don’t know what’s wrong with me but i don’t think she’s coming back!” he fell back onto the couch as he tugged frustratedly at his roots.

“george… do you love her?” molly asked him.

“yes mum,” a whimper escaped the fiery-haired boy’s throat. “i love her more than i’ve ever loved anyone before. she’s my world,” he revealed.

“then go, george. go get her,” his dad said. “for your sake and her’s,” he told him.

“and our’s!” fred called distantly from the kitchen.

“shove off fred!” george called back before apparating to your front door. he knocked three times and waited for someone to answer it. when you opened the door, he was shocked at your state.

makeup streaked down your cheeks with your shoulder bruised and your arm in a splint. your eyes were red and puffy, but they were furthermore accompanied by dark bags as if you hadn’t slept in weeks. the truth is; you hadn’t. “hi george,” you mumbled half heartedly.

“hi butterfl-“ you cut him off.

“yn. my name is yn,” you spoke sternly.

“i’ve called you butterfly since you were three…” he murmured.

“not anymore. hurts too bad to hear it. did you need something?” you quickly changed the subject.

“i want to talk to you,” he said. you nodded and walked in, telling him to follow you. george said hello to your brother and then followed you into the lounge where you two sat on the loveseat and you turned to face him.

you sat in a long silence as your eyes traced each other’s features. you memorized him. every line, every freckle, every bump, bruise, and blemish. the silence was deafening. untill he finally broke it. “what happened to your arm?” he murmured softly.

“it splinched when i apparated home. then i apparated again and made it worse,” you bit your lip softly.

“always so reckless,” he tutted softly, causing you to shrug.

“what’d you wanna talk about? know you didn’t come to talk about my arm…” you attempted to get to the point of his visit.

“right,” he murmured softly. “yn i…” he took a deep breath. “the day that i let you walk out of my life is the day that i made the worst mistake in the history of mistakes. i’ve done some stupid things in my life, but letting you walk away has by far been the stupidest. i’m so so sorry that i hurt you the way i did, i cannot express to you how sorry i am, i truly cannot. i love you, yn. with all of me i do, you have to believe me when i say that.”

“i do believe you george. i just don’t believe that you love me the way that i love you. and carrying around that pain is killing me. i mean absolutely destroying me. you live in my mind rent free. you’ve infested it,” you told him. “you with your stupid pretty smile and your god awful jokes and your ridiculous pranks that you somehow always rope me into and your perfect hair and your pretty eyes and just. you. george. stupid you. oblivious you. godric george,” you roughly shoved his chest. “i’ve loved you for years and you’ve always looked past me!” tears rimmed your bottom lash line and your voice cracked as you lashed out on him.

“for years george, i mean years! i’ve watched you fall in love with countless girls just to have your heart broken by them. i stuck by you through everything. even when you stopped being being my friend because it made angelina uncomfortable i waited for you george! and you just pushed me to the side. i did everything for you. i executed pranks for you. i planned pranks for you. i took the fall for you. i got detention for you! i did it all for you. i mean the countless amount of things i did just to be able to call you mine and i just… you didn’t care! you’ve never cared! you’ll never love me the way that i love you and that hurts. so. fucking. bad.” you wiped your eyes.

“it kills me george. it eats at me, every single day it does. i stood by your side and i took the blame with you even when i had nothing to do with the stupid shit you pulled at hogwarts because yeah i was going down, but hey, at least i was doing it with you, right? we made so much trouble and-and we used to laugh. and be happy. we were genuinely happy and i don’t know where we went wrong but we did, but i still say that i hate you with a smile on my face! i don’t get it george why don’t you love me!” a whimper tore itself from the depths of your chest as you let out a silent sob.

“now look what we’ve became…” he murmured, tears falling from your eyes.

“all the things i did just to call you mine… and… and all the things you said but… somehow, i still hope i was your favorite crime. cause merlin knows you were mine.” you sniffled as you wiped your eyes.

“you were mine. you’ll always be my favorite crime.” he leaned over and kissed your head as another silent sob racked your body. “now it’s bittersweet to think about the damage that we did,” he smiled over at you sadly. “i love you butterfly. just as much as you love me, if not more,” he whispered as he stood from his place.

you rolled your eyes water-logged eyes, but still managed to smile. “i wish you thought about that before,” you whispered.

“i do too… i guess i’ll have to just call you the one that got away then?” he asked.

“in another life georgie… i’d be your girl. and we’d keep every promise that we made,” you told him.

“and i wouldn’t have to say you were the one that got away,” you nodded as he kissed your head again. “i love you, butterfly. i always have.”

“i love you too, georgie. i always will,” you sniffled as you watched him walk out the door. you didn’t want this. you wanted to stop him. everything in your body screamed at you to stop him. but your brain wouldn’t work. your heart said no. you were scared of being hurt again.

you wanted to do something. yell at him. tell him to come back. to hug you. to never leave you. to never let you go. but your heart wouldn’t let you. you were frozen in time.

~~

it’ll all get better in time.

you’d heard the saying time and time again. especially after your parents passed away. it was people’s favorite line to use when they saw you. the truth is… you didn’t stop hurting. the pain didn’t go away. you just got used to it. but the pain you were feeling now… you didn’t know if it would ever go away. at least it didn’t feel like it.

two months. it had been two months since george walked out of your house that night. it was nobody’s fault but your own, and somehow you couldn’t help wishing he would’ve stayed.

you saw him everywhere. in the stars in the night sky. in the sunrise and the sunset. in coffee shops and store windows. even in your dreams when you slept. so logically, you decided to stop. if you didn’t sleep you couldn’t dream. and if you didn’t dream, you couldn’t see him.

you dutifully ignored the pain in your chest like an annoying bug on a picnic. you pretended that you were fine, but the reality was; you weren’t. but you played it off. and you were able to keep up your facade. untill one day… that one fateful day tucked in the corner at ninety three diagon alley. your brother asked you to pick up ten second pimple vanisher because he had a date tonight and just received a pimple the size of jupiter on his nose, causing him to look like “the muggle myth rudolph the red-nosed reindeer” as he put it.

you walked into the shop and kept your head down as you searched the aisles. it wasn’t where it usually was. you knew this shop like the back of your hand, of course you had… you’d worked there for nearly three years. you furrowed your brows as you looked around. the shop had completely transformed. nothing was in the place it usually was. that’s when your eyes landed there. on her. right at the front, behind the till at the register you worked, in the uniform you wore was angelina johnson.

you sighed deeply as you extended your neck around the corner to where the office was. you smiled triumphantly as you saw fred sitting at his desk and began your trek. you gently knocked twice on the opened door and fred called, “come in,” distractedly.

you walked in and sat on the desk, right in front of him, forcing him to look up at you. “yn!” fred exclaimed.

“hi freddie!” you smiled as a giggle escaped your lips and you returned the death-grip hug he had enveloped you in.

“what brings you by? not that i don’t love seeing your pretty face, of course,” he shot you a playfully flirtatious wink.

“ybn needs ten second pimple vanisher because he has a date tonight and he woke up with a pimple the size of jupiter on his nose,” fred laughed loudly at your remark. “i tried to look for it, but the stores completely turned around,” you pouted slightly.

“oh yeah, we changed some things up because we needed room for our new products. they’re still in the making, but george disappeared,” he hummed.

“george what?” you asked.

“you didn’t know…?” he asked you.

“no. i… i had no idea,” you stuttered.

“yeah. after the night he went to talk to you, he left a note on our kitchen counter and all his things were packed and he just… left. we haven’t seen or heard from him since. ‘s just been angie and i running the shop now. couldn’t do it alone,” fred explained as he picked up the box. “here you are l-“ before he could finish, you were halfway out the door. “YN WAIT!” he called. “YOU FORGOT YOUR PRODUCT!”

“SORRY FRED! YBN WILL BE OKAY I HAVE TO GO!” you called as you ran out the door as fast as your feet would carry you. if you knew george weasley… and you did… there was only one place he could be. and you prayed to any and every god that would listen that he was there. you prayed like your life depended on it that he was okay. you needed to fix this. to fix him. to make it alright.

in this moment you knew that he needed you. he needed you like peanut butter needs jelly. the way left needs right. like the sun needs the moon. he needed you like you needed him. you ran and ran and ran for miles untill you got to a secluded area. then you took a breath. and you apparated.

it was exactly the way you left it. a dingy old wooden box house sitting at the highest branch of a sycamore tree. you groaned softly as you began to climb the many branches. “george i swear to godric you better be in here,” you grumbled to yourself as you climbed.

it felt like hours—truly it was ten grueling minutes at most—untill you got to the door of the house. you whispered the password and it creaked open. “georgie,” you breathed when you saw him.

there he was. laying on the floor of the treehouse wrapped in blankets and a sleeping bag with a small pillow under his head. the apple to your pie. the straw to your berry. the smoke to your high. the one you knew you’d marry.

the one that got away. your twin flame.

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#twin flame #george weasley #harry potter #harry potter x reader #charlie weasley x reader #charlie weasley #george weasley x reader #best friends to lovers #harry potter angst #harry potter smut #harry potter fanfiction #harry potter fluff #george weasley smut #george weasly angst #george weasley fluff #twin flame series #twin flame part three