Tumgik
#called my mum like ‘I’m not being dumb right there’s no shops or anything after arrivals it’s just the exit’
hella1975 · 8 months
Text
11pm in manchester airport plane landed at 10pm after being DELAYED AND ANNOYING AND EVERYTHING WRONG WITH RYANAIR for over an hour. when is my train home from this godforsaken city you ask? 5am. good job im stuck in arrivals where there are no coffee shops or even regular charging ports haha. so glad to be spending the next six hours sat by the squeaky baggage claim machine. thank god my mum was sympathetic about it right haha… right????
63 notes · View notes
amor-immortalem · 3 years
Text
Replaced
Genre: Heavy Angst, Angst with a somewhat happy ending.
Warning: The following piece is my take on the replaced! au with Arella. Dark themes lie ahead. If you are triggered by feelings of abandonment, suicidal ideation, or outright suicide, this mini fic is not safe for you to read. Please continue at your own discretion.
A/N: I did it guys! I actually managed to break myself with this mini fic by digging into my own abandonment issues. It was fun- cathartic almost. Please enjoy! Also, spoilers for the lesson 16 incident.
What does it feel like to be replaced? If you were to ask Arella, she’d say it felt bitter and painful. Like someone was holding a white-hot branding iron to her stomach and pushing it in to the point it ate through all the layers of her skin and was now searing through her stomach or like someone was rubbing salt into a open, festering wound.
When Diavolo had announced to the other student council officers that a new exchange student would be joining their ranks, Arella was excited- especially when she found out the new student was a female- there was only so much Arella could talk about in a house full of men and one genderless individual that they would understand, all of them having been assigned male at birth and whatnot. So, another woman among their ranks would be a breath of fresh air for her. And it was for a time being- until the brothers had taken favor to this new human.
It started within months of this new exchange student arriving. One by one, her favorite demons started hanging around her more often. It wasn't like Arella could be mad at them. This human was novel and oh so different from Arella. She was everything Arella was not, from her blonde hair to her well-developed body- even her height, which matched closer to the brothers. She was everything human world media told a girl she should be. She even looked like she fit in with them- having taken to the Devildom like a duck to water even without being able to use magic.
Arella wants to be angry with this girl, but she can’t. This girl, named Melissa, was so sweet it was almost enough to make Arella sick. She was smart, innocent, and -above all else- selfless. It was apparent the boys adored her immediately. One by one, Arella was losing them to the charms of this new girl. The first to go was Satan, clearly smitten by her love of books and knowledge of obscure but very talented authors. The second to go was Asmo, often taking her out to clubs or on long shopping trips that often lasted well past curfew. And just like that the other brothers started to follow suit. Game nights between her and Levi? Gone. Drawing up budgets with Lucifer? Not anymore. Going out with Beel to cafes? Not in her wildest dreams. Naptimes up in the attic with Belphie? Hah! Fat chance. The last and most painful to pull away was Mammon- her first man. The one who swore he would always be there for her when she needed him. And oh how she needed him.
Just like when Arella had first come to the Devildom, Mammon was given the task of watching over Melissa by Lucifer. At first Arella tried to justify it as Lucifer worrying about the girl’s safety as even though his brothers had gotten better at controlling themselves, they still had their moments.
As time went on however, she started to notice the little things. Missed movie nights between them, date nights often forgotten about in favor of showing Melissa his favorite spots around the city, the loss of any physical intimacy. Soon, he stopped seeing her all together. Things that she and Mammon did together were now reserved for Melissa: casino trips, movie nights, pranks on Lucifer that would have the eldest chasing after them, running around the city until it was nearly what could considered to be the Devildom’s equivalent of dawn. She knew he was completely gone when she walked down to the dining room for supper one evening and overheard them just casually flirting. Mammon didn’t even make any attempts to dissuade Melissa’s advances. He remembered he actually had a girlfriend, right? Right?!
Or were they even a thing anymore? It had been months since they’d spent any substantial time together outside of classes and even then, he’d moved seats to sit closer to the new human. He’d either ignore her texts or straight up just ghost her altogether. As she listened to them, she had to push down the possessive tendencies that tried to force their way out of her. She pushed them back down into the flimsily locked box they had always been contained in and burying them down in the deepest parts of her mind, forcing herself to accept that she was no longer wanted- no longer loved by the family she thought she’d found. She returned to her room for the rest of the night and for the first time since the initial weeks after arriving here on her first visit, cried herself to sleep.
The next time she interacted with any of the Avatars, it was Lucifer ordering her off to school telling her that she had better not be late and tarnish the good name Lord Diavolo and the exchange programme. Arella only nodded and promptly left the house, not even bothering to finish her morning cup of tea. The walk to school was lonely, Mammon had left earlier with Melissa and it was then, with a broken heart, Arella decided she would leave them all to their new toy. They wouldn’t bother her. They didn’t need her. At least she had Solomon and the angels, didn’t she? No, it didn’t seem to be the case either judging by the mass of unanswered texts.
As she entered class, Arella took her usual seat only hoping Mammon would choose to sit with her for once, would just choose her for once in general. But it wasn’t meant to be. Of course, it wouldn’t. Why would he bother to choose her when there was someone who was much better for him than her? Someone who wasn’t selfish or possessive or... or... worthless... She subtilty looked over her shoulder to watch as they cracked jokes and laughed together and she felt tears pool in her eyes- heart aching at the thought that she would never have that again and the sweet memories she’d made with the demon. The spot she once saved for him was now taken by another demon.
-------------------------------------------------
Two months more of this- it had been eleven since Melissa joined them. None of the brothers even looked Arella’s way anymore- often forgetting she lived in the house with them in the first place. When she tried to reach out to any of them it was Melissa needs this or Melissa and I are doing this, so she just stopped. She stopped eating, stopped taking care of herself save for basic hygiene needs. No one came to check on her. There were no texts, no calls, nothing. They’d gotten all they wanted out of her and now she was like a cast aside doll. She thought about reaching out to any of them but decided against it. They were demons and she was just an insignificant human. It's not like they actually cared and Arella was a fool for allowing herself to entertain the thought.
She should just go home. But where was home? The human world held nothing for her to return to. Sure, she had that degree in biochemical engineering to fall back on but after having a taste of true happiness, would she even enjoy a life doing that? Maybe she could just go back to her original plan. The plan she had made when she first signed on to the exchange programme. 23 years was certainly long enough to experience everything life had to offer, right? She always did tell herself if the year on the exchange programme didn’t work out, she’d end it all. The idea was sounding more and more appealing by the minute.
With her mind made up, Arella swung her legs over the side of the bed. A smile was painted on her face. Her cheeks stained with tears; emerald-green eyes bleary from all the crying she’d done over the past two months. No one would miss her. They left her- abandoned for the better human like she was an unwanted pet. What did she expect though? No one ever stayed. No one ever cared. No one ever loved her enough to begin with. She was always thrown away like the trash she was after her purpose was fulfilled.
With what little strength she could muster, Arella stood as she uttered a spell and a portal opened. She gladly stepped through it, finding herself in her childhood home as it closed- a place filled with nothing but suffering and pain for her. What a fitting place for her own painful end.
“Hello, Mum, Myles... I’m... home... Isn’t it lovely... that you were right after all? I’ll be with you... soon...”
-------------------------------------------------
Missing his call on her D.D.D. was the first thing that Mammon noticed. He knew he hadn’t been the best boyfriend ever since the new human arrived and the demon felt guilty for that. He’d put so much energy into helping Melissa get a date with his younger brother that he hadn’t realized how much time had actually passed- how it had been almost a year since he’d done literally anything with his girlfriend. She was probably pissed at him and rightfully so. Now that he had actually looked at his calendar, there had been so many planned dates and movie nights he had missed with her and all he wanted to do was make it up to her somehow. She probably thought he didn’t want her anymore which couldn’t have been further from the truth. He missed her- missed hanging out with her, missed the dumb jokes they would crack and the laughter that followed, missed the pranks they would play on Lucifer that often ended up with them strung up from the ceiling together. He missed the late-night cuddles and having her tucked up under his arm at night as he held her close. The bed they had once shared was considerably colder now that she was no longer there.
Mammon made his way down to her room. That was the only place she could be. Arella never left her room anymore. She always left for school earlier than anyone else too, choosing to skip breakfast outright, so Mammon couldn’t even catch her to talk then. He thought about reclaiming his seat next to his human but every morning he found her chatting up another demon that had taken his old seat. He often felt his possessiveness spike most during those times but did he even have the right to feel that way after neglecting her for the past eleven months?
As he drew closer to her room, he could see Beel knocking at her door, asking if she’d like to go visit that new café she had mentioned a couple weeks ago. When there was no answer, the Avatar of Gluttony would frown, unsure if she was just asleep or just actively ignoring him. That was the second sign something was wrong. No matter what happened, at the end of the day, Arella was always happy to entertain their whims.
“She’s not answerin’ ya, is she?” The second-born asks as the sixth-born shakes his head, looking like an abandoned puppy on the side of the road. “I’ll go in ‘n see if she’s awake. I have to talk to ‘er anyway.”
Beelzebub nodded as he left back to the kitchen- likely to eat his hurt feelings away. None of them really had the right to feel this way after they’d just ghosted their favorite human though. As he opened the door, Mammon stopped dead in his tracks. She wasn’t there, her phone lay on the bed lit up with missed texts from Asmo and Levi.
Immediately, he took off for Lucifer’s study. If anyone would know her whereabouts it would be Lucifer, right? The family patriarch had the uncanny ability to know exactly where every resident of the House of Lamentation was at any given time so long as they were still in the Devildom.
-------------------------------------------------
After considering her options, Arella was left indecisive. There were a number of ways she could end her own life. She wouldn’t lie, before the exchange programme she would fantasize about the many ways she could kill herself. Would it be by hanging like she found Myles? Or perhaps she could slit her wrists like her beloved mother. If the car in the garage still worked, carbon monoxide poisoning was a valid option too. There were sleeping pills up in the medicine cabinet- a large handful of those would definitely do the trick... Ah choices, choices. As she smiled to herself, the human wondered if any of the brothers had noticed she wasn’t in the house anymore. The chances were unlikely as they were all too busy with their new human but if they had, who was it?
Would it be Asmo, Levi, Belphegor? Surely, it wouldn’t have been Mammon. He’d long since moved on, probably enjoying the start of a new relationship with Melissa. It hurt that he couldn’t have been bothered to even break up with Arella in the first place. What happened to forever? Had it all been the honeyed words of a liar?
She shook her head. It was best not to think too much on it but she still couldn’t help it. Once she was gone- once their pact faded away- would he regret this? Would he regret losing the person who loved him so unconditionally that it was almost embarrassing?
With her mind made up, Arella grabbed a knife from one of the drawers in the kitchen and carried herself up to the master bedroom where she had found her mother four years prior. As she lie on the bed, she pressed the knife to her wrist deep enough to cause substantial bleeding. She drags the blade up her arm, watching as the crimson liquid gushed from the from the wound. She thinks it’s beautiful- a fitting end for a vile creature such as herself.
-------------------------------------------------
“Lucifer!”
“What, Mammon?” The eldest didn’t even bother to look up from the ever-growing stack of paperwork on his desk.
“Did Arella have plans tonight?” The Avatar of Greed asks as his brother finally looks up at him.
“Not that I’m aware of, but I also haven’t seen her all day. As her mate, you should know, shouldn’t you? As far as I’m aware, Arella hasn’t left the house and is still in her room probably practicing her mag-”
In that moment, both demons felt a sharp pain shoot up their arm as if someone had taken a knife and was drawing a line up the inside of their arm. The same pain was radiating from the places where their pact marks were located. Mammon clutched at his chest as he fell to his knees, the symbol representing his girlfriend radiating with pain that reached down to his heart. If the screams of the others were anything to go by, they felt the same thing.
“She’s not in her room!” The white-hair demon manages to gasp out. What scares him most is that he can feel their pact fading away.
Lucifer’s heart leapt up in his throat as the realization hit him. It wasn’t her practicing magic that he had sensed earlier, it was her casting a spell. She opened a portal to the human world and had gone through. He now realizes the mistake they’ve made as he remembers back to the confession she had made to him over a year ago one night when neither of them could sleep and opted for a late-night cup of tea. She had told him that he and his brothers had saved her life that first year during the exchange programme. That if things hadn’t worked out so well, she had planned to take her own life. Back then, he thought nothing much of it since the problem had resolved itself. But with how they had essentially pushed her aside in favor of Melissa, she would have felt unwanted bringing the suicidal thoughts back full force. They had to get to her and fast before it was too late.
Always fast on his feet the eldest, opens a portal of his own, knowing of only one place she would go to take her own life. Both brothers would hop through, landing in the dusty house with a thud. The smell hit them faster than either of them could process it. Blood. And a lot of it at that.
Mammon was the first to scramble for the stairs while Lucifer made a break for the phone, having forgotten his D.D.D. on his desk in the rush to get through the portal. The second-born knows the layout of Arella's house too well, having been here with her multiple times before this. Back in better times when she knew just how much he loved her. As the smell of fresh blood grows stronger, he finds her resting on the bed, a smile on her face as the knife lay between her body and the arm that was still slowly losing blood.
Faster than a flash of lightning, the demon tore his belt off and was on the bed immediately. He took her arm, fastening his belt around the upper part in a tourniquet to stop the blood flow. He shook her frantically, tears spilling down his face freely.
“Arella! Arella! C'mon, baby, wake up! Please!” His voice came out in a scream and he could only vaguely hear his brother speaking on the phone with emergency services. “We’re sorry! Don’t leave us! Don’t leave me!”
With every passing second, Mammon could feel her life slipping away through the pact that was still searing his heart. This was the price of his actions- of all their actions. Her blood was on his hands, literally. He should have done more. He should have been there. He could have called or texted or even just picked up the damn phone when she had called him, but instead just like the blood that had slipped from her arm, the Avatar of Greed let her slip through his fingers. She was gone and there was no bringing his human back this time like they had when Belphie threw her body down the stairs after he’d strangle her to death. He and his brothers had spent all that time protecting her from other demons but they couldn’t protect her from themselves.
Once the EMT’s got there, the demon stepped back from the blood-soaked bed in a state of shock- a state of disbelief. There was nothing they could do for her now. She had no pulse, no signs of life. He dropped to his knees unable to believe that his human was truly gone. His throat felt tight as more tears came. He was only just able to register the feeling of the Avatar of Pride’s embrace as they cried together- something they hadn’t done since the fall, since Lilith passed.
The two demons were informed that the coroner would arrive to collect her body shortly as they left the room. Slowly they got up, Mammon taking her body in his arms as he fought back the urge to sob. The pair returned to the House of Lamentation with Arella’s body in tow, cradled carefully in her mate’s arms. As they stepped through, they were met by their brothers and Melissa. Even the Angels, Solomon, and the Royals were there waiting.
“She’s gone,” The eldest’s voice cracked as a pained grimace formed on his face, more tears slipping down his face. Mammon couldn’t even lift his head to look them in the eyes as the crying, wailing, sobbing started.
“We didn’t deserve ‘er.” The second-born chokes on his tears, feeling utterly broken inside. “We did this to ‘er. All... All seven of us did this... She reached out to alla us ‘n we ignored ‘er.” He’s the angriest with himself.
The prince and his butler only watch on, tears in their eyes. Diavolo remembers all the good times they’ve had with Arella. The way she made the lives of the Avatars better, the fun she brought to the student council meetings, the beautiful light she’d brought to the Devildom. She’d made such an impact on the lives of all of these demons and angels. As selfish as it was, Diavolo didn’t want to let any of that go.
“Bring her back, Barbatos.” He orders and his loyal servant steps forward.
“Place her on the ground, Mammon.” Barbatos says calmly, almost as if he’s done this a thousand times and for some reason the Avatar of Greed obeys the order.
Once she’s on the ground, the green-haired demon pulls open her mouth and takes Mammon’s hand in his, producing a dagger and slicing the white-haired demon’s palm tipping it to side and allows the blood to drop into Arella’s mouth. As the crimson liquid flows down her throat, the effect is immediate- Arella's body convulsing violently before she gasps for breath as the gash along the inside of her arm heals.
Everyone- demons, angels, and humans alike- stare wide-eyed at the scene. Lucifer looks up to his longtime friend in disbelief. He had just...
“Let this teach you all a very painful lesson. I’ve given her life as a demon, do not take this chance for granted. You will not get it again. She needs rest for now, but in a day or two, Arella will reawaken.” The prince’s voice is stern as he peers down at the former human who would now become a very powerful demon. “Treat her right this time.”
It’s with that that Diavolo and Barbatos take their leave. The rest was up to the brothers now to care for her and right the wrongs they’ve made.
-------------------------------------------------
Next
The Bad Ending
Find more on my masterlist
265 notes · View notes
runningtwiceasfast · 3 years
Text
I’ve Never Not Wanted You
This is my contribution to the Hinny Ficfest organized by the wonderful @clarensjoy - Thank you for organizing and for the fantastic contributions. I haven’t published a fic in awhile and this one is very not proofread and rough but I wanted desperately to contribute something. I hope you don’t mind this one is under the wire! Eventually I will post a cleaned up version on AO3, but in the meantime I hope you enjoy!
Prompt: “I’ve never not wanted you”
“You have to come to dinner tonight. Mum has invited another suitor and we are all going to want to watch the bloodbath.” Ron’s mouth was full of curry, so it was hard to make out exactly what he meant, but the gist was an invite for dinner.
Harry scowled in response and pushed his food away from him, suddenly having lost his appetite.
“When will Molly stop? After Ginny has killed someone?”
Ron gave a barking laugh. “Maybe. It’s hard to stop a determined Weasley though.”
“So, who is more determined? Molly to marry Ginny off or Ginny to resist?” Harry wondered out loud, still staring at his noodles as if they had offended him.
Shrugging, Ron reached over and helped himself to Harry’s discarded lunch. “Mum just wants Ginny to be happy. Wizards marry pretty young in our world and everyone else has mostly coupled off,” Ron pointed his chopsticks at Harry. “Well, except you mate.”
Harry frowned.
“I’ve been busy,” he finally said, and Ron gave a series of nods.
“Of course. Ridding the world of unstoppable evil and what not. I’m sure that’s why Mum is focused on Ginny and not you.”
“That’s a bit of a double standard, isn’t it?” Harry asked, irritated at the way the conversation had changed. The last thing he wanted to talk about was his sorry dating life. Or Ginny’s for that matter.
“The entire wizarding world is a double standard innit? Best to just make the best to just make the best of it and enjoy the show.”
Harry merely gave a small noise of assent, turning back to his noodles to find them completely gone. He looked up at Ron’s sheepish look.
“I thought you were done.”
_*_*_*_*_*_*_
Avoiding the floo network entirely, Harry opted to apparate to the Burrow, pausing outside the familiar door to collect his thoughts.
Using his free hand, he smoothed down his shirt and jeans, his other hand grasping the bottle of red wine Arthur had mentioned he liked the last time they had dined together at Grimmauld Place. He rose his hand to knock, but the door swung open before his fist even made contact.
“Harry! You’ve come to save me!” Harry was rather unprepared for the sight of Ginny, fresh faced and beautiful, greeting him at the door and found himself unable to say much of anything other than a grumbled hello as he shoved the bottle of wine at her.
She was wearing a simple black cotton dress that hugged her waist and flared out at the bottom. Her hair was down and bouncing around her shoulders. He gestured stupidly at his ears.
“You are wearing the earrings.”
She gave a tinkling laugh and pushed her hair behind her ear so he could see more clearly the diamond studs that he had given her last Christmas. “I’ve practically never taken them off. They are gorgeous. Probably one of the best gifts I’ve ever gotten.” She smiled at him sincerely and he felt his heart rate accelerate uncomfortably.
“I’m glad you like them so much.” He smiled back at her and they remained that way, smiling at each other silently before Ginny was called rather abruptly from the other room.
She gave a grimace in response. “She’s invited Ernie Macmillan over can you believe it? Him and Hermione are currently fighting over some horribly boring historical fact in the other room and she expects me to marry this man?” She rolled her eyes and Harry gave a weak laugh in response.
Learning up, she gave him a light kiss on the cheek, her hand resting on his arm. “It’s so lovely to see you, Harry. Please feel free to rescue me from inane conversation as you see fit.”
She floated away and he stood there struck rather dumb for a few moments.
Following the trail of voices from the entryway, Harry entered the living area to various greetings. It appeared he was one of the last to arrive and he grabbed a butterbeer and joined in where Ron and George were huddled together by the fireplace.
“I think the formula is off. People shouldn’t be incapacitated. Just unconscious for a short while.”
George shook his head. “They are fine if you just poke them—Harry! You’ve come to join us!” George gave him a broad smile that Harry couldn’t help but reciprocate.
“Is this for something you’ve already invented, or you have created something else to wreak havoc on the wizarding public?”
“Harry my dear boy, I’m not sure why it can’t be both,” George said sincerely causing Harry to snort into his bottle.
Ginny’s laughter brought their attention to where she was standing in the center of the room with Ernie.
Ron frowned. “Maybe mum actually found a winner.”
They watched as Ginny laughed again at something Ernie said, her hand placed on his arm.
“Apparently he works with Percy. Probably in the Department of who has the biggest stick up their arse,” George laughed to himself.
Harry frowned as he watched Ernie with his patrician features and pedigree push a tendril of crimson hair behind Ginny’s ear causing her to blush.
“What did that bottle do to you mate?” Ron joked and Harry looked down at the tight grip he was maintaining on his butterbeer. He loosened his grip and stretched his fingers.
Molly’s appearance in the room quieted most conversations as she herded everyone into the dining area where amazing smells were wafting. It required gymnastics in order for everyone to get into the magically enhanced room.
“No no Ginny. Don’t sit there. Sit over here by Ernie,” Molly smiled warmly at the tall boy. Ernie smiled back in a way that made Harry’s hand flinch towards his wand, imagining all the new curses he had recently mastered in his second year auror training.
“Mum it took me straining my hop to even get a seat. I’m going to stay right here,” she turned to Harry who suddenly realized how close she was. “You are ok with that right Harry?” Her eyes widened slightly and he managed to cotton on.
“Er yes sorry Molly. Ginny is fine here.” She gave him a brilliant smile and nudged his shoulder with hers.
“I think I’ve lost some of my brain cells.” Harry had to resist flinching as he felt her breath brush his hair as Ginny leaned over and whispered to him.
He gave a tight-lipped smile. “You seemed rather fond of this one,” he whispered in return to her causing her to wave a hand at him dismissively.
“I’m just trying to be nice. If I hex this one she will just bring in someone worse. I heard Malfoy was keen,” she gave a dramatic shiver, her impish smile telling another story.
Harry felt a rush of relief he tried not to analyze. “Molly can keep on bringing by all the unsuitable young men of the English wizarding world if it means I get to sit next to you.” The words are soft and filled with way too much feeling and for one frightening heartbeat he wished he could take them back.
She remained silent, grabbing a dinner roll form the passed tray and fidgeting with it between her hands. “Harry, you shouldn’t say such things to me,” she finally said mildly, refusing to look at him. “I might start getting ideas.”
Impulsively he reached for one of her hands, forcing her to drop the bread. He pulled her hand under the table and squeezed it gently.
They sat with hands clasped under the table, but otherwise ignoring each other, answering direct questions but otherwise staying mostly silent. Harry thought he saw Ginny’s face was rather shiny and he wondered what he looked like. Probably pale white and sickly.
“Ginny, how goes the season? Should I be placing my Harpy’s bets now?” Ernie asked Ginny directly causing her to drop Harry’s hand and inhale shakily.
“Oh, I’m just reserve for now. But a bet on the Harpies is always a safe bet,” Ginny gave a wicked smile causing the table to collectively give a ruckus laugh.
“Ernie, you know Ginny is the youngest reserve chaser in the league,” Molly boasted, and Harry noticed Ginny resist rolling her eyes.
“Mum, I’m so glad you support my career choice now.” The words were biting but the soft look in her eyes made Harry think Ginny actually meant them.
Harry stole a look at Justin. To his disgust the boy was looking at Ginny rather starry eyed. It isn’t like Harry could blame him; a similar look frequently graced his own face.
He was rather sick of it all though. The constant parade of unworthy men being thrust at Ginny.
The rather petulant thought that Molly had never asked him to be one of those unworthy men flew through his brain unhelpfully. Perhaps everyone had given up on the possibility of him and Ginny ever making it work.
They had made it work though. For a few blissful months they had been something new and delicate and untouchable. Frequently Harry thought back to some of those times. Of walks around the school, hands clasped and of breathless goodbyes leaving them both wanting and late for class.
Ever since the war Harry had been trying to pick up the pieces, but it had been hard and often he had found himself rather aimless. Without even realizing it, he had found that he had pulled back on all the ties that bound him-rarely coming by the Burrow, never seeing friends other than around the office and busying himself with work and tracking down rogue Death Eaters.
He had finally looked up and while he had stayed in the same spot, everyone else had moved on. Ron had ditched the aurors and found his calling with George in the joke shop. Hermione had proven herself immensely capable apart from him in the Department of Magical Law Enforcement.
And Ginny had graduated from Hogwarts and immediately absconded to Harpy training camp.
Unfortunately, in all his chosen one lessons with Dumbledore, the wise wizard had never told him what happens after the bad guy has been slain. What happens to the chosen one when he’s done being chosen?
In this instance it seemed as if Harry was doomed to sit there and watch as everyone he loved moved on without him. Bitterly he looked down at the roast on his plate, moving the discarded pees around with his fork.
“You gonna finish that?” Harry looked up to find he was almost done at the table, Ron leaning over him, fork in hand.
Scowling, Harry pushed his plate towards Ron who tucked in happily. “Ernie left a bit ago,” Ron said, in between bites. Harry’s eyes snapped up at that.
“Why would I care whether or not Ernie had left?” Harry snarked at him, frowning when Ron paused his eating to give Harry a knowing look.
“Either way, Ginny is in the backyard if you want to talk to her,” Ron scooped up some mashed potatoes. “Or not.” He shrugged.
Harry pushed away from the table and paused in front of the living room. He could hear the rest of the Weasley’s making their normal noises and he hesitated before joining, his eyes straying to the backyard where Ron had said Ginny was.
Whatever gravitational pull Ginny had made the decision for him as Harry turned and slipped out the door.
She was silhouetted against the starry sky, the light of the moon reflecting off her hair in a way that made his throat dry. He approached her slowly and she turned at his footsteps, giving him a warm smile.
“I came out to get some fresh air,” she told him unnecessarily and he plopped down next to her, his arm brushing hers. “These family gatherings can be a lot,” she said, her voice so quiet he could barely hear her, but that’s probably more to do with the quick sound of his heartbeat in his ears.
Feeling that same impulsive urge he had felt during dinner that let him hold her hand, he lifted his arm up and over her shoulders. They both froze at the contact, but before he could regret it, she leaned in, setting her head on his shoulder.
“Where did Ernie go?” Harry asked eventually, that familiar monster roaring in his chest.
Ginny leaned even further into his side. “He got an owl, had to go into the office.” Her hair brushed against his neck and he caught a whiff of her comforting flower scent that hadn’t changed since sixth year.
“Did you want him to stay?” He asked her, the darkness giving him some sort of courage.
She shook her head. “Not really. He wasn’t as bad as the other’s, but he’s not really who I want,” she said, voice low and husky.
Finally, she sighed deeply and pulled away, pulling her knees under the skirt of her dress and into her stomach.
“At least he seemed to want me,” she mumbled, and Harry took a deep breath, tired of always waiting for the right moment.
“I’ve never not wanted you, Ginny.”
Amazingly, the words didn’t sound weak or pathetic out loud like they did in his head. Instead, all he felt was relief.
The sound of a sharp intake of breath was the only indication that he had been heard. Summoning his Gryffindor courage, he looked up at Ginny. She was staring at him, eyes wide.
“You want me?” She asked finally, incredulously.
He ran a hand through his hair nervously. “Watching your mum parade those boys in front of you has been a special kind of hell for me Gin. I miss you.” They aren’t the most eloquent words, but they are the ones he had.
“Then why didn’t you say anything, you stupid arse?” Ginny finally spit out and Harry let out a choke of laughter.
“I’m an idiot?” He told her helpfully and she shook her head, a fond smile on her face.
“Can you come closer Harry? I need to smack you,” she laughed, and Harry obliged, scooting back towards her until there was no space between them, his body tingling in anticipation.
“So no more set ups from your mum?” He asked, moving his face toward hers so close he could feel each breath she took, could count the freckles on her face from just the soft light of the stars.
“Harry I can confidently tell you I will no longer let my mum dictate my romantic life from here on out,” she giggled and Harry fought the smile that threatened to climb up his cheeks.
“Harry,” she said, drawing his attention back to her and her lips.
“Yes?”
“I’ve never not wanted you to kiss me,” she said before closing the small gap between them, her soft, sweet lips under his. Suddenly all the pining and scowling became worth it as he rolled them over, her body under his, molding to each other as if reminding him that they’ve done this before.
As he kissed and kissed her, lips trailing down her neck, he sent a silent thank you to whatever work emergency had claimed Ernie’s attention. Tonight and forever Ginny was his. And he set about showing her over and over.
_*_*_*_*_*_*_
“Ernie Macmillan? Really?” Ron took a noisy bite of his biscuit.
“I don’t know what you are talking about, Ronald,” Molly tutted, waiving her wand so the corresponding feather duster would wipe down the windows properly.
“I just want you to know that I know what you did,” Ron shrugged, gesturing out the window Molly was cleaning to where Harry and Ginny were clearly engaged in some unwholesome activities.
Molly smiled at the image the pair made before closing the curtain and turning back towards her youngest son.
“Don’t you have your own home?” He lifted his hands in surrender before leaving the room. Molly watched as he disappeared from view. Really, what was she supposed to do? Let them pine away for each other forever? No, she did the right thing. She did feel a little bad poor Ernie would have to go all the way into work to find that emergency cauldron bottom situation wasn’t quite the emergency that ministry owl had made it seem. But the boy had gotten a home cooked meal for dinner so he surely made out alright.
Smiling one more time to herself, a very satisfied Molly Weasley set about cleaning dishes, brainstorming how she might next get Percy to dinner along with that nice young man Oliver Wood.
137 notes · View notes
thejilyship · 3 years
Note
jily + roommates + drunk calling
I actually didn’t procrastinate. I finished up the scene that I was working on in my original novel before I wrote this. And now i have this cute Jily one shot, and a completely draft of my novel. How fudging weird is that?
Thanks for the prompt! 
Lily had gone back to her parents house for the weekend.  
And it’s weird that she’s not there. It’s weird that the day has come and gone and she’s not back in the flat by now. He knows that she’s not coming back tonight, that she won’t be back until Sunday evening, but it’s weird and he doesn’t like it. 
They’d been living together, her, Sirius, and himself, for about three months now, since the semester had started and he’d gotten very used to her being around every day. 
He had done absolutely nothing about the fact that he fancied her in that time. 
But they were roommates, so he couldn’t tell her. How weird would it be if he told her, and then she inevitably laughed at him and told him that she did not feel the same way? Then what? He’d have to remind her to add milk to the shopping list and hand her her mail like he hadn’t made a fool of himself?
Nope. 
So he kept it to himself. 
Sirius was out tonight too, after hounding James that he should at least downloading a dating app if he was going to sit around sulk over a girl he was too much a of a prat to ask out on a date. 
James had tried to tell him that doing homework was not the same as sulking. 
Sirius reminded him that it sort of was when it was Friday night.
James had no argument for that and stayed quiet. 
He was making good progress on his stats work though, and he wasn’t sulking. 
He missed her, and that was worse than sulking. 
He thought about texting her. He got out his phone and clicked on her name in his messages and tried to come up with something to say that wouldn’t make him look as dumb as he felt. 
And then her name appeared across his phone in different font, bigger. He narrowed his brow, wondering if he had accidentally called her some how. He almost hung up. 
But he hadn’t called her. 
She was calling him. 
“Lily?” He answered the phone almost hesitantly. 
“James!” Her response was chipper. “James, I was hoping you would answer.” 
“Of course,” He paused. She had never called him before. “Are you okay? Do you need help?” 
“I’m fine, I’m fine,” Lily sighed. “I should have facetimed you, you can’t see me rolling my eyes at you when we talk like this.” 
“I know what it looks like,” He said, the corner of his mouth tugging up. “Well, if you’re fine, then why did you call?”
“Are you busy? Am I interrupting something?” She didn’t answer his question. 
“No, I’m just doing some homework.”
“Why?”
“Now you sound like Sirius.” 
“I called because I wanted to talk to you.” He could hear the shrug that went along with that. 
“About what?”
“I don’t know,” She sighed again. “Anything? I’m a little drunk right now and if I go back downstairs, I’ll probably start a row with my sister. I figured I should call you. You always make me smile, and smiling Lily doesn’t start rows with her sister.” 
There was a lot to unpack there. 
His racing heart was doing quick work to unpack bits and pieces. 
“So, you drunk dialed me?” He asked, picking up his pencil and twirling it through his fingers. 
“Sort of.” Lily laughed and he smiled because she’d called him because he knew how to do that, how to make her laugh and smile. She had been upset about something and she’d called him. 
“Good,” He said, and he stopped twirling the pencil and clutched it in his fist. “I’m glad you called me.” 
“Yeah?” 
“Yeah. I was starting to miss you.”
“I left yesterday. It took you this long to start missing me?” 
“No.” James grinned. “I started missing you right after you left, of course I did.” He was joking, but he wasn’t. 
“Good.” She said, “Because I miss you too. I should have asked you to come with me.” 
They were both quiet after that. 
James started tapping the pencil against the table. Perhaps he shouldn’t be so worried about telling her how he felt about her. “Do you want me to drive up there now?” 
“Yes,” Lily said, and she didn’t hesitate at all. James’ heart was in his throat. “But don’t. I’m gonna come back tomorrow instead of Sunday. Just finish your homework so that we can hangout when I get back.” 
James sat up, leaning over the table now. “It’s what? An hour to your mum’s house? I have a car and I know how it works for the most part. Send me her address. I’ll fight Petunia for you and then you won’t have to take the bus.” 
She laughed. 
“I mean it,” He said. “Well, most of it. I won’t fight your sister, but I’ll come up there.” He stood up, letting the pencil go and walking toward the door. “I’m already getting my shoes on.” 
She was quiet now as he pressed the phone between his ear and his shoulder. 
“Lily?” 
“Are you really going to come?” Her voice was quiet, different than it had been before. 
“Of course I am.” He reached for his coat and his keys. He was pretty sure he had a nearly full tank of gas. 
“You’re gonna make me cry.” 
“Well, don’t do that. You called me to make you smile.” 
She laughed again, but it sounded as though she might have been crying as well. “I’m still smiling. Thank you, James.” 
He locked the door behind him and then turned to take the stairs down to the ground floor. “No one needs to do homework on  Friday anyway. You’re doing me a favor really.”
“No I’m not.” 
“Yes, you are. I almost had to go without seeing you for another night. Now I get to see you in an hour.” And he knew that he was being obvious now, he knew that he was saying a whole lot more than he’d let himself say before. 
“I should call you when I’m drunk more often.” 
James laughed. “I don’t disagree with you, Lily.” 
203 notes · View notes
dlwritings · 4 years
Text
Not Prick | Tom Holland
masterlist found here
pairing - Tom x reader word count - 1,877 warnings - language A/N - for the anon who requested x
summary - A fan gets a little aggressive with Tom at the mall, and he takes it out on the wrong person. But he’s a good guy, and when he realizes his mistake, he’s determined to make up for it.
Tumblr media
Tom was having a bad day. There was no rhyme or reason. He was just cranky and tired and wanted to be home. Instead, he was out at the mall with Harrison. Apparently his favorite store was having a sale, and Harrison wanted a new pair of shoes.
“Why don’t you just order them online?” Tom had asked as Harrison all but dragged him out of his apartment.
“I gotta try them on and make sure they look good,” the other argued. Tom rolled his eyes but agreed to go. Now, they were out, and Tom was regretting it.
By the time they got out of the store, they had been spotted by a bunch of fans. And Tom, being the nice guy he was, knew he had to stop and talk to them. He wasn’t going to be the guy who brushes off fans and looks ungrateful. So he painted on his camera-ready smile and chatted with the people in the crowd.
It didn’t take long for Tom to get a pounding headache. There were a lot of factors, he was sure. He was tired, he was cranky, and there were just way too many people around. Tom didn’t usually get anxiety attacks, but when he already wasn’t on his A-game, they kind of snuck up on him. Like now. He looked over at Harrison -who had fans of his own to meet- and locked eyes with him. Harrison could read the stress in his best friend’s eyes and started to try to come up with a way out of the situation.
“Alright, alright,” Harrison said with a light chuckle. “Tom and I have gotta head out. It was so lovely meeting you all.”
A few people whined and tried to protest, but Tom and Harrison just awkwardly laughed it off.
“What a dick,” Tom heard someone say. “We built his career, and he can’t even have the decency to stay for a picture?” She scoffed. “I swear, some celebrities have the biggest fucking egos. Ungrateful prick.”
Tom. Snapped.
He turned around and locked eyes with the girl who had spoken.
Only it wasn’t the girl who had spoken.
Your eyes grew wide when Tom stared at you, anger clear in his brown eyes. “I don’t have any obligation to stand here and talk to you,” he said. “I’m not ungrateful. I’m tired. I’m overwhelmed. I don’t always love leaving my house and getting followed by crowds of people. It’s not normal. I didn’t ask for this. So don’t say shit like I have a big ego when you can’t even begin to imagine what I go through when I step out my front door, alright?”
Tears came to your eyes immediately, and you had no idea what to say. The girl next to you -the one who had actually made the rude comments- was slowly backing away, afraid you would speak up in your defense. Instead, you just opened and closed your mouth a few times, then swallowed thickly. “I’m sorry,” you choked out. Tom just scoffed and rolled his eyes, and you turned and pushed your way past the crowd and to the nearest bathroom.
Your hands were shaking as you found a single-stall bathroom and locked it behind you, sinking to the floor and leaning your back against the door. You didn’t care that you were sitting on the floor of a mall bathroom. If you stood up for too much longer, you were afraid your legs would give out.
Shit, shit, not right now. Not like this. Not here. Not. Here.
You didn’t handle confrontation well. In fact, it was the number one trigger of your panic attacks. The first panic attack you ever remembered having was triggered by two boys from your high school getting in a screaming match in front of you. Their raised voices and angry eyes shook you, and you started crying. On the plus side, your anxiety attack stopped the boys from fighting because everyone was suddenly focusing on getting you to calm down and catch your breath.
So yeah. Confrontation of any kind was not your favorite.
You pulled your knees up to your chest and tried to focus on your breathing, but it was hard. You kept replaying the moment that had just happened in your head. Tom Holland -a legit famous person- just yelled at you in front of a crowd of people for something you didn’t even do. How many people filmed it? Was your favorite celebrity going to remember you as the bitch who called him an ungrateful dick? You weren’t the bitch who called him an ungrateful dick. Why couldn’t you just defend yourself? Why did you have to shut down like that?
Breathe, breathe. Don’t do this. Don’t. Do. This.
Harrison ushered Tom away from the group of fans, noticing his fists clench in anger as he watched the girl run off. “Wait, wait, Tom! Harrison!”
“Oh, for fuck’s sake,” Harrison mumbled. He turned to find a girl jogging after them. “Listen, we really-”
“No, I know, I know,” she said. “I just, that girl you yelled at?” She was looking at Tom. “She wasn’t the one who said that stuff.”
Guilt settled in Tom’s stomach. “What?” he said.
“I saw the girl who actually said that,” she said. “It wasn’t that girl. I don’t know either of them, but I just thought I should let you know. She seemed pretty shaken up, and I just-” She paused. “I’m not trying to make you feel bad or anything. I just didn’t want you thinking the wrong girl was being a bitch. It, it-” She stuttered, feeling foolish suddenly. “This probably doesn’t matter at all, and I should’ve just-”
“Did you see where she went?”
The girl furrowed her eyebrows at Tom’s question. “What?” she asked.
“The girl,” he said. “The one I yelled at? Did you see where she ran off to?”
“Uh, the bathroom I think,” she said. “The single stall down by Topman.”
Without any explanation, Tom jogged off in the direction of the bathroom in question. He heard Harrison calling after him, but he didn’t stop or turn around. When he got to the bathroom, he paused, his fist inches from the door. Was this necessary?
Yes. Mum raised a gentleman. You were a prick, and you need to own up to it.
You sat up a little straighter when there was a knock at the bathroom door. “Just a minute!” you called. You stood up and quickly went to the mirror to clean any mascara that might’ve slid down your cheeks. You flushed the toilet and pretended to wash your hands for good measure, then opened the door.
On the other side was none other than Tom Holland.
You felt a lump grow in your throat again as you hung your head and tried to brush past him. “Sorry,” you mumbled.
“Wait, wait,” he said, reaching out to grab your forearm. You stopped and looked at him. He looked stressed, and his eyes were sad. He looked like a completely different person from the man who yelled at you ten minutes ago. “I’m sorry,” he said, releasing his hold on your arm. “Someone told me you weren’t the one who said those things.” You pressed your lips into a tight line and looked down at your shoes. “Even if you were,” Tom continued, “I shouldn’t have snapped like that. I was out of line. I don’t usually snap like that. I’m sorry.”
“It’s fine,” you said, though your eyes were still trained on the floor.
Clearly, it wasn’t fine. Tom wasn’t dumb. He could see your slightly puffy eyes and the remains of mascara on your cheeks that you hadn’t quite been able to wipe away. He had done that, and that wasn’t okay. What had gotten into him?
“Do you like smoothies?”
This caused you to look up. “What?” you asked, your eyebrows furrowed.
“Do you like smoothies?” he repeated. “Harrison and I were going to grab some on our way home. Let me buy you one.”
“You don’t have to do that,” you said quickly, shaking your head.
“I want to,” he said. “Consider it an extended apology. And maybe proof that I’m not a prick.” A small smile crept up your lips, and the sight made Tom do the same.
“Okay,” you said. “That sounds nice.”
Tom nodded happily, and the two of you walked back over to where Harrison was standing and waiting. “So what’s your name?” Tom asked as the three of you walked to the parking garage.
“(Y/N),” you said.
“Well it’s nice to meet you,” he said.
You smiled. “You too.”
Tom bought you a smoothie and invited you to stay and hang out with him and Harrison. Of course, you obliged. The three of you sat on the patio of the smoothie shop and had your drinks, chatting and laughing like old friends. They were both really easy to talk to, and you were quickly forgetting about the whole ordeal at the mall. Tom clearly felt horribly, and you knew it was all just a misunderstanding. Plus, everyone was allowed to have bad days. Even celebrities. You couldn’t count the number of times you snapped at your friends or family because you were in a bad mood.
When you finished with your drinks, the boys offered to drive you home. You accepted, considering you had taken the bus to the mall. Maybe you were being naive, taking a ride from two boys you didn’t know, but you highly doubted you were going to get kidnapped by Tom Holland and Harrison Osterfield. Again, maybe you were being naive.
But you gave them directions to your apartment, and you arrived unscathed. “Let me walk you to your door,” Tom said.
“Okay,” you said. You smiled at Harrison. “It was nice to meet you.”
“You too,” he said back. Tom walked you to your door with his hands shoved in his pockets.
“So,” he said, “I just want to apologize again for what I said.”
“It’s really not a big deal,” you said. “I understand. You’re allowed the occasional bad day. And to be fair, what that girl said was really rude. I get why you-”
Tom cut you off by placing a sweet kiss to your cheek.
You blushed and put your hand where his lips had been. “What was that for?” you asked with a shy smile. Tom held back a smile of his own and shrugged.
“I just think you’re sweet,” he said. “And I liked spending the afternoon with you.”
You laughed lightly. “I liked spending the afternoon with you, too.”
“Could I get your number maybe?” he asked, rubbing the back of his neck.
“Yeah,” you said. “That’s okay.”
You switched phones and exchanged numbers. When he handed yours back to you, you laughed at the name he put: Not Prick
“You think you’ll remember that’s me?” he asked as you slid the phone in your pocket.
You nodded. “Impossible for me to forget.”
He chuckled, rubbing the back of his neck again. “I’ll text you, then.”
“Okay,” you said. “Thanks again for the smoothie.”
“Of course,” he said. “Maybe next time it’ll be dinner.”
----- ----- ----- -----
add yourself to my TAGLIST
@bangtan-serendipity | @planetdemon | @the-singing-clown406 | @tomshufflepuff | @bluelalal | @grandloser | @jackiehollanderr | @mindset-jupiter | @bisexual-sk8r | @feel-like-gold | @runaway-apple | @miraclesoflove | @marvelismylifffe| @wonderbyers | @coraz0ndcristal| @lizmarvel | @delicately-important-trash | @superhoorny4daddy​ | @hannihannelora | @lbuck121 | @quaksonhehe | @onepackfrombroke
441 notes · View notes
Note
I'd like to see how you think Vinca would admit she has feelings for MC, as if she couldn't take it anymore and admits to being in love with her.
“So you didn’t come to nag at me? At all? You’re just… just going to sit there? Silent?”
As she had done for the past hour, Vinca thoroughly ignored you. Never mind the fact that this was your shop, during your shift. You had gotten accustomed to Vinca hanging out here, to her snark and jokes and intense gaze, but today she was…
Weird.
“I like this silence,” you muse, tinkering with the price tags on some of the bikes. “I feel like I can actually think, for once. It’s amazing what not being insulted every second does for your humor. Didn’t think I’d ever feel peace with you on the same room.”
The silence stretched, thick. It irks you, makes you shift uncomfortably.
“Then again, having you like this is just so weird. Did something happen? Something must have happened. Was it Laz again? What did he do?”
You turn your head just slightly. Vinca jerks her head to the side, blue eyes as hard as little diamonds, staring into the door so hard you’re afraid it’ll burst into flames.
Did you just catch Vinca staring at you…?
“Okey, what’s up? You’re creeping me out.”
Vinca was the sort of person to run you over with her opinion or thoughts, never afraid of the consequences, her pride a stubborn shield. It didn’t make sense for her to hesitate, to keep silent.
“If you don’t tell-”
The bell jingles. You sigh, standing up, going to greet the costumers. It’s a little boy, vibrating in place, eyes darting around everything offered in the store. His mother walks in a moment later, giving you a small, apologetic smile.
As you help the boy decide what bike he likes the most, your gaze wanders towards Vinca again, catching how fast her gaze drops towards her phone.
You’re so kicking her out for creeping you out later. Once you finish your shift, you might coax what’s troubling her so much with some ice cream and that movie she likes.
“Will I faster than mum’s car with this, miss?”
You blink down, a delighted smile spreading over your face. “What?” You giggle, crouching, too focused on the little kid to notice how Vinca reacts to the sound, eyes snapping towards you, wide with wonder. “Oh, I don’t know. How fast are you?”
He puffs out his chest. “Faster than The Flash!”
His mother gets this blank expression, probably recalling some sort of accident. You recognize it well enough – it’s the same expression your mom always gets when she talks about the pot incident you had had when you were small.
The next few minutes are spent lightly teasing the boy, his mom admonishing him from running around so much, and a successful purchase moments later.
“Remember to drive safe!” You shout, just before the door closes.
“He’ll probably crash,” Vinca huffs, somewhere behind you.
“Oh, so now you’re talking?”
When you turn, your first thought is that Vinca probably is sick and that’s why she has been acting so weird. After all, how else would you explain the red tinting her cheeks, spreading down her neck?
She’s a full-body blusher, huh, you muse, momentarily distracted.
Hold on… full-body… Blush? Wait, Vinca is blushing?
“Is everything-”
“You’re- You’re good with kids.” She interrupts, gaze wandering.
“Not really, he was just…” Your eyes narrow, catching the way she’s moving. Slow. Uncertain. “Don’t change the topic. Why are you-”
“Shut up for one second, okay?” She snaps, back to her usual self. You blink, confused but not startled, used to her abrupt change in humor. “I just.” A pause. Her eyes flick towards you, and she takes a deep breath. “Let’s go somewhere else.”
“I’m in the middle of my shift-”
One snap of her fingers, and a demon materializes near the counter, expressionless.
“You have to be kidding-”
Her hand snaps towards your arm, claiming it in a vice-like grip. Vinca proceeds to drag you out of the store and into her car, occasionally adjusting her grip and making it gentler, and you only sigh and follow her, deciding do keep silent for now.
Seems like we’re getting that ice cream a bit sooner.
Curiously, Vinca doesn’t head to that ice cream parlor you usually frequent, choosing instead to lead you out of town. The place she wants to go instantly clicks in your mind, memories of a fight – the fight where you had first learned of demons’ existence – flashing behind your eyes.
“Are you going to perform another ritual?”
“No.” Vinca says, dryly. “I would never do something to hurt you.” There’s a pause, but you don’t make any comments. You can tell she’s not quite done talking. “When… when I did it the first time… the ritual, I mean. And it- when it didn’t work out, and you got hurt – cursed with being Dorran’s vessel, I felt so… miserable. I’m not any better than him. Considering how I acted, and all.”
“Hey, you helped me get exorcised. That must count for something.”
“I could have done it sooner.” She huffs. You can see her eyes darken, lost in memory
You shrug. “You were desperate, back then. And you’ve changed a lot. You actually care about me now, for one.”
Her lips thin. “Yes.”
That makes your thoughts skid into a stop. You expected her to huff, glare at you, and say something similar to ‘don’t let it get to your head, pipsqueak, you aren’t that important’.
But Vinca doesn’t look like she’s going to add anything of the sort, so you just stare at her, mouth agape.
“Did you just admit you care about me?”
You see her take a deep breath, feel how her grip tightens against the steering wheel. Her gaze is locked on the road, resolute. “Is that too hard to believe?”
You begin to say yes only to clam up when you detect the edge on her voice. “I’m just… surprised. You don’t usually admit how you, uh, how…”
“That’s going to change, starting now.” She says, guiding the car to a gentle stop near the abandoned factory where everything had transpired. She motions at you to get out of the car and heads inside at a brisk pace. You fumble with your seatbelt and hurry to follow.
The shadows loom, threateningly. Your gaze is drawn towards the center of the room, the traces of a circle barely visible. “I’m listening, then. To everything you have to say.”
You join her, sitting just a few meters near the entrance, backs against some boxes left there a lifetime ago. Vinca closes her eyes and sighs, deeply, and you only watch her. Watch the arch of her back, the knives on her dress glinting against the pale beams of light that manage to sneak through the windows.
“Just a heads up, but I didn’t expect this.” She finally says, after minutes of silence. “I thought I had better tastes.”
“In… what? Abandoned factories?”
“No, in- agh, just listen. I used to think you were someone I’d enjoy breaking, you know? In the show.”
“Oh yeah, I remember all your challenges.”
“But you turned out to be tougher than you look. And smarter, too, even if you sometimes make dumb decisions. Like following me to an abandoned factory minutes before a ritual.”
“I didn’t know you were going to-! But okey, yeah, fair point. It was a bit stupid. I should have called the cops on you.”
“Right, well. And then you powered through Dorran’s manipulation – I have to hand it to you, that was pretty badass. And throughout it all, you’ve… I used to think you were after me because you wanted an adventure. I mean, I’m hot, I’m rich. What more is there to love? But-” She throws you significant glare when she sees your mouth open, and you obediently close it so she can continue, “I understand now that it was never about the adventure. You just… wanted to get to know me. Not Pride, just me. Not the woman involved with demons, and not the woman involved with ghosts. You just wanted me, as I am, imperfect. And you never… you were never pushy about it. I could see it in your eyes, how you were connecting the dots about everything, but you never used it against me.”
“I never would have,” you mutter, gently. Vinca’s breath comes out in quick puffs of air. She’s visibly nervous, twirling one of her tiny knives between her fingers, her blush beginning to spread over her chest.
“You… somehow, you… I’ve felt it before, you know. Flings. Something destined to shatter when the other person can’t put up with me anymore, but with you, it’s… it’s different. I don’t feel like it will shatter. You keep me on my toes but I never feel like I will fall. You make me feel alive when all I want is to hide myself from everything. Somehow, I…I’ve come to love you. I’m honestly impressed, pipsqueak. I really thought I had better tastes.”
“What can I say?” You shrug, trying to be smooth but failing because your heart is thundering against your ears, your voice too soft out of the sheer wonder you are feeling right now. “Doing the unexpected is my passion.”
“You are too damn dorky.” Vinca hisses, turning her head just slightly. “I am ashamed of myself for loving- for falling in love with someone like you.”
You reach for her, and she lets you guide her so your eyes meet, sparkling blue against warm chocolate. You inch a bit closer, feeling her warmth envelop you. “Didn’t you just say I’m impressive?”
“I’m taking it back.”
“No can do, Wren. You fell in love with me despite, or should I say because, of my dorkiness. I’d say your bitchiness and my dorkiness complement each other quite nicely.”
Vinca groans. You can feel the vibrations of her voice travel down your hand, making you smirk even more, leaning closer, closer-
“Why did it have to be you?” She laments, but closes the distance despite it all, her movements intense and sure and glad. You can feel the heat of her skin, of her blush, pressed against yours as she quickly takes control of the kiss, pushing you backwards, curling herself around you.
Happiness surges inside of you. You smile into the kiss, melting against her.
You’ve both come a long way. This place, gray with memories of a fight, quickly takes on another meaning. One of acceptance, of overcoming challenges that kept both of you rooted into the past. With Vinca, you feel like you can finally leave it all behind.
68 notes · View notes
miyaniacs · 3 years
Text
Exchange - Miya Atsumu & Osamu  SMAU
ROUTE: OSAMU
not a random girl
Tumblr media
smau masterlist  / masterlist / previous
a/n: welcome to the emotional rollercoaster and the pep talk I always give myself ✌🏼
Tumblr media
Starring at your messages you reread your last conversation with him, tears streaming down your face.
 How could you be so blind? So stupid? How could you actually believe he’d choose you over her?
The whole week there was neither a call or message from him. He wasn’t at one of his classes too.
Your friends asked if you knew where he was, but as petty as you are - you just shrugged. You didn’t dare to tell them what you saw, you didn’t want it to be true. Because... there is no way he‘d switch you for some random girl. Osamu isn’t that type of man, he wasn’t a player. 
So you kept up a smile on your face - it’s Osamu, you kept on reminding yourself, he would never just forget you.
The smile was up for about three days, until Atsumu grabbed your arm and dragged you out of the campus after your classes.
“Atsumu? - What are you doing?” You ask him confused. The two of you haven’t talked that much the past days, it still hurt him, knowing that you’ll never be his. But now? After he saw her again - he knew the tables have turned and now he has to put his emotions aside and focus on being your friend.
Atsumu didn’t answer you, instead he kept on dragging you away, away from other people until he stopped at a bench, away from all the others.
He sits down and pats the spot next to him, signaling you to sit down.
He stayed silent. Was he really going to be the one again to break your heart?
“So... you see... uhm-“ he stutters. How should he tell you?
“Yes?” You ask him, actually confused of what is up with him.
“There’s this girl..”
Oh.
“I saw them.” You tell him, the memories from that day coming back all at once.
“Oh. Uhm... “ he again, doesn’t know what to say.
“Who is she? Please Atsumu be honest now.” You say and look directly at him.
“Her name is Emma. We know her since we’ve been children. The three of us have been inseparable. We did everything together, shared all of our secrets, had sleepovers almost every day you name it. But her and Osamu... they always had a special connection. So at some point - they realized that it was love and they got into a relationship with their ... what did she call him ... oh - their other half. For real we all thought they’d marry right after Highschool...” he mumbles the last part and stares at the ground. You don’t say anything, your throat being so tight it already hurts to breath.
“But then... out of nowhere she and her family moved away. Osamu was heartbroken - I’ve never seen him that sad before. Even though they tried to make it work... but eventually they realized there was no way they can still be in that relationship and be happy. They needed each other yes. But they really needed each other ... like ... in a physical way, I swear there was no second they haven’t had their hands on each other. It was disgusting honestly. And I was so jealous, jealous of him finding the one.”, he sighs, “ They we’re sure it was meant to be. To be honest we all knew it was. So they made a promise. And that promise helped Osamu through that time. They promised to wait until they meet again.“
“And what happens then?” You choke out.
Atsumu looks at you, hesitating to answer you.
“Atsumu. Please.” You whisper.
“Originally they planned to get back together and continue what they had...” he mumbles.
The hope you had, is now completely gone.
You saw the way he looked at her.
Non of his feelings flew away over time.
Not in the slightest.
Getting up you started walking, Atsumu hurried behind you, trying to catch up. “No.” You whisper as he catches up with you.
“But Y/n.” He begs, yet you shake your head. You just wanted to be alone now.
That night you cried yourself to sleep again, ignoring all the knocks on your door and calls and messages from your favorite chaotic trio you, also known as your roommates.
Then after two weeks of having no contact to Osamu, he messaged you.
Only nine words.
Nine words were needed to fully destroy your heart.
She wasn't a random girl and you’re now fully aware of it. 
“I am so sorry, but I still love her.”
So why are so stupid? You could have imagine something like that happening. It was only a matter of time until he realized just how fucked up you really been and how much better he can do. You really hoped that with his help, you can get over everything that happened and to be able to trust again. yet you’ve made the same mistake as always. You linked your own happiness and well-being to a guy.
Leaving your phone in your room, you walk downstairs, your blanket. Still wrapped around you. Your vision is blurry - it’s a wonder how you’ve managed to walk down the stairs without slipping.
The second Bokuto hears you walking down the stairs he jumps up and hurries over to you. Kuroo is already in the kitchen preparing a tea and Kenma is lining up all the snacks they’ve brought just for this moment.
As soon as you reach the end of the stairs, two strong arms pick you up bridal style and carry you over to the sofa. With you still in his arms, Bokuto sits down and nuzzles his face in you hair. Kenma sits down and places his hand on your knee: “Y/N... you’re ready now?” He asks softly and looks at you with his big eyes.
“The tea IS ready” Kuroo says and holds a big cup in front of your face.
“I don’t want any...” you mumble.
“Yes you do! This is a special tea I remember my mum making me whenever I felt sad.” He huffs and with a sigh, you take the cup out of his hands. Carefully you take a small sip of the still hot tea. You can’t make out the ingredients, yet you’re immediately filled with a warm feeling that feel like home.
“Thank you Kuroo...” you mumble and a small smile form on your lips. Kuroo simply pats your head and sits down on a cushion in front of the three of you.
They all look at you with expecting eyes.
You open your mouth and close it again. Taking a sip of the tea you try to speak up again, but you just can’t find the right words. Everything you think of feels wrong. It feels so wrong to sit here again and cry over the almost same guy again.
It was stupid of you to assume that after you’ve chosen him, he’d also choose you. And now you’re crying again? Because in your head it was save to say that he’d only choose you too. So you’re really sitting here crying over something you kind of just made up in your mind? No. Your friends always give you support and you keep on coming back crying over a man. Hell when have you become that kind of girl? The twins really fucked you up. You were independent. You haven’t linked your happiness to having a boyfriend. Open your eyes Y/n. You’re surrounded by three amazing friends, who immediately drop everything they’re doing when you need them. Who are down to fight their own friends, just because they made you cry. You managed to go to this college and full fill your dream.
Isn’t this enough?
Isn’t this enough to be happy?
You open your arms and pull Kenna and Bokuto in a hug, while Kuroo smiles and gets up, wrapping his arms around you three.
“I love you all so soo much. I’m sorry for not really being a good friend, while you been the best friends someone could wish for.” Small tears roll down your cheeks and you feel Kuroo’s soft lips kissing your forehead.
“That’s what friends are for.” Bokuto says.
“I promise you’ll be the only guys I focus on from now on.” You laugh.
“ I’m glade Y/n... but can you all let go of me now?” Kenna asks and desperately tries to wiggle out of yours and Kuroo’s grip.
“Kenna! Stop ruining the moment!!!” Kuroo exclaims and only tightens his grip.
You laugh happily and feel your heart lightening.
Yes. This is enough to be happy.
-Meanwhile at Osamu’s shop-
“Emma?” Osamu asks annoyed.
“Yes Osaaa~” Emma looks at him innocently.
“Why do you have my phone?”
“Oh sorry, my internet wasn’t working working and I needed to look something up.” She says and quickly deletes the last messaged sent to Y/n.
“Ahh... you know I have WiFi here?” He says and rolls his eyes.
Tumblr media
taglist (open):  @kathya420 ,  @cuddlesslut , @tchalameme , @haikyuuopalite , @socks-for-a-slytherin , @monni-dionne​ , @kuroos-moon , @captainofmanyfandoms @a-tol-baby , @ensworks  @chaelysian @dumb-chaotic-bi-energy, @shhhlikeme, @bringmelily , @ynjimenez, @thecaptainship @90s-belladonna @laceymorganwrites @kristelmiyathot  @lovedanii @nekoma-hoe , @suna-allie, @imuziawi, @oikawatooruisking, @chisaikuki  , @akakuzumo @writingfreakk @its-me-nico @apollochjld , @isthistherealifeoristhisafantasy, @gaychemicalwater  @achly @maii-flowers ,  @nicolemelton @stfucanunot @chromaticstudio  @stardustanni   @alienvarmint @saucysamu @anime-simp @thirsthourdemon  @shoyosun @peachymelbs @katsukisbabymomma @riniii @wheelzzzies
128 notes · View notes
chemicalpink · 4 years
Text
Trust Fund Baby ♡ Kim Seokjin
Tumblr media
Pairing: Kim Seokjin x reader
Genre: Fluff + Softcore Smut with a side of Comedy
Word Count: 6.1k
Warnings: includes softcore porn, mc cries during sex bc too much feelings, fake engagement, Jin’s mum dislikes YN
Summary: Kim Seokjin is the biggest Trust Fund Baby, it is no secret but he’s almost thirty and on the line to inherit his dad’s CEO position, which makes his family set a deadline for his engagement or he loses it all.
OR
The one where Seokjin is no good with buried feelings but Y/N isn’t any better (they kinda hate each other and they have to share a bed okay, thats the cliche here)
A/N: banner made by me, whoa I finally got this bad boy finished that took quite some time, well, I hope you enjoy, these past few days haven’t been nice to me but I’m slowly working on it. Much blessing to all of you reading this first attempt at a slightly longer shot.
Seokjin has always been one to enjoy the finest things in life, traveling around the world at any given time? check. shopping without checking the price tag? check. attending a top tier university? also check. 
The thing is, one can only live so long without having to actually work for every single swipe of a black card. He is about to turn 28, youngest child of the most successful tech innovator in Korea and a former second-place Miss Universe, and he has yet to bring a girl home that provides him with some kind of secured future to the family name.
“We are not getting any younger” his mother had said the first few times the topic was brought up during their usual family Sunday brunch, but the words fell on deaf ears.
When his dad started getting involved in the matter, Seokjin knew he was over and done with.
But as much as his dad was headstrong, Jin was one himself too, he entered each blind date knowing that he would make whoever was sitting across from him, absolutely despise him after less than an hour went by, which was quite a hard task in itself, seen as he was pretty good looking and with a heavy amount of money under his name. 
See, he would have probably agreed to marry to some of the girls that his dad sent his way, but every time he sat down for dinner with each of them, they were not even trying to fake being interested in him, just his lifestyle, whether it is if his dad was about to name him CEO any time soon or how much money they could blow off in the wedding.
He could do it for the rest of his living days, scaring off his father’s candidates, that is. It was somewhat fun, earning a weirded out look when he mentioned he liked bathing in goats milk religiously, or how he allegedly liked being put to sleep like a baby, he even once went as far as admitting a fake toe kink in the most perverted way possible when one of them just wouldn’t budge.
Then again, his fun could only last so long, as his father called him up to the office to give him a 30-day ultimatum or his trust fund would be taken away for good. Now that had the gears in his head working, how on earth would any sane enough person agree to marry in a month-long time.
“I’m not saying you’re not a keeper, hyung but I honestly don’t think I can take up such a responsibility,” Namjoon laughed as they sat in one of the campus’ lounge chairs while they waited for their class to start, the elder groaned in response.
“Could you imagine having to marry THE Kim Seokjn in less than a month, but also having to meet the standards of tech genius Mr Kim and universal beauty Mrs Kim” Jungkook laughed at his friend as he patted his shoulder in pity “I don’t think anyone is willing to put themselves through it hyung”
“Could you just- I don’t know, help me out a bit? I already know I’m fucked” 
“Okay, let’s say… who could pass the scrutinising judgemental eye of the Kims?” the blond one offered, just a bit of teasing in his tone “They would have to be a girl, your father seems adamant on that one” he paused as if in thought “ A nice family name would help too”
“She would have to be good looking too, my mum says Seokjin-hyung’s mum can never be seen without looking like she is about to own a runway” 
“Well that’s about it, I will be broke for the rest of my life, I won’t be able to pay my student loans, it was nice knowing you guys, I’ll just have to work at some greasy old diner to pay for a one-bedroom apartment somewhere out of the city and we’ll never hang out again because I’ll be a disgrace of society, this handsome face will just wrinkle and spot without the high maintenance and- ugh” he buried his face in between his hands, resting on the table in an overexaggerated manner after his rant, making the youngers try to stifle a laugh
“Whoa, what is the drama queen crying about now?” Taehyung, another friend of theirs approached the table after hearing the not so subtle commotion “Hyung, if your night cream went out of stock again, you know I can get my mum to ship some to you, we’ve talked about this”
If Seokjin’s dramatic outburst from before had made them laugh, Taehyungs’ confession made them burst in a fit of laughter that had both of them holding onto their sides “You’ve- you’ve had to restock Seokjin-hyung on- on night cream before?” 
“And now he’s going to kill me, stop laughing!” he took a seat next to them “What is this about anyway?”
“His dad said he has to marry or they will completely obliterate his spending rights” 
“Oh but, how hard can it be? You’re Kim Seokjin, just ask a girl to fake marry you” 
“He’s just worried that after having a taste of Worldwide Handsome, they won’t let go ” Seokjin let out an overdramatic groan at that, continuing to fake cry, sound muffled by his arms
“Then just ask someone that doesn’t give two shits about your money or reputation to fake marry you”
“I don’t think such a person exists, hyung”
“Yah, Y/N is a good option, her family is filthy rich too” 
“But isn’t Y/N… you know, a bastard child?” Taehyung was known amongst their scene as a social butterfly, not caring about the protocol they were subdued into when they were children, so it made sense that while for them it was almost a rule to never consider an illegitimate child a friend of theirs, Taehyung would just jump over that fact.
“Which is exactly my point, if you show up to your parents’ house, saying you’re ‘oh so in love with this black sheep’ I could bet my life, they’ll let you off the hook”
 So maybe Taehyung was right, you were his best shot so far. Contrary to what most people new to the scene of Korea’s high society believe about your social status as an illegitimate child of the car emporium’s CEO and national treasure, he knows you are more of an insider, having grown up with him but… pretty much on the side. It wasn’t like you were alien to his lifestyle, but as you both grew up and he was involved more in the family business, you had grown apart, going as far as rebelling against your father once you were grown up enough to understand what being a bastard child meant for you. 
He never stopped seeing you around though, once you started going MIA on business dinners and family trips, he thought enough to see you during classes.
However, you stopped being recognisable after he attended a semester abroad, coming back home to see pigtails and pink puffy dresses long gone, in their place, ripped jeans, which were completely unacceptable for a lady, according to his mum, and driving one of your dad’s self-proclaimed archnemesis designs. 
It was a spring semester in high school, he could recall the time as if it were a precious memory, while the rest tried to pretend it had never happened in the first place; at age 27 he doesn’t have to try so hard to recall the way you burst into one of your father’s celebratory cocktails, drunk off your ass, barely managing to get a hold of some mic and screaming into it how he, and everyone else attending the party, had a stick up their asses that didn’t let them see anything but price tags before you were dragged off stage by security. He had giggled at it but his mother had scolded him, asking him to pretend as if you had never existed in the first place.
So of course, the secure way out of an arranged marriage was simple: you. 
Now, this promised to be no easy task, he knew you hated his family almost as much as you hated your own father, but he also happened to know his way into negotiating an infallible plan that would get you to rebel against the system you were so adamant on taking down. 
“Wait wait wait, so you’re telling me, asking me, to marry you” so perhaps approaching you on your way to class wasn’t the smartest way to do it, seen as you halted your hasty walk to turn to look at him, books in hand and looking like you hadn’t slept in days.
“Yeah, fake marrying me though” 
“I would still sign a contract, Jin you do know we would be legally married, right?” he just raised his shoulders as if to dismiss your statement.
“Say, hypothetically I do it, I don’t think your parents would approve of me” you resumed your walk and he found it appropriate to play dumb with a smile on his face.
“Why wouldn’t they?” 
You stopped walking again and blinked a few times his way as if debating inside your head if he really was that dense“Jin… I’m a bastard child, you know how it goes around here”
“Hmmm I’m willing to look past that, yeah” you stared at him for a few seconds before smiling in a knowing way, resisting the urge to roll your eyes at him,  not being able to see past his words to his true intentions on the matter since you two hadn’t really hung out for years “So what do you say?”
“No thank you” you weren’t about to turn around once you started to walk away once again, but out of the corner of your eyes you could see him hanging his mouth open in that drama fashion he was known for.
Days passed and each one seemed to go by faster than the last, by the time two weeks were left, he could practically hear the ticking clock inside his head, reminding him that maybe he should have gone for an easier target, perhaps some girl from the country club that seemed to always try so hard to steal a glance from him. But then again, he wouldn’t get rid of her for all he’s worth.
Seokjin tries, again and again, everytime ending up with a no from you, he starts actually trying as his days run low, peer pressure, you’d call it as he set up a huge booth full of roses just outside your dorm building, a mic held in his hand as everyone around him took videos of THE Kim Seokjin making a fool of himself for a girl, your cheeks blazing red as you walked up to him, finally fed up with him as you angrily whispered to him “You’re asking me because you don’t think I am on your level, you honestly think less of me, why? because I didn’t grow up in a golden cradle like you and your friends? because I actually have to work for what I have? You’re an asshole Kim Seokjin, but I will prove you, I can absolutely charm both of your parents, I’ll do it” Seokjin’s grin taking over his features.
The first time you officially posed as Seokjin’s girlfriend, you wouldn’t have thought it would be one of the most nerve wrecking experiences in your life, having grown in a wealthy family, after your mother decided to leave you with your biological dad and his rightful heirs, you were no stranger to their roundabouts, their lifestyle and everything in between.
“Well you cleaned up nicely, Y/N” Seokjin said in a mocking tone, body resting against his black car just outside your dorm building as he watched you close the glass door, ready to drive both of you to his family’s vacation house all the way in Jeju Island
“Why aren’t you a gentleman and help me with my stuff?” you groaned as, once again, your suitcase betrays you and tries to slip away from your grasp.
“Nah, not really my thing” he adjusted his sunglasses perched on his nose as he mockingly added “...darling”
“Kim Seokjin, I am the one doing you a favour by going with you!” you shouted back at him, in a futile attempt to get him to help you as he was already buckling himself up  inside the driver’s seat.
In all wealthy family fashion, as soon as Seokjin phoned back home to let his parents know that he was ‘finally ready to bring his girlfriend over’ his mum had gone all out and invited most of the inner Kim family for a weekend get together in one of their houses in Jeju, with just a text the night before having to leave campus as a heads up for you to get ready, currently on your way to catch a plane. 
“Wait so let me just get this straight” you said, surprised at Seokjin’s story of how the conversation with his mum went down, turning in your seat to face him more clearly “just after month of your parents trying to set you up, you just went ahead and straight up lied to your mother by saying that you’re bringing your long time girlfriend that you just somehow never mentioned before?”
“Yeah, Y/N, didn’t you hear me out the first time?”
You let out something between a laugh and a scoff as you melted into your seat “We’re so screwed”
Two hours and a lot of bickering later, you are still pushing your own suitcase forward as you and Seokjin made your way to a rented car just outside the airport.
“Listen so- these family things are kinda..”
“Stuck up?”
“I was gonna say etiquette-driven, but yeah, stuck up probably fits best” he said as you buckled your seatbelt on, him beginning to drive away and towards his family address, somewhere from the side of your eye you could see his hand trembling lightly on the steering wheel. Could it be that Kim Seokjin was nervous? The Kim Seokjin? 
“Relax Jin, I know exactly how to handle it. We grew up together, remember?” you said smiling at him as he turned your way for a second; to calm him down, but honestly it was more a thing to try and calm yourself down, having ran away from such a lifestyle, stirring things up in your family, only to end up somehow at the center of it all was sure a wild ride to be on.
“Yeah, I sometimes kinda forget you used to be so much better at this stuff than your sisters” his eyes lingered on you a second too long as you stopped at a red light, a small smile taking over his lips and the car behind you being quick to make it known that Seokjin was taking up too long to start the car going again when the light changed.
The ride was pretty much silent and kinda awkward but soon over with as the car pulled up to a familiar villa, white houses with fancy front gardens and over the top luxury cars lining up together as Jin parked on the third house on the right, just beside the one that used to be your father’s, and probably still was.
A woman was waiting by the entrance door, which you soon recognised to be Seokjin’s mum, looking just a tad older than how you remembered her from all those years ago, a bright smile on her face as she rushed to the driver’s side to greet her son.
“Ah Seokjinnie! You never visit anymore, look at you! Are you eating well? You look so thin!” she said as she placed two sonorous kisses on her son, one  on each cheek.
“Yah, eomma, we talk on the phone a lot though” 
“Wait so who’s the lucky lady you’ve brought home?” you stood kind of awkwardly on the front of the car to greet her with a small bow and a faltering smile, your heart speeding up at the memories of what your life used to be, fingers gripping your bag tighter in an attempt to not run away as soon as her eyes landed on you and her smile fell “Y/N? Seokjinnie, is Y/N really the girl you brought home?”
“Surprise?” Jin said from behind her as she not so subtly let out a huff and entered the house as you tried not to notice how your heart sinked at the sight, surely, you had always known deep down that you were quite the talk of the town amongst the families, with you being a bastard child and all, which was exactly why Seokjin had asked you to pretend to be his girlfriend, so his parents would drop the topic, very much preferring to see his son single rather than married to an out of marriage offspring, which not only made you realise that what you had promised yourself to make Seokjin down his words would never be true, you could never in a million years make his parents love you, and you didn’t calculate just how much it would hurt yourself as you tried.
“You can take the room upstairs, I’ll call you when your sister’s back so we can have dinner together” his mother said as she made her way inside without another word
“So I don’t think your mother likes me” you blurted out as soon as you closed the door to the room “Which I guess, goes exactly as you planned, after this I don’t think they’ll be pestering you to marry”
“Y/N that’s the least of our problems”
“What are you talking about?”
His eyes opened up to emphasize along with his hands dramatically pointing towards the bed “There’s only one bed and I have a bad back so I’m not about to sleep on the floor”
“Well that’s the least you could do Kim, I’m not about to share a bed with you”
“Take the couch?” he said as he pointed to a small couch that faced the window 
“Kim Seokjin I’m doing this much for your sorry ass, so unless you want me to go down and tell your mother that all of this is a set up, you take the damn couch”
“Well I never knew you looked that hot while yelling at me, Y/N”
“You’re insufferable” 
“Y/N come on, I don’t fit in that couch” he whined at you as you walked towards the bathroom to freshen up
“Do as you please Seokjin, but you’re not sleeping with me” 
As if dealing with Seokjin’s mum wasn’t enough, his sister was about to burst your head either from all the questioning or out of spite from the looks she was giving you as you sat across from her on the dinner table
“So Y/N, your sisters never mentioned you dating our Seokjin”
“Oh yeah- it was more of a very private matter, we dated for awhile just to see how it went, right Jinnie?” you said the nickname in a honey dripping voice that fitted the fake scenario you had going on
“Ahh yeah, yeah, Y/N and I, we uh- we like keeping to ourselves”
“And I haven’t seen you at your dad’s company dinners after- well, the incident”
“Seung” their oldest brother said sternly, catching up with her intentions “We’re just glad to see you again, Y/N”
“Thanks”
After dinner, Jin and you walked upstairs saying your goodbyes to the rest of his family to enter the bedroom, separately doing your night routines, you lied on one side of the bed as Seokjin prepped a few blankets and pillows in order to lie on the floor “I was just joking, you know? You could sleep on the other side of the bed” you said, feeling somewhat guilty at how he had taken your past statement as a rule
“I don’t want to make you uncomfortable” he was quick to say, already tossing at being uncomfortable lying on the floor.
“Oh so now you’re being considerate?” you scoffed- sure, Seokjin was kind of a dick, most of the time, but he wasn't half as bad as most people his age and social status, but honestly speaking, if he was so preoccupied on making you uncomfortable, he wouldn’t have even proposed to make you go through this whole ordeal “After what I just had to go through with your sister?”
“Well you kind of accepted to come” he retorted in a soft voice, one you hadn’t listened to him use before, as if over the course of the short dinner time, something had changed in your relationship “A friend doing me a favour, you know?”
“Seokjin…” you trailed off, however as far as you two went back, after news broke that you were somewhat cut off from your father’s heirship, and everyone started treating you cold as ever, you would have thought Jin had gotten the clue “We stopped being friends a long time ago”
“What are you talking about” the night was filled with silence apart from your two whispering voices in the dark as both of you laid there
“Yeah after… that time, we hadn’t talked to each other until now” Describing your relationship with Seokjin was one of the most difficult things to do, while you were still part of the official lineage of your father’s, the Kims had actually even rooted for you to marry Seokjin, whomst you were head over heels at the time, both of you were, but Jin being the good son and heir to a tech emporium, had always disliked the way you stood up against your father and the whole elite thing your families had going on; needles to say, you both completely cut off any strings attached after you proclaimed your despise to the whole wealthy ordeal and you were vanished from your dad’s will. 
“I fail to see your point” and for a second you would have loved to believe his soothing voice in the dark, to still be in friendly terms at least, with him, after all this time.
“Nevermind just- goodnight” you said as you turned on your side to cuddle the pillow in between your arms, his soft voice reaching your ears once more and for the last time in the night.
“Goodnight Y/N”
“I’m just going straight to the point here, Y/N what exactly do you plan on achieving by marrying my son?” Jin’s mother said as soon as you came down the stairs, Seokjin having left the room a while back
“Nothing ma’am, we’re just really in love” something inside you twisting at the lie that could have been truth if things were just a tiny bit different than how they were evolving at the time, the words leaving your lips sounding as the mere truth to your ears nonetheless
“I don’t buy that lovebirds facade, Y/N drop the act now” she turned to look directly at you, trying to sound menacing, which, would have worked, had it not been for you handling her for quite some time now, so you just tried your sweetest smile at her “Whatever you and Seokjin had when you were teens, your father and Seokjin’s father called it off”
“I know” you tried to conceal just how much the reminder hurted, the memories flooding into your mind, of you and Jin being engaged even before meeting each other, the good times you both spent together as friends, a few months as something more, then the lonely nights when it was all over and it had seemed like a dream that just wouldn’t ever come true.
“Just so you know, I’m keeping a close eye on you two” were her last words before leaving the kitchen, off to some other place in the house.
“Yes ma’am”
“Hey, Y/N, we’re heading to the beach you coming?” Seokjin asked as he laid his elbow on the counter, you pull him towards you, taking his hand in your smaller one as you watched his mother closing in on you two from the distance before she set her eyes elsewhere
He leaned in to you, whispering “What was that for?”
“Your mother knows something’s up” you shortly answered
“Y/N, I didn’t know you were coming” Seokjin’s father looked just as he did the last time you saw him years ago, his face contorting into an incredule one as he saw you descend from one of the cars that took you to the beach “Are you and your father on a better place now?”
“Oh no sir, I’m accompanying Seokjin” if he hadn’t believed your presence at first, he surely wasn’t believing the words leaving your mouth; Seokjin’s father had always had a soft spot for you, my hardest working tobe daughter-in-law, he had once said, and even after you and Seokjin’s engagement was called off, mainly by your father even when Jin’s mum said otherwise, his dad had offered you a place in his company’s headboard after you graduated, which you politely denied, knowing that someday, Seokjin would be CEO and you would have to work under his name directly.
“Seokjin? my son?” you nodded “What has Seokjin ever done to deserve you as his fiancee?”
“The same thing I keep repeating myself” you mutter more to yourself than for him to hear
“What was that?”
“Oh, nothing!”
The weekend with Jin’s family was as monotonous as you remembered them to be, with family dinner after a day at the beach, plus the constant scrutinising eye of his mother on you two, which made you both hold hands more than the normal amount a real couple should, only to have to spend the night at a lonely bed.
 “Jin, I’m cold” 
“Well you sure aren’t planning on also taking my blanket from me, you’ve taken my bed already” he joked from his made up bed on the floor, which in hindsight, was probably even colder for him than for you
“Jin”
“No can’t do”
“Come cuddle me then” the words had left your mouth before your brain could even complete to process them, the situation all too familiar from years before, like muscle memory, your brain had just dwelled into a common relationship between the two, too easy to slip away from.
“Ohhh you’re already falling for worldwide handsome” he joked, only you knowing the truth his words hid behind them and you felt your face heat up, somehow deciding against backing up.
“Shut up just-” torn between spilling your “new found” feeling for him that were remains from a past love or keeping it the bare minimum “I’m cold”
“Fine, I’ll be there” he paused, and you knew him all too well to know that he was wearing a stuid grin on his face, wondering if by any chance the innocent banter had a deeper meaning for him too as he added “Almost fiancee”
You could hear a shuffling  of blankets and him throwing his pillows on the bed before he literally jumped on it, whole body hovering over yours, his eyes glistening as they bore into yours as he kept his body weight on his extended hands, a familiar twist in your heart at the distance, his lips on yours in the blink of an eye for less than a second before he rolled off to the empty side of the bed
“What was that for?!” you panicked, not loud enough for anyone to hear but him
“I don’t know it felt right”
As you turned to confront him, the air suddenly didn’t feel as cold as before, a warmth enveloping you both that felt like home, like this place and time was exactly where you were supposed to be all along, your hands coming up to caress the side of his face as his larger ones tugged you closer to him effortlessly without breaking eye contact; both of your faces coming closer to each other, noses brushing against each other before your lips found his, an all too familiar setting for the both of you, everything feeling as if both of your lives had been a movie that had been unwillingly paused and someone had pressed play just as you were close like this, feeling as if all those years apart were nothing when together, his hot tongue lapping your lower lip as you granted him entrance, tongues dancing with one another as time seemed to slow down, a gasp escaping your lips as his cold hand found its way into your pajama pants “sorry, is this okay?” he whispered against your lips, to which you agreed, your own hands scurrying under his top to caress his torso, his lips finding your sweet spot under your ear all too easily, as if he had never forgotten about it, his pants straining by each passing second as you felt him grow harder against your thigh, hand going under the covers to palm him over the fabric, which made him exhale a moan in your ear, feeling yourself grow wetter at the display, all too familiar, yet not enough, you lunged yourself over him to straddle his hips, clothed core rubbing against his covered length in a futile attempt to ease the tension “ah- you’re sure about this, Y/N?” he found himself checking in with you before you both lost yourselves to pleasure “a hundred percent, Jin”.
Seokjin was quick to rid you both of your clothing, both of you grimacing at the cold and giggling about it for a second before you resumed your ways with one another, Jin’s tongue working its way down your body until he reached your folds, eating you out like a man starved, his hand finding yours to grip tight as he went down to business, lapping up your juices and working you to your first quieted orgasm of the night with a questionable experience, were you two to have never broken up in the first place; you quick to turn you both over so you were on top and ready to ride his apparently aching length as soon as he disctrated himself by kissing you post-bliss tasting yourself on his tongue, a smirk forming in his features as he reached on the bed side table to roll a condom on himself, your hands teasing him already as you muttered a “Your parents are in the next room” that was soon answered with a cocky “We shouldn’t let them hear then” before you lined him up with your entrance and slided down on him, hands gripping each other’s as you started working a pleasurable deep pace, moans tangling with the other’s, eyes fluttering shut and a lonely tear rolling down you cheek at all the emotions that you had pent up and were slowly releasing by each thrust as you buried your face on his neck, startling Jin  and making you look down on him to check on you as he noticed you crying “Y/N, are you okay?” he muttered sweetly before kissing your lips in the sweetest form, hips stilling as he was buried deep inside you, him tossing you underneath him, angling his hips better and taking over a more passionate pace, plump lips kissing away your falling tears, as if knowing that they were caused by something bigger than the both of you “God you’re so beautiful” he said as his pace became erratic “Come with me please, Y/N” whether his words or the newly found position as he pulled a leg over his shoulder, hitting all the right spots, worked you to your second orgasm, followed by him spilling in the condom, would remain a mystery as he was quick to dispose the used condom and clean both of you as you edged on sleep, his naked torso colliding with your bare back as he cuddled you.
“What are they doing here?” You muttered under your breath as Jin leaned into your frame, your right arm intertwined with his as you both rounded the corner to greet the guests that Jin’s mother had so carefully selected for the engagement party
“What? Who?” his eyes scanned the room rapidly 
“My father and- Seoyun and Junghee” his free hand rested on top of yours in an attempt to let you know he was there for you, having witnessed first hand all the history between you and your family and mentally cursing his mother for playing you so dirty
“Shit”
“Seokjin I can’t keep doing this” you turned to him, eyes panicked and wide on the verge of tears, his mind racing a hundred miles per second in search for the right words that would make you stay, he had already lost you before, and even though things didn’t quite turned out the way he had planned, he wasn’t about to let you slip away again “I can’t face them again, after all they’ve put me through, Seokjin, they took away my dreams just because I wouldn’t pace around like the rest of them,  this is your life, not mine I’m so sorry” you had ran out of his grip and out the door before his brain could even begin to process it, blinking a few too many times before he called out to you 
“Seokjinnie! What’s taking you so long?” his mother had gathered the guests in the garden for the grand entrance of the newly announced engagement, tired of being kept waiting, walking up to him
“I’m so sorry eomma, I’ll- I just- I have to go” in his mind he was already out the door looking for you, had it not been for his mother’s hand on his bicep keeping him on place and turning him to look at her
“Kim Seokjin, we get it. Your father and I will wait until you find a girl to marry, one that suits you well” Seokjin’s mother was sure a woman that could not be fooled, but this one time perhaps it was Jin that had been fooled by himself on letting himself get close to you and fall in love all over again, just the way it happened all those years ago, just the way it was supposed to be
“That’s what you don’t get mum, I’ve already found the one” 
“Y/N? Jinnie, Y/N is not part of our world, you know it” 
“Then I want to be part of hers. I don’t care if you take my trust fund, take everything, I’ll build myself up, just like she did all those years ago and all of us, we all turned our backs on her, I want to be there for her, like it should have been from the start” he would have loved to record the incredulity in his mother’s eyes as she let her arms fall to her sides defeated, the first time Kim Seokjin had fail to complied with his mother was about none other than in an engagement matter.
Truth be told, you couldn't go far, there was no possible way you could just run home all the way from Jeju Island, but somehow seeing your tear stained face as you slumped over an old set of swings that he now recalled, you two used to go to back in the day, had his heart filling up, butterflies roaming his tummy
“...Jin” you exhaled his name, his mind quickly recalling the night before, how your eyes spilled love all over, how the past days watching you go on your daily routine alongside him, had him imploding with the purest kind of love
“Y/N? Listen I-” he began, a thousand words tangled in his mind waiting to be released
“I don’t think I made it”
“Made what?”
“Your parents to like me” a smirk appeared in his features as his hand came up to caress the side of your face lovingly
“Well you certainly made me like you” he said, close enough to your lips that you could have sworn both of your breaths mixed into one
“I don’t think you ever stopped liking me” a mirroring grin traced your lips before you leaned in to kiss him, whatever the path you two were once destined to walk, it was all different now, whatever turns it may take the only sure thing was that you two would walk it down together after all those years apart. 
Plus, technically speaking, Jin’s trust fund should remain intact since he found a wife in less than a month’s time, and you could always ask his dad for that place in the company he was always talking about.
352 notes · View notes
aprilsrant · 4 years
Text
Praised be writer’s block | Young!Remus Lupin x Slytherin!Fem!Reader.
SUMMARY: in the midst of an upcoming war and worries about the future, (Y/N) bonds with an unexpected person, golden boy from gryffindor house himself.
WORD COUNT: 3,000, more or less…
A/N: this is my first time doing this, so if you have any suggestions please let me know! also, if you can, reblog so it can reach more people, it’ll help me a lot.
All of this wouldn’t be here if it wasn’t for @peeves-a-legend​, which btw is an amazing writer. I can’t thank you enough!
Masterlist.
The gif below is not mine, credits to the original maker. And yes, I see robert sean leonard as a young!remus, but you can imagine whoever you want.
Tumblr media
In one of the few sunny and warm mornings left of the season, (Y/N)’s mother had dragged her to Diagon Alley to buy her school’s supplies. The term for her sixth year was about ten days away from starting and going there didn’t thrill her anymore. She had retarded the visit as long as her mother’s patience lasted (which wasn’t a lot considering the woman had belonged to Hufflepuff), and no one had been succesfull on finding the reason, althought her mum suspected it. 
(Y/N) hadn’t felt the rush of excitement run through her body in a long time when she thought about going back to Hogwarts, and buying supplies meant she was only a step closer. Her first two years were more than she could ever ask for, but everything came crashing down on her at the young age of thirteen. 
(Y/N) had started to notice the repulsive look on people’s faces whenever she tried to help them, all looking down at her green robes as if she had grown a third arm or a second head overnight. She realised, with now a heavy weight on her heart and a new insecurity over her mind, that not all Hufflepuffs were kind and inviting. Maybe, she supposed, they were too proud to accept help from anyone else. 
Or perhaps, (Y/N) was too naive to think she could defy centuries of old stereotypes and unhealthy competitions while wearing a green and silver tie.
But the rude comments and weird stares had not affected her in such a long time. She didn’t show them how angry she got about those and how much she wanted to scream at those Gryffindors to get over themselves, because if she did, she was proving their point. All snakes, young or old, end up being violent creatures. Instead, a new feeling of uneasiness had settled in her mind, washing away her minor problems.
Peace no longer reigned over the Wizarding World. Rumors of a war were spreading like wildfire. Voldemort’s ranks got bigger and bigger with the passing time, and more muggle families and muggleborns were being wiped out, like they meant nothing. In those dark times, not having magic or being from a family with the wrong kind of ancestors, could determine your doom. 
In her case, she wasn’t at the top of the Dark Eater’s food chain as a halfblood, but that didn’t ease her nerves. She was more worried about her father, a muggleborn, her grandparents and several other friends. Many of their families wanted to go into hiding and she knew that this year and the others to come, Hogwarts wouldn’t be so magical.
Once they passed through the brick wall at the Leaky Cauldron,  their first stop was the Apothecary, which (Y/N) had refused to enter because of the disgusting smell of bad eggs and something more repulsive she didn’t identify. Instead, she decided to visit Quality Quidditch Supplies. It’s not like she played the sport, Merlin knows how awful she was at throwing or hitting things, and playing as Seeker was not an option. But she always attended the matches, channelling every single piece of energy her body had onto cheering for Slytherin’s team. 
(Y/N) made her way to one of the corners of the shop, wanting to see the newest Quidditch gloves her best friend had talked about so much in her letters. Maybe she could get her a new pair for her birthday, so she could start the season with brand new gloves. But looking at the price, she realized a cheappier gift would have to do. Her family wasn’t the richest and she knew her parents were struggling with money lately.
“Expensive, aren’t they?,” asked a voice from behind her. She turned around, one of the gloves still on her right hand, and noticed that the voice belonged to no other than Remus Lupin. She was lying to herself if she said he wasn’t good looking. Those dark brown eyes and soft hair had gotten to her when they were in their fourth year. (Y/N) had spent weeks, maybe even months, crushing on him and, of course, annoying her friends to no end about how perfect he was and how he was one of the few decent members of the lion house. But she never tried anything, she had a long list of excuses that, maybe, exceeded the many numerous reasons why she liked the Gryffindor so much.
“Definitely,” (Y/N) finally answered with a grimace in her face, “I thought I could get a pair for my best friend’s birthday since she’s a Chaser, but I’m not so sure now”.
Remus offered her a small smile and muttered something about how her best friend would appreciate anything she would give her. After that, neither of them said anything and only the noise of other people’s chattering could be heard. She looked around the store, trying to think about something that would lead to more talk, while Remus put his hands in his jeans’s pockets and changed the weight of his body to his left leg. 
A few more seconds passed and (Y/N), not tolerating the awkward atmosphere anymore, was the one to initiate the conversation this time.
“So, um, Remus, are you, um, planning on joining the Gryffindor Quidditch team? Since, you know, you are… here”. 
Merlin, her sister was right, she did need to start socialising more.
“Oh no, not a chance,” he answered letting a snicker escape his lips. (Y/N)’s mouth turned into a little smile because of the sound, not noticing at first. “I’m just here because of James and Sirius, they wanted to see some new brooms that came out this…”.
Remus words were interrupted by the same people he’d just mentioned. James Potter and Sirius Black, the most known students at Hogwarts, were walking towards them. (Y/N) tried to put on a neutral face, not showing her true thoughts on the two boys.
It wasn’t that she hated them. At some point, she had found her pranks on those horrible Slytherins funny, but after last year her opinion on them changed drastically. It appeared to be that they couldn’t distinguish who were the “good” Slytherins therefore they’d just played cruel jokes on every single member of the house. Or maybe, they didn’t think Slytherins could be nice and decent people, so all of them deserved to be made fun of.
“REMUS!,” they both shouted at the same time. Almost everyone in the shop turned to see them, and as (Y/N) moved uncomfortable with a scowled look because of the new, and unwanted attention, she wondered why they had to be so bloody loud all the time. “We were looking for you, but it seems you have found some company”.
Remus’s cheeks changed to a soft crimson after Sirius’s comment.
“Careful now, Rem, snakes tend to bite and some of them are poisonous.” James’s eyes shined with mischief as he spoke.
(Y/N) rolled her eyes at that, but instead of keeping quiet as she normally would, she responded to Potter’s remark, surprising the others and herself in the process.
“Excellent observation, James. Now, how much time did it take you to come up with that and for how long you’ve been wanting to use it? Perhaps, it was after that particular Quidditch match where Slytherin shredded you into pieces ”. 
His face no longer showed a fun expression, but, in it’s place, was a face with narrowed eyes trying to hide the fact he had been caught. (Y/N) smiled at that, she was not this kind of person but it was good to see Potter embarrassed after he had humiliated her in front of half the school just a few months ago. She knew Sirius wanted to say something to save his friend, but as his mouth was starting to open to spill some sarcastic or stupid comment about her house, Remus stepped in.
“Sirius, don’t say anything, just leave her alone,” he began, giving the pair a pointed look with his eyebrows raised, “we were only talking, there’s no need to start acting as if she’s going to bite my head off”.
Dumb and Dumber, as one her Slytherin friends liked to called them, stared at Remus like he had transformed into a Hipogriff. (Y/N), as surprised as she was, glanced at him with a confused, yet somehow grateful, look on her face.  In return, he smiled at her and grabbed his friends from the shoulders, making them walk towards the door while mentioning something about having to meet up with Peter at Florean Fortescue’s Ice Cream Parlor. 
Before reaching the door, Remus turned around, let go of Sirius for a moment and waved at her with a grin, one that made her cheeks blushed and her stomach flipped.
|||
It had been months since the interaction between her and Remus, plus James and Sirius. A small smile and a certain glow in her eyes stayed present on her face for the rest of the trip to Diagon Alley with her mother, who had not missed the sudden shift in her daughter’s appearance.
She hadn’t talked much with him again (only a few more times because of their prefect meetings), but the little interactions between them remained. Like the gentle and kind smiles they would send to each other while walking in the school grounds and greetings from afar with a short wave of the hand.
Winter break was just around the corner when they met again. Both wrapped around heavy coats, gloves and scarfs protecting them from the cold wind and the freezing fog. (Y/N) would have been pissed about her feet getting wet from the snow if it wasn’t for the outstanding landscape it created. A pure scenery, grounds and trees and roofs of the castle covered in white, in such terrible and corrupted times. 
“Lovely, huh?,” he mouthed. 
What is it with this boy and sneaking up on people?
(Y/N) nodded, still unable to tear her eyes from the view. When she finally did, she became aware of how close they were, elbows almost touching. Releasing a shaky breath, that quickly changed into what it looked like fog, (Y/N) peered at him. The end of his nose was red, matching his cheeks, while his lips were pale and dry from the weather. It was an adorable sight, perhaps even more worthy of her attention than the snowflakes falling from the sky.
“What makes you go to Hogsmeade on this particular frosty afternoon, (Y/N)?”
“I could ask you the same thing, Remus,” she exclaimed, the corners of her mouth quirking up as she mentioned his name, “but, if you really like to know, I’m heading there because I forgot about some Christmas’s presents. What about you?”
Without perceiving it, they had both started to walk towards the small town, making their way through the layers of snow. 
“I just, um, wanted to visit Hogsmeade one last time before, you know, going home.” For a moment, (Y/N) had the idea of hearing some kind of hesitation while he spoke, as if he wasn’t entirely sure of what he was saying. 
This time, (Y/N) would not let the conversation turn awkward so rapidly, after all this was her chance of having an actual opportunity with Remus. So she swallowed the majority of her nerves, which were quite a lot, and planted a smile on her face. But before the words could come out of her mouth, Remus himself had beat her.
“Would you like to come to the Three Broomsticks with me?,” he questioned. 
It took her a few seconds to understand what he had asked because of how rushed he’d spoken. Her eyes widened at the notion of going on a date with him. Was it even a date? A small voice wondered inside her head. Ignoring it, she replied with a short yes. His entire demeanour immediately transformed. Remus’s eyes didn’t hold too much worry now and a large smile decorated his face. 
The trip to the popular pub was shorter than it normally was, but (Y/N) guessed that had been for how much she and Remus talked while walking to the town. When they arrived, the warm and cozy ambient, although a bit smoky and crowded, received them like a bright lamp post in the middle of nowhere pointing out the pathway. Even if (Y/N) loved winter and snow, a hot butterbeer didn’t seem too bad after being exposed to the cold wind.
Sitting down at one of the tables from the right corner of the shop, right next to a large window and giving the back to one of the walls, she could see the entire place. But her eyes were now glued to the Gryffindor seated in front of her, who was trying not to look like he was going to pass out from the nerves of having a date (was it a date?) with the most gorgeous girl in Hogwarts, maybe even the whole world.
They passed the rest of the afternoon getting to know each other, chatting regarding the things they loved and hated from Hogwarts; complaining about professors and the amount of homework they sent; laughing because of some ridiculous story told by Remus (he swore his breath got caught in his lungs as he watched her throwing her head back while letting out a loud laugh, eyes shining with happiness and not caring, for the first time, about the looks from the people in the place). They discussed their favourite muggle authors, the most amazing films that had ever been made and their dreams after finishing their education. 
(Y/N) had felt herself falling all over again for him while watching him talk about how much he’d loved being a professor and being there for his students. The passion and shine in his eyes rivaled even the brightest star in the night sky. 
And Remus had seen the same expression in her face when she talked about becoming a known writer in both the muggle and wizarding world. Despite her excitement, he recognised something else in her eyes, perhaps uncertainty or even sadness. When he asked about it, (Y/N) confided in him the fact she was scared about trying it.
“What if it’s a waste of time? What I’m supposed to write about?”
“It won’t be a waste of your time if it makes you happy,” he reassured her, “and the ideas will come to you, don’t worry. You can even write about us.” (Y/N)’s eyes quickly made their way into his after hearing that. “I mean, about this part of our world”. She couldn’t help but feel quite disappointed. 
“Wouldn’t I be violating the Statute of Secrecy?”
Remus raised his shoulders a little as he pressed his lips together, clearly trying to stop a smile from forming in his face. 
“It’s not like the Ministry is going to find out,” he whispered, so only (Y/N) could be able to listen to him, “ who’s going to tell them about it? Me?”
A scoff left her mouth and she rolled her eyes playfully at him. Was this really happening? Remus Lupin, the boy she had a crush on in her fourth year, sitting in front of her, encouraging her to follow her dreams.
“Is the Golden Boy and Prefect of Gryffindor House actually saying that I should just break an International Law?” she joked while shaking her head in disbelief, “McGonagall would be so heart broken”.
Now it was his time to roll his eyes. Directing a smirk at her, he leaned back in his chair, more relaxed and with a new light glowing around him.
“Look, I would love to write about this world. But ambition is not the only trait that got me in Slytherin,” (Y/N) declared. She beamed when he furrowed his brows together in confusion, getting closer to the table and placing his elbows on top of it. “Violating that Law is having a death wish and self preservation is one of my top priorities”.
“I can’t help but agree to that”.
The hours kept running and people began to leave the pub, but not them. They had stayed until the owner told the teenagers he was closing. Not (Y/N) nor Remus had noticed where the time had gone. Quickly, they collected all of their belongings and left the establishment in a hurry. (Y/N) didn’t want to think about the punishment they’d received if they were caught.
Fortunately, they made it to the castle in one piece. Once they were a few meters away from the entrance, they started to laugh. None of them knew why, it just seemed like a good time to do it.
“What happened to you and your advice of breaking the rules?” (Y/N) said in the middle of a laugh.
“I hope this doesn’t become a tradition, Mr. Lupin, Ms. (Y/L/N),” a stern female voice said in front of them. Professor McGonagall was standing gracefully in front of the door, her arms crossed over her chest and a furious expression implanted in her face.
Remus and (Y/N) looked at each other, the same thought running through their minds. They were so screwed.
|||
December 25th.
Dear (Y/N):
I’m sending this letter to wish you a Merry Christmas and a great New Year, even though it’s not the 31st yet, but well… that doesn’t really matter right now.
I remembered you talking about how much you wanted to read more classics, and I couldn’t help myself. Inside the box, you will find Frankenstein, by Mary Shelley, and Wuthering Heights, by some other lovely woman named Emily Brontë. I’m not so sure about why you would enjoy them as much as I did, but maybe they’ll inspire you on your journey of becoming a writer. It won’t hurt visiting new worlds to fill your mind with ideas.
Also, and I hope this doesn’t bother you, the books are not brand new. They were read by me and have some marks on the pages, but I don’t like giving new books as gifts. I think that if they were used, they are even more special and hold more value.
Can’t wait to see you once the break is over.
Sincerely, Remus John Lupin.
|||
The grin on her face never abandoned her after reading Remus’s letter and opening the silver paper with golden stars all over it, in which he had wrapped the two books he had mentioned. In fact, it lingered on her for the rest of the day, accompanied with a special and renovated brightness in her eyes.  
Before letting the owl return back to its owner, (Y/N) gave her some food and water, and when it was ready, she attached a small box with red paper on the exterior and a green bow at the top. She had also prepared a gift for him, even if it wasn’t that meaningful (at least, that was what she thought). (Y/N) only hoped he would enjoy the chocolate stash, full with different muggle and wizarding ones she had thought he could try, while the owl stepped away from her windowsill.
Around eight p.m, she finally went to bed and despite spending the day interacting with her family, (thing that tired her out pretty quickly), (Y/N) was more awake than ever before. Laying down on her bed with a cup of tea and an old blanket that had once belonged to her sister, covering her legs, she grabbed one of the books Remus gifted her, ready to dwell in Mary Shelley’s world. 
143 notes · View notes
penwieldingdreamer · 4 years
Note
Hello, could I request Henry x plus size reader? Plot wise she's nervous about them dating because he's him, she plus size and still gets nervous when he touches certain spots or tries to turn the lights on during sexy times. Just a little fluff.
Thank you for the request, so I hope this was what you had in mind for the request and that you all like it. Let me know what you think and as always have fun and happy reading.
Warnings: fluff, body shaming
Words: 1587
Tumblr media
Henry Cavill deserves someone beautiful. 
He needs someone that is in the business and looks a thousand times better than her. 
The fat ugly cow will only just pull him down, he should be with an actress or a model, someone to get him better roles. 
You felt the tears roll down your cheeks when you read the hurtful words in the comment section of the latest article featuring Henry and you. He was very private, not often letting people see you with him, but sometimes it was impossible to not be photographed. 
Just like the time you were grocery shopping and Henry was gone to get some meat for dinner while you browsed the ice cream aisle for that dessert you had wanted to try for some time now. 
"Look at her." You turned to watch two women deeply interested in the low fat milk, yet still whispering about you. "She shouldn't be even there, she's going to get more fat from that. Maybe some training would work wonders."
The other one snickered behind her hand. "I don't think training alone will work on that, she'd have to be treated to water and bread to get that weight off. I can't believe he's still dating her after those months. The women he had before were more beautiful than her, I heard he's been looking elsewhere, with the actress from his new show, his co-star."
You felt your stomach churn and your heart constrict as the tears gathered in your eyes. There was no rhyme or reason why people were cruel to others they didn't even know, just because you had a few pounds more than those beanstalks it didn't mean you were any less of a human. You knew that and everyone, including Henry tried to tell you the same, but there still was that voice in the back of your head nagging that you would never be beautiful enough, never be good enough, never be better enough for someone like Henry. When he came to your side, the two chicks just sent you a dark look and being everything else but satisfied that he hadn't left you yet. 
How you got so lucky to date him you didn't even know. 
"Darling?" he called and you could hear Kal's claws clicked on the hardwood floor and you hastily closed your laptop and brushed at your wet cheeks, not wanting Henry to see what you had been up to while he was gone for a walk with the Akita and got his suit for the Witcher premiere in London the following week. "I got you something." 
He came into the living room, seeing you comfortable sitting on the couch with a book in your lap. It only took him one good look and a raised eyebrow before he came to sit beside you, asking what was wrong when he noticed your red rimmed eyes and blotchy cheeks. 
You shook your head. Trying to force the corners of your lips into a reassuring smile. "Nothing baby, I just-uhm-this passage was so sad and, well, you know me I always cry at something like this." 
"Sure, but I think it's easier to read when you turn the book upright." Henry held it out for you and you couldn't stop the tears from falling again. Instantly, he pulled you into his chest, slinging his strong arms around you and laid soft kisses onto your hair.
"I got you, baby, it's okay." 
The sobs wracked your body and you heard Kal's whine coming from his owner's side, not knowing what was happening but feeling your distress. Henry's hand calmly brushed over your shoulder as you slung your arms around his waist, somehow hoping to disappear inside his body and never to be bothered again. 
It took you awhile, but when you finally had calmed down and had given the Akita enough pats and ear scratches to reassure him that you were okay, you took a deep breath, brushing under your nose which was stuffy and sticky from all the crying you did before. 
"Are you going to tell me what's going on now?" 
Swallowing the lump in your throat, you nodded your head, your cheek rubbing against the wet patch on your boyfriends Krypton Lifting Team shirt. "I saw that article online, about us walking with Kal and well I-I saw the comments and I just, just needed to know what they think."
"Y/N, please darling, don't listen to anything they are saying about you." He gently pulled your head of his chest, his big warm hands cupping your cheeks so you could look at him. "I told you before, they don't mean shit to us, all we need" 
"But it's true, Henry." you insisted, pushing his hands away from you and standing up. "You could be with someone else, someone that doesn't shy away when you try to touch them or-or is confident enough to have sex while the lights are on." You paced around the living room, your rant only just starting when he tried to stop you. "You should be looking out for career, be seen with someone like Freya or Anya, they are right for you, not the fat cow living in a fairy tale until it's 12pm and the glass slippers fall off."
Standing up, Henry joined you, clasping the hand that was nervously picking at  the dry patches of skin on your lips. "Y/N, you should see what I see everyday that I'm looking at you. Kal loves you, you're his dog-mum, my brothers and parents adore you. I love you, every day since I met you there was nothing else on my mind but running my hands over your curves, smelling that divine scent of the shampoo you use, it's amazing by the way," you couldn't help the watery chuckle that left your mouths as you listened to his rant. "The business is tough, I should know that, more so than you ever should know it. I'm sorry I haven't protected you since, I wanted to keep you safe by trying to hide you, which was a dumb thought honestly." Henry shrugged his big shoulders, but sent you a toothy grin. "But maybe we should start doing what everyone does and make it official. You're amazing and you love cooking, rugby and gaming just as much as I do. I don't care if you still get nervous and fidgety when I touch you, we can work through that. And sex with the lights of is great, don't you know that other senses are heightened when you can't see, makes it even better."
Closing your eyes, you felt the smile tugging at the corner of your lips. Moving closer, you leaned into his embrace, breathing in his after shave and listening to his steady heartbeat. Henry's arms tightened around your body and he laid a sweet kiss onto your forehead mumbling something. "What did you say?" you asked when you looked up at him. 
"I said 'the only thing that's more incredible than your smile is, when you smile at me'." Brushing your hands along his stubbled jaw you smiled up at him. "Ah, see, there it is. I love you Y/N, never doubt that and never let anyone else tell you that you're not worthy just because you're not as unhealthy thin as them."
Cocking your head to the side with Kal copying you, you looked at the actor, your fingers gliding through his dark locks. "Are you Henry now or are you Geralt? I mean your voice got deeper and I just...you know I can't resist you when you do that." 
"Oh is that so?" 
You nodded your head and a second later loud laugh left you when Henry lifted you and spun you around, soundly kissing your lips. 
***
"You don't need to be nervous, just stay with me and everything is okay." Nodding your head, your hand tightly clasped Henry's, the other laid on his arm, feeling the smooth fabric of his black suit under your skin. "I love you, darling, and you know Anya and Freya adore you like a sister."
"I do, it's just different from walking down the street in your shirt and my baggy sweats." you laughed, earning a chuckle from your boyfriend. 
He grinned down at you and released your hand, moving it behind your back to draw you into his side, your hands finding their way to his broad chest and back. "It is different because you look so fucking hot in this dress and I can't wait to get you home to show you how much it turns me on." 
Judging by his reaction you were glad you had opted for the light crystallized dress Henry's stylist had told you to wear because it really went well with your curvy figure. When you finally moved up on the red carpet the actor waved at the photographers before he leaned down and kissed you soundly on the lips, claiming you openly as his girlfriend. The reporters went wild, the clicking of the camera shutters and your own heartbeat rushed in your ears and you could faintly hear the delighted squeals of Freya, Anya and even Joey from beside you. Henry had done what he promised, he made it official and clear that you were his and he would do so until you would feel confident enough to be comfortable enough in your own wonderful body that he loved even more now.
Taglist
@meetmeinthematinee @ladyreapermc @axshadows @a-really-bi-girl @fanficsrusz @toomanystoriessolittletime  @pinkzsugar @lunaeminxxx @momorix3 @sallyp-53  @baphometwolf666 @mrspeacem1nusone @random806 @fuck-yeah-hope @wholelottatiffy @cap-just-said-language @theolsdalova @omg-imagine @rabbitpajamas @bohemianrhapsody86 @spookypeachx @radaofrivia @thekingstachemademedoit @coldmuffinpartycloud @auguswalker @fcgrizi @elixasays @heelsamizayn @maan24 @hell1129-blog @mary-ann84 @dancingwendigo @hcfavoritegal @theragegirl2015 @luclittlepond @agniavateira @onceiwasanun @shadycupcakefox @magdelen69 @hnryycvll @littlefreya @fortheloveoffanfic@alwayshave-faith @wondersofdreaming @iworshipkeanureeves @mylifefallingupthestairs @keiva1000 @dearlybelovedluke @palaiasaurus64 @fucking-hell-cavill @angelic-kisses13 @omgkatinka @rosewinx
506 notes · View notes
waitimcomingtoo · 5 years
Text
My Girl
First part
Masterlist
Requests are CLOSED
Tumblr media
“All done, baby?” Nikki asked you.
“Yes, it was delicious.” You complimented with your perfect manners. “Thank you for cooking.”
“I’ll get your plate!” Paddy announced, hopping off his chair to collect your plate and put it in the sink.
“What a little gentleman.” You commented. “Thanks, sweetheart.”
“So, Y/n, how long will you be in Kingston?” Dom asked politely.
“Well I’m off for the week, so I was planning on spending every minute I could with Tom before our schedules got hectic again.” You answered.
“Really? Why don’t the two of you stay here instead of commuting back and forth? You can spend the holiday with us.” Nikki offered.
“I mean, I wouldn’t want to impose.” You said.
“Nonsense.” Dom smiled. “You’re a part of the family now.”
“They’re not married, daddy.” Paddy said pointedly as he reclaimed his seat next to you.
“I feel like we are.” You gushed and squeezed Toms hand. Tom, who had been busy running through every possible worst case scenario of you staying in his childhood home with his brothers for a week, snapped back to attention.
“I feel like we are, too.” Tom smiled and leaned in for a kiss. Nikki sighed happily while Paddy gagged.
“If it’s not too much trouble, I’d love to stay here.” You said graciously. “I think that’d be great.”
“Then it’s settled.” Nikki grinned. Tom gave you a fake smile before wondering what he got himself into. “Let me go get the cake.”
And so, you moved into the Holland household for the week. To Tom, it seemed like Paddy was making it his mission in life to annoy him. Every second of every day was “Y/n, look at this!” or “Y/n, come see this.” Everyone else in the house found Paddy’s obvious crush to be adorable, and Tom did too at first. But adorable turned to annoying very fast. It was like Paddy was Tinkerbell, and would die if he didn’t constantly have your attention.
It started off with small things.
“Oops.” You mumbled as you knocked your fork off the counter.
“I got it!” Paddy rushed into the room and picked up your fork. You and Tom were eating breakfast alone and hadn’t even known Paddy was around. Paddy ran to the sink and held your fork under the faucet before returning it to you.
“Here you are.” Paddy said with a smile. You took the fork and gave him a sweet smile.
“Thanks, sweetie.” You cooed, making Paddy blush and give you a gentle nod.
“What are you doing up this early?” Tom questioned his brothers suspicious behavior. “I thought you didn’t wake up until four pm.”
“I do not.” Paddy shot back. “I’m always up early to help mum with the wash.”
“That’s just not true.” Tom said.
“That’s so sweet of you!” You gushed over the little boy. “You’re such a good son.”
“I try.” Paddy said suavely. “Tom still drops his wash off for mum to do.”
“That is…partially true.” Tom admitted. He did on occasion drop his laundry off for his mother to do. He gave Paddy a tight lipped smile. “Paddy, don’t you have homework to do?”
“No.” Paddy looked his bigger dead in the eye.
“Oh really? If I asked mum, would she say the same thing?” Tom asked.
“Fine.” Paddy grumbled, then shot you a smile. “Bye, Y/n.”
“Bye Y/n.” Tom mimicked once he’d left.
“Stop.” You playfully shoved Tom and popped a blueberry in your mouth. “He’s so cute.”
“He’s a little show off is what he is.” Tom huffed.
“Oh hush.” You elbowed Tom gently. “He just wants to make a good impression.”
“By trying to make me look bad.” Tom pointed out.
“Leave him be.” You ordered. “He just wants his big brothers girlfriend to like him. It’s normal.”
“It’s not normal. I know my brother, Y/n. If you keep being nice to him, he’s gonna fall in love with you.” Tom warned.
“Oh please.” You said. “He’s not gonna fall in love with me.”
“Alright. See for yourself.” Tom shrugged.
And in the end, you did see for yourself.
“Can someone get the toaster down for me?” You called to anyone who was listening. Your fingertips were just centimeters from it, but you couldn’t reach.
“I can do it!” Paddy hopped off his stool and dragged it over to where you were.
“Paddy, you’re like 3 feet tall.” Sam said, also getting up and going over to where you were.
“I have a stool.” Paddy deadpanned, gesturing to his stool.
“And I have 5 feet and 8 inches of pure british glory.” Sam remarked as he easily got the toaster down for you. “Here you go, love.” Sam smiled kindly, and shot a devious look at Paddy. Paddy was fuming. He practically had steam coming out of his ears.
“Thanks Sam.” You said gratefully and took out the English muffins.
“No problem, Y/n. Anytime.” He gave you a wink, and then stuck his tongue out at Paddy when you weren’t looking.
The rest of your time in the house followed in a similar fashion.
“Good morning everyone!” You chirped as you entered the kitchen. You took your new designated seat next to Tom and smiled at everyone at the table.
“You look really pretty today, Y/n.” Paddy spoke up, making Sam and Harry snicker and Tom roll his eyes.
“Thanks, Paddy.” You smiled and put your hand over your heart.
“Paddy”, Sam cleared his throat, “would you like some whip cream on that?”
“I’m eating eggs.” Paddy said dully.
“Don’t be silly, Sam,” Harry continued the act, “Paddy doesn’t need whip cream. He’s already whipped himself.”
“Very funny.” Paddy rolled his eyes as Sam and Harry made whipping motions. You just smiled and looked to Tom.
“Are you ready to leave after breakfast, love?” Tom asked, desperate to change to subject.
“Yep.” You nodded and pressed your lips to his, which he happily accepted. Paddy sucked his teeth and looked up at the ceiling.
“Where is the happy couple going today?” Harry said deviously.
“To the mall.” Tom answered and wrapped his arms around your shoulders.
“The mall? Can I come with you guys?” Paddy perked up.
“Nope.” Tom said, popping the p.
“Tom.” You scolded. You turned to Paddy and gave him an apologetic smile. “I’m sorry, sweetheart. We need some alone time as a couple.”
“Oh okay. I understand.” Paddy nodded and sighed dramatically. “I wouldn’t want me around either.”
Tom saw right through his act and stared at him with squinted eyes. You, on the other hand, felt guilt pang your heart. You looked at Tom, silently asking him to allow Paddy to tag along. Tom shook his head violently, and you pulled on arm. He didn’t give in, and just kept shaking his head.
“You know what?” You said through a forced smile and eyes that told Tom to behave. “Sure. You can come.”
“I can?” Paddy said happily.
“He can?” Tom asked you with a raised eyebrow.
“Why not? We can go out to dinner later, just to two of us.” You suggested. Tom reluctantly nodded his head and gave Paddy a fake smile.
“Sure. He can come.” Tom said, shooting Paddy the death stare for crashing his date.
After breakfast, you all walked to the car, Paddy running ahead.
“I’ll get that for you.” Paddy opened the passenger door for you gave you cheeky smile.
“Thanks Paddy.” You replied and climbed inside.
It was like that the entire day. You didn’t touch a single door handle all day.
“After you.” Paddy opened the door to yet another store and gestured for you to walk inside.
“Why thank you.” You smiled gratefully and ruffled his hair as you passed through the door. Tom was about to go through the door as well, but Paddy was hot on your trails and shut the door in Toms face. Tom felt jealously bubble in his tummy, no matter how dumb the situation was. He should be the one opening your doors. And he would be, if Paddy didn’t put his little raccoon hands (I’m so sorry) on your door handles before Tom ever got a chance.
You spent most of the time talking to Paddy and getting to know him. You didn’t ignore Tom on purpose, but Paddy made it impossible to have a moment alone. Normally, Tom would be thrilled by the girl he loved getting along so well with his family. But Paddy was driving him crazy. He was always around you like a pesky bug. Tom knew you were too kind to tell Paddy to go away, and he could only hope his little brother wasn’t bothering you.
“I can carry your bags.” Paddy announced as you made your way out of the final store.
“Oh you don’t have-“ you began. Paddy didn’t listen, and took all your shopping bags into his hands. They were a little too heavy for him, making Tom laugh, but Paddy refused to let it show. He carried them all the way to the car, even managing to open your door with his arms full. Tom drove you all home in silence, feeling the jealousy bubbling inside him again. It was unreasonable to be jealous of his kid brothers relationship with his girlfriend. It’s not like anything could possibly happen between you two. If it were Harry or Sam, his feelings would be justified. But Paddy was just a kid. Tom kept telling himself this as Paddy told you yet another story to impress you.
“Thanks for all your help today, sweetheart.” You smiled as you all entered the house, after Paddy the door open for you yet again. Paddy gave you a proud smile and nodded. Toms eyes shifted between the two of you, dying to roll his eyes. To Toms surprise, you bent down and kissed Paddy on his cheek. Paddy’s face burned under your lips, and you heard a gasp escape him. He touched his fingertips to where your lips had been and a grin lit up his freckled face.
Tom bit the inside of his cheek, not wanting to explode on you in front of his brothers.
He could wait. He could wait.
“What’s wrong?” Harry snorted, walking into the living room just in time to see what was going on. “Haven’t you been kissed by a girl before?”
“No.” Paddy said quickly. He hadn’t.
“You’re 15 and never kissed a girl?” Harry continued to taunt his younger brother. “I kissed a hundred girls by that age.” He also hadn’t.
“Leave him alone.” You commanded playfully. “It’s okay, Paddy. I didn’t have my first kiss until I was 17.”
“Thanks, Y/n.” Paddy said, before running away in embarrassment. Harry also left, leaving you alone with Tom.
“What just happened?” Tom asked, unable to hide his feelings.
“Relax.” You’d aid sweetly. “That was my way of telling him that I appreciate his sweet gestures, but he’s just a little brother to me. He gets it.”
“No.” Tom laughed bitterly. “He won’t get it. If anything, you just solidified his fantasy that you two are gonna end up together.”
“He doesn’t actually think that.” You dismissed, still in denial. “He knows I’m too old for him. And besides, he’d never try to take his brothers girlfriend.”
“Wanna bet?” Tom asked.
“Just wait, Tommy.” You said assuredly. “By tomorrow, he’ll be over his crush.
He wasn’t.
The next day, you were lying on the couch, being the big spoon to Tom as an episode of New Girl played. The episode had just ended, and the credits were rolling across the screen.
“Y/n, do you want to play the PS4 with me?” Paddy asked as he entered the room. He had two controllers in his hands and a hopeful look in his eyes.
“Sure thing, sweetheart.” You said, struggling to sit up since Tom was lying on top of your arm.
“But,” Tom protested with a pout, “cuddles?”
“We can cuddle later, lover.” You promised with a kiss to his cheek.
“You’re seriously leaving me to go play a video game with Paddy?” Tom asked, a little sharply.
“I want your family to like me.” You said so only Tom would hear. Tom nodded in reluctant agreement and let you get up. He sighed as he watched you follow Paddy into the other room. Paddy was making it impossible to spend any time with you. The week was falling away and Tom felt like he never saw you, and the times he did see you, Paddy was right at your heels like a puppy. He decided this was the last time his brother got in the way of his time with you.
“Why don’t we spend the day together? Just the two of us?” Tom said the next day as he wrapped his arms around your waist while you were stood in front of the kitchen counter.
“Shoot, sorry baby. I promised Paddy I’d watch him do tricks at the skatepark.” You said with an apologetic pout. Tom felt his blood boil at yet another blow off.
“Why did you promise him that? He’s not even good.” He huffed, making your eyes widen as you giggled.
“He just wants to impress me.” You turned around in his arms and wrapped your arms around his neck. “It’s cute. Let him be happy.”
“Y/n, you don’t get it.” Tom sighed. “He’s genuinely in love with you. And pretty soon, he’s gonna think he actually has a chance.”
“Don’t be ridiculous. He’s 15. I’m 23. He knows he’s just a little brother to me.” You reiterated, making Tom rolled his eyes at your innocence.
“I’m telling you, Y/n. You have no idea what you’re getting yourself into.” Tom said.
“I think I’ll be okay.” You said with a kiss to Toms lips. He sighed. He didn’t want to spend the few moments he had with you fighting about Paddy.
“I’m sorry.” He said quietly. “I just miss you. I never get to see you without him being right there.”
“Tell you what.” Your eyes glistened in the way Tom loved. “I’ll say I’m gonna hang with Daya tomorrow, so I can’t hang out with him. You can meet me at the mall and we can spend the day together. Paddy won’t try to tag along if he thinks I’m gonna be with my friend.”
“When did you get so devious?” Tom asked with a satisfied smirk.
“Ew.” Paddy interrupted your moment with a gag. “I’m pretty sure we have a “no snogging in the kitchen” rule.” He said while glaring at Tom.
The next day, Tom kept a neutral face as he waited for your text telling him to meet you at that mall.
“Hey, wheres your girlfriend?” Harry asked casually as he bit into an apple.
“She’s at-“ Tom began.
“Not you.” Harry waved his hand dismissively. “I was talking to Paddy.”
“She’s at the mall with Zendaya, probably getting another one of those pretty sweaters she wears.” Paddy rattled off.
“And how do you know all that?” Tom asked, a little creeped out at the detail.
“She told me about the mall and Zendaya. The sweater part is just a theory.” Paddy replied.
“Paddy, you don’t actually think you have a chance with this girl, do you?” Harry asked. Tom was relived someone was finally asking.
“I don’t know.” Paddy said, looking at the floor.
“You don’t know?” Tom repeated, shocked that the answered wasn’t a straight “no.” like it should’ve been.
“Yeah. I don’t know.” Paddy said again.
“Well you should.” Tom said assertively, finally losing his cool. “Paddy, she’s my girlfriend. And one day, she’ll be my wife. This isn’t like when we were kids anymore. This is real life and she’s my real girlfriend. You said you would respect that.”
“But she might fancy me back.” Paddy protested with a red face. “She kissed my cheek the other day. And she said I was really good at skateboarding.”
“Oh, so she’s a liar?” Harry cut in.
“No. She’s not a liar.” Paddy defended you, getting genuinely angry now. “She’s perfect.”
“She is.” Tom sighed, seeing that his brother was getting upset and shifting into big brother mode. “She is perfect. But she’s also 8 years older than you and thinks of you as a little brother.”
“Did she say that?” Paddy asked quietly. Tom knelt don’t next to him. He knew Paddy’s feelings of rejection were more important than his own feelings of jealousy. It wasn’t time to fight. It was time to be a good big brother.
“Many times. She loves you, Paddy.” Tom assured him. “But as a brother. Not the way she loves me, and not the way you love her.”
“Oh.” Paddy said softly, looking at his shoes.
“Do you want to come to the mall with me? She’s gonna be there.” Tom offered an olive branch to his brother.
“I thought she was gonna be with Zendaya.” Paddy wondered.
“Zendaya couldn’t make it.” Tom lied. “Why don’t you tag along? She said she misses you.”
“Did she really?” Paddy’s eyes lit up.
“No.” Tom thought.
“Yep.” Tom said. “Go get dressed. I’ll be in the car.”
Paddy ran out of the kitchen and into his room. Tom smiled to himself, pleased with his decision to take the high road. He shot you a quick text to let you know what was going on, and to his satisfaction, you were pleased too.
Tag List 🏷
@maybemona @sunrise-shawn @meghan-8520xx @writing-for-hours-on-end @lavender-writer @captainmandeestudent17
3K notes · View notes
babi-correia · 4 years
Text
Guardian Angel
Words: 3083
Pairing: Greg “Mouse” Gerwitz x Reader
Warnings: Mentions of death, drug abuse, poorly written medical stuff and PTSD.
From Anon:
“Hi there, can I get a Greg Gerwitz x reader, please? So reader and Jay are cousins and when Jay enlists, he starts writing about his friend Mouse so reader when sending care packages will always include things for Mouse and when Jay came back for his mum's funeral, Mouse came with and he falls for reader and vice versa but remained friends while he's in the rangers still. When he was discharged and eventually involved in some shady shit, it was the reader who gets him back on track. Thank you x”
Here you go, kind friend.
[(Y/N/N)=Your Nickname]
Tumblr media
One thing you knew for sure: nothing in your life could have possibly prepared you for the moment when your cousin, Jay, had been deployed to Afghanistan. His mother, your own mother's sister, was devastated, but his father had shown nothing but anger and disapproval at his career choice, as he had with Will. It seemed like no matter what, the man would never approve or support either of his sons, and it annoyed you to no end. So, logically, when he went away you took it upon yourself to make sure he knew that at least one person back home cared about him and wasn't completely repealing him. 
He mentions his friend and teammate Greg Gerwitz in one of his first letters, as Jay had taken to personally protect Greg, as he was a very valuable communications expert; although you could read right through that Jay began projecting himself as an older brother for Greg, who he affectionately called "Mouse". From Jay's reaction, you gather that Greg probably didn't have that much of a support network back home, or any at all, other than Jay, so you include him as well in your silly little personal mission.
The first care package goes out a month into their deployment, filled with energy bars, sunblock, beef jerky, some pain-relieving topical cream, and deodorant, along with a picture of you, your mom, and Jay's mom holding a sign saying "Counting the days for the two of you to be back". It finds them well, and Jay's letter is full of little round wrinkly spots when you open it, its' content nothing but praise for the care package. He writes that Greg cried like a baby when Jay told him that the packed box was for the both of them and not just him. 
--
When you have to write to Jay about his mom's illness, it breaks you. Your whole purpose with the letters and care packages was to brighten their mood, often including bad jokes you had happened to hear and you knew they would get a kick out of because of how bad they were. But you had to tell him. You end up rewriting the letter more times than you cared to count, searching for the best way to say "hey, your mom's dying". This time, it's your letter that's filled with little round wrinkly spots when you seal the envelope. 
Jay's response takes its' time, and comes right in the week of your exams. Between helping your aunt and studying to get a decent internship, you were left with very little time to do anything else other than sleep and eat. You put a hold on the anatomy book you're studying, deciding to pick it up after you prepare everything to do with Jay and Greg, refusing to let them go without a letter or care package. You fill the letter with crappy jokes and complaints about how dumb you were to want to become a doctor, because clearly, the exams were driving you mad. You try to put some hope in the letter, saying that Jay's mom looks better than before. 
--
The next month makes you nearly drop out. Your aunt's condition worsens too fast for there to be anything left to do, and you have to be the one to let Jay know that his mom died because dear old Pat could still not be bothered to talk to his son. 
You manage to catch one of your dad's old army buddies, one who is still in the military, and make him pull some strings to get both Jay and Greg back in US soil for the funeral. 
You pick them up at the airport, noticing how thinner Jay is, how his face looks so sunken, how he looks almost broken. He barely has time to drop his duffle bag before you wrap him in a hug as tight as you can give. He hugs you back before backing away and wiping his eyes.
"(Y/N), this is Mouse. Mouse, this is (Y/N), the angel that has been sending us goodies." Jay introduces. Greg goes to shake your hand but you hug him, feeling him reluctantly hug you back. 
"I wish we had met under better circumstances." You say to Greg, pulling away from a hug and giving him a tired smile. "We should get back, you can still catch the wake, Jay."
The car ride is silent, and you can't find it in you to say anything at all. You pull up to the mortuary house, parking the car and taking a deep breath. 
"You want me to go in with you?" You ask, seeing how Jay is looking out the window. 
"No, I think it's better if I go in alone." He says before pausing. "Is Pat in there?"
"No. We haven't seen much of Pat lately." You admit, knowing Jay knew how much you despised his father.
He exits the car and you sit in silence, Greg still in the back seat. It takes a while before he breaks the ice.
"So... Jay tells me you want to be a doctor?" He asks meekly, his eyes on everything but you. 
"I do. I'm about to start my residency, hopefully at a big hospital like Chicago Med." You say, the usual excitement that comes paired with your passion and the opportunity to talk about it significantly dulled. 
"What's your expertise?"
"I'm going for trauma surgery." You say, turning around in your seat to face Greg. 
His heart skips a beat when his eyes finally meet yours. No one in his life had ever looked at him with the sheer kindness you did. He had grown a crush on you without knowing you at all, and seeing you look at him like that only reinforced it. 
"Look, I just want to say thank you for including me in the care packages." He manages, breaking eye contact and looking at his hands, which rest atop his knees. He can barely mask the gasp he makes when you put one of your hands over one of his and give him a reassuring squeeze. 
"It's my pleasure." You say, greeting him with a smile when he finally looks at you again. "I enjoy doing it, and it makes me feel better about the whole deployment situation that I can at least give you guys something to brighten your day."
Over the next couple of days, you just chat your mind out to Greg and read your medicine books to him, sometimes making him quiz you on the subjects. He generally looks confused, but he also seems happy to help you. It makes him giddy on the inside to see how much you know about whatever he's quizzing you about, and the focused yet excited look on your face makes his heart flutter. It's only during the night before they fly back that he realizes: he's head over heels for you.
You wake up ridiculously early the morning of their flight; well, you don't wake up, you just get out of bed, because sleep had ever so expertly evaded you due to your overthinking of what would happen to Jay and Greg back in Afghanistan. Your mind keeps racing, running multiple scenarios but not seeing a positive outcome in none of them. And even though of course you worried deeply about Jay, since he was your cousin and you two grew up together, your stomach twisted in itself at the thought of Greg getting hurt. 
You slowly realize that you had begun to harbor feelings for the man, and your mind reels. You hide your face on your hands as you try to process everything before you give up and go out to sit in your back yard and stare at the sky. 
You take them to the airport at around 5 am, the drive there being awfully silent. You feel the tears prickling at your eyes as you drive the car and grip the steering wheel with everything you have. You could tell Greg about how you felt, but you couldn't handle the fact that he was going back when he was barely your friend, much less if you uncovered your feelings. Besides, nothing guarantees you that he would like you back, so you decide to keep your mouth shut. 
You bid your goodbyes and hug the two men outside the airport, your hug with Greg taking a little longer than it should - not that he seemed to mind. They head inside and you return to your car, sitting behind the wheel and crying all of your emotions out. When you look back to maneuver your car, you notice something glinting in the back seat and pick it up. The small metal plate is cold in your hand, and you notice a little post-it attached. 
"Thank you for caring so much about someone you know so little about. Please don't forget about me."
You turn it around and see the engraving: Gregory Gerwitz. Tears well up in your eyes again, and you hold the dog-tag to your chest, closing your eyes.
--
You keep sending them letters and care packages as part of your routine, sometimes struggling to get time to do it. You had managed to land your internship on Med, and they liked you enough to keep you around as an ED doctor. 
On your day off, just as you're about to head off into the grocery shop to gather goodies for the next care package, your doorbell rings and you open the door to find your supposedly deployed cousin.
"Jay!?" Your voice is squeaky, but you can't find it in you to care. "What are you doing here?" 
You hug him carefully, noticing some cuts and bruises on his face and arms. He hugs you back and lifts you slightly. 
"I was medically discharged a few weeks ago, I've been crashing at a friend's but I owed you to come here." He explains as you guide him inside. "Also, I need your help with something."
"What's wrong?" You ask, sitting beside him on the couch. He points at your chest, where the dog tag rests, hanging from a simple chain. 
"It's about Mouse. He isn't taking it well and I'm afraid he's going to do something that's gonna hurt him." Jay sighs. "He really likes you, but he doesn't think of himself as deserving of someone that cares about him and wants to help."
"Where can I find him?" You ask, feeling your chest tightening. 
"Not even I know that, but as soon as I find out I'll let you know." He stays, prompting himself to get up. "By the way, I'm in the police academy and it'd mean a lot to me if you could attend my graduation in a few months."
"Of course!" You beam at him before hugging him. "Just let me know when, and I'll ask for the day off."
--
After your conversation with Jay, you can't bring yourself to stop thinking about Greg and how he's doing. One day, you're getting in your car to get home after a shift when you get a call from Jay.
"Yes?" You answer your phone.
"(Y/N), I need you to come to your house quickly." Jay's voice seems distressed. "It's Greg, I have no idea what happened."
You make the drive back in record time, grabbing the emergency medical kit from under the passenger seat before rushing inside. You notice Jay has used the spare key you gave him to get inside, finding him and Greg on the floor of your bathroom. 
Your heart drops and you join them on the floor, quickly assessing Greg; his skin is cold and clammy, his breathing and heart rate slow, and he seems to be slipping in and out of consciousness. 
"He's overdosing on opioids." You realize aloud, quickly opening your medical kit and retrieving a small vial and a syringe. Jay watches you as you charge the syringe and push out the air before administering it. 
"What is that?" He asks, watching as you set the syringe on the bathroom counter.
"Naloxone. It reverses opioid overdoses, technically." You say, observing Greg's reaction. "We have to get him to a hospital, Jay."
"No, that may screw whatever little chance he still has at getting a job." 
You shake your head as you move your hand to gage Greg's heart rate, noticing it seemed to pick up a bit.
"Let's see how he progresses. If I don't like anything in how he develops, I'm taking him to the hospital, and that's not debatable." You state, moving behind Greg and sitting him up, noticing as he begins to shiver. You lean his back against your chest as he begins to move slightly. "Stay still for a bit, Greg. Please."
You feel him tense up, his breathing labored. He looks at Jay, who shakes his head.
"I don't know what's going on Mouse, but you need to get it together." Jay says, his face serious as he gets up. "I have to get to the academy, but I'll come by later."
You hear the front door shut as Jay leaves, and just sit on the floor in silence for a while. 
"What's going on, Greg?" You ask, your voice barely a whisper. He feels his chest tightening at your sad and defeated tone. This was exactly why he didn't want to come to you, he was a broken man and he knew you'd be disappointed in him. "Why didn't you ask for help?"
He doesn't even have a chance to respond before he scrambles forward and wretches into the toilet. You just brush your hand up and down his back, feeling him shake as he starts to cry. 
You wet a towel and run it through his face to wipe the sweat gathering on his forehead. You hook your arms around his chest and help him rise to his feet, supporting most of his weight. 
"Can you work with me and get to the living room? We'll be more comfortable there." You ask softly, holding him up and helping him move to the living room. You sit him down on the couch and take a seat next to him, wiping some hair sticking to his forehead. You take one of his hands in yours, and his heart just about shatters when he sees the look you give him: it's still the same pure kindness from the first time the two of you met. 
"I didn't want to disappoint you." His voice is barely a whisper, and your brows knit in confusion. "I'm not the same person from when we first met, I've gone down a dark path, I didn't want to disappoint you or get you involved."
"Greg, you'd never disappoint me." You say, your voice soft. "It's normal, it's a whole different reality. I'm here to help you however I can."
You hug him and cradle him against your chest, his arms snaking around you to hold as tight as he can. 
"I'm sorry, I'm so sorry." He mumbles, his voice shaking. You rest your chin atop his head and caress his back as he keeps on trembling. "I should've come to you sooner, I should have told you about everything a lot sooner." 
"All that matters is that you're ok, Greg." You whisper, holding him. "We can work on this from now on. You're not alone."
--
You end up offering Greg the spare bedroom on your house, on the condition that he must stay clean and out of trouble, and at least try to get a legitimate job. 
One day you get home after working a double shift, your head pounding and your emotions all over the place: you had lost a patient. You know that there wasn't anything you could have done, but that doesn't make you feel less shitty. Entering the house, you make a beeline for the living room and flop face-first into the couch, laying there for a while without moving.
"Hey (Y/N/N), you ok?" You hear Greg's voice as he kneels next to you. You turn your head to face him and he sees the tears in your eyes. "Woah, what's wrong?"
"I lost a patient today. Nice old lady, came in because she slipped and fell on the icy street, hit her head pretty nastily. She was talking when she got there, but then she passed out and just like that she was gone." You vent, tears streaming down your face. Greg holds your hand and rubs it softly. "I just wish there had been something I could have done for her."
"You have a heart of gold, you know that?" He says, pushing some hair out of your face. "You can't save everyone... Just cherish the ones you did save, like me for example."
He always jokes around about you saving him, but it was the truth; without you, he'd probably be dead in an alley somewhere. 
"I think it's mutual saving." You whisper, smiling at him. "I would probably have gone mad by now if you weren't around."
You maneuver yourself and sit normally on the couch, and he sits next to you, pulling you into a hug. 
"It's a nice little deal we have, then." He says, holding you to him. You nod, eventually separating from him. "I still think you're my private guardian angel."
You laugh at him, and his belief solidifies further: to him, you were exactly like an angel, from your laugh to your personality to your selflessness, and you had given him a second chance at life. 
Before either of you realize what's going on, he leans in and cups your face, resting his forehead against yours. You can feel his breath on your face as you take in the beautiful blueness of his eyes. 
"If you don't want it, say so." He whispers, his eyes riddled with both fear and excitement. Your heart beats out of your chest as you close the space between you and kiss him, feeling him smile against your lips. It's short and chaste and sweet, but it's everything you had imagined. "You have no idea how long I've been waiting for that."
You laugh, cupping his face as you kiss him again, the two of you giggling like a pair of kids and forgetting everything else in the world other than the moment that you were having.
136 notes · View notes
scottfuckingreed · 4 years
Text
On one condition - Montgomery De La Cruz
-
ANONYMOUS SAID: ‘MontyxOc where she and her family go on their annual vacation resort and begs her parents to let Monty come with! They agree on the condition they stay in separate rooms... At night when her parents are sleeping they sneak out their rooms and go have a little fun in/at the pool😉’
-
Warnings!: includes swearing and a bit of smut! And it’s kinda cute? Idk
-
Let me tell you, you see some disgusting and baffling shit when you’re friends with boys. Sure, girls can be gross too, but male jocks are a different breed. My eyes scan through every guy at the table.
Starting with Bryce Walker opposite me. One of, if not the most, popular guy in school. His girlfriend Chloe sit on his lap with their tongues down each other’s throat. I get it. We get it! They really like each other. But PDA overload!
Next to them is Zach Dempsey. He’s the sort of guy who’d eat food that’s just been in someone else’s mouth. I guess that’s not the worst thing to do. He’s definitely not very clever at all, but he’s cute. Kat once described him as the sweet kind of dumb. And that pretty much explains the boy to a tee.
Then we have Marcus Cole. There’s something I really don’t like, almost despise, about that guy. I usually aim on not looking at him, because I can’t fake nice to him. He’s extremely confident. Maybe the problem is that he’s borderline- no. He’s one cocky mother fucker. I’m sorry, I just really don’t like anything about him. Not one thing. And that concludes the opposite side of the table.
My side, the superior side I might add, starts with Scott Reed on my right. Talk about a sweet guy. I believe he’s possibly the purest person around this table. His morals are just: correct. Out of this table, he’s one of the other 3 people I’d actually ‘hang out’ with. I’d hang out with Chloe too.
Leaving our final guy. My guy to be precise. Monty. Montgomery De La Cruz. Don’t get me wrong, he does some gross things too. For some reason it’s automatically a little attractive when he does it. The way he eats, the way he smells, even the way he breathes is just... I’m in awe 24/7. I’m sure you’ve heard of him as the bully or the dick or just a complete asshole, but that’s not him. Sure he messes around with people. He’s actually a really nice guy.
That just leaves me; Brooklyn Fox. I live a very average life with average parents. My mum is a nurse and my dad is a lecturer. Everything is plain and simple. I get quite good grades and I have decent friends. My parents, however, don’t agree on all of them. Monty and I have been dating for about a year and a half. They really didn’t approve of him at first, but I’d say they’re warming. Very slowly. Maybe they just say they don’t like him to tease me. Probably not, but we’ll get there!
Once a week, pretty much, Bryce holds a house party. I don’t know how he got so lucky as to have parents that fly to a different state one after another! This weeks was going to be ‘the best yet’. Which - of course - he says every week. I’d be lying if I said they weren’t the best parties in the school. Actually, no one else really throws parties. No one needs to when everyone goes to Bryce’s.
“Who’s bringing drinks?” Chloe smiles all excited. I smile her way, drinking my apple juice carton. “It’s your party dude,” Zach taps Bryce on the shoulder roughly. “Come on, you guys can bring something! Stop being fucking leeches,” he laughs, putting his lips on Chloe’s cheek. They’re actually cute. “I can pick up some beers,” the huskiness of my boyfriend’s voice makes me smile stupidly to myself. His tone always sounds so unbothered. I don’t even know why he goes most of the time. Wrapping arms around his, I subtly shuffle myself closer. His warmth. He doesn’t turn my way, but his response is to cup the inside of my thigh with his manly hands. I’m not sure if it seems over protective or needy, but I cross my leg over his hand.
“Brooke!” Two small, crispy fries fly my way. My eyes gaze back over to Chloe. “What are you bringing?” Here we go. I’m gonna get shit. I look up to Monty, who’s eyes were already on me, and press my lips together into a smile. “I’m actually not coming,” I show my clenched teeth. All the boys’, and Chloe’s, faces drop. “What?” “But this is gonna be the best party of the year Brooke...” Bryce says slowly, making sure his words were heard. “I know,” I shake my head. “I’ve actually got my annual vacation with my parents,” I sigh. There’s not technically wrong with going away with my parents. It’s been a tradition since as long as I can remember. There’s a cabin a few hours away. It’s all cute and cosy. Perfect for any time of the year. We like to switch up the seasons. This year it just happens to be at the end of the school year. ‘A treat’ my mum would call it. I think they just like to get me away from these high school parties. “That sucks,” Scott nudges my arm with his, making me turn to him and smile. “What’s little Monty gonna do without his little girlfriend?!” Marcus fake worries. I shut my eyes for a second to quickly roll them into the back of my head. “Don’t worry Cruz-y, we’ll keep you company!” Bryce answers. Not exactly the most settling response.
Monty and I walk the shopping isles one by one. Although the party isn’t for a few days, it’s best to just get it over and done with. “Baby, can you help me get this down?” He’s a good few inches taller than me. “You can get it,” he smirks, crossing his arms and watching he stretch to get to the top shelf. I stick my bottom lip out. “You’re such a dick,” I whisper, walking to him until our bodies are pretty much touching. “Okay, but just because you’re cute,” his muscly arms wrap around just under my ass, lifting me up to get my favourite packet of crisps. They could’ve put them on a lower fucking shelf! Once I grab them, he pretty much drops me to the ground. “Hey, I liked it up there,” his eyebrows raise, and I immediately know what’s coming. “That’s what she said,” he whispers seductively into my ear. I can’t help but smile massively and shake my head at the childish boy. “Come on then, get on my back.”
My arms looped around his neck area, and my head leans lightly on my arms. When he finally get to the liquor isle, he puts me back down. Once again, his face just look unimpressed as he passes me a crate of beers to carry. “Do you have to go with your parents? I could stay with you at your house for the weekend,” blushing, I imagine how nice it would be. The house to ourselves? My parents not poking around checking that we’re not doing anything? Paradise. “I’d love that, but you know my parents won’t let me,” I grunt. I trust Monty with my entire being. I know he’d never cheat on me or anything like that. Who I don’t trust is Bryce and pretty much anyone else. I trust Scott actually. He’s an angel. “You get to party with your buddies and get shitfaced,” I try and sound enthusiastic. I failed. The way he smiles at me settles me every time. It’s always with bright eyes and bright teeth. And then it hits me. The best idea I could have.
“Honey, no,” my mum shakes her head at my suggestion. We sit around the dinner table, me one side and my parents the other. I’m aware they seem strict. They’re not. It’s just... they don’t trust Monty. “You’re not bringing your boyfriend on the family trip, Brooklyn. It’s as simple as that,” my dad says ‘firmly’. “He’s called Monty, and maybe you’d like him if you actually got to know him?” My statement comes out quite sassily. “We know him,” The thing is they’ve met Monty a few times. They’ve never had full conversations, not one that’s lasted more than a minute long. All they know is what they’ve heard. And majoritively not from me. I throw my head back in slight defeat. “Then I’m not going,” stroppy? Definitely. But if there’s anything I know about my parents it’s that they’d do anything to keep me going on this trip. “Don’t be silly Brooke,” my dad laughs with a hint of disbelief. “We’ve been together for over a year! Can’t you just give him a chance?” My fingers interlock with each other, smiling as wide as I can. As the silence goes on for more than 10 seconds, I can see them actually thinking about it. Their heads turn to each other, and back to me, then back to look in each other’s eyes. “Fine, but on one condition...”
“We just have to sleep separately!” I whisper-squeal excitedly on the phone. The silence makes me imagine his growing grin. I slowly lick my lips in anticipation. “Not even in the same room?” He asks slowly. “No, but, well... pleeeeeeaaaaase?” I beg through the phone. The fact that they’ve even compromised is a first. “Do you understand how much a begged for this shit?” I shuffle around in my bed. My hearts racing with excitement. Just imagine it. My parents actually getting alone with him?! We could play board games and sit around a fire together. The thought of them accepting him as my boyfriend just sounds too good to be true. “But Bryce’s party,” he fake sighs. My mouth drops in immediate offence. “Well, fuck you,” “You won’t be able to because we’ll be in separate rooms,” my cheeks grow in heat at the speed of his response. “Fine, if you accompany me and my family on our lovely vacation I will...” I try and think on the spot. As if my room would have any ideas, I look around. About 10 seconds go by of me humming. “Come on Brooklyn! Bryce’s party’s looking so good right now,” come on Brooklyn! “I will...” I pause again. No time. “Give you a blowjob.” I let out in a whisper. It’s only an ever so slight pause until, “deal!”
I hear the horn of Monty’s jeep outside. “He can come in, you know,” my mum smiles. Frowning slightly with a smile, I pick up my bag. Maybe I should’ve started forcing Monty on them from the beginning, but I’m sure it would’ve just made things worse. Am I ready for it? This weekend will confirm yes or no I guess. “You can hang with Monty all weekend,” my words come out slow and nervous. Fuck, what have I done?
“Hey baby,” he immediately leans in for a kiss. How would my parents not like him? He’s sweet. He’s quite the gentleman too. “Is everything okay?” He starts the engine and drives ahead. “I’m just thinking about this weekend, I’m a little nervous,” I shuffle in my seat, bringing my leg up and hugging my knee close. “You’re nervous? I’m not,” He’s quite good at covering his facial expressions sometimes. The way he slightly buffs out his chest just screams confidence. Or arrogance maybe... “I can’t tell if you’re joking...” Monty pauses at a stop sign, and turns to me for a second. “Brooklyn, of course I’m joking. I’m fucking shitting myself,” my bottom lip flies out. “That’s so cute,” I mutter. “Okay, you can stop that,” he always says he hates it, but I see the small turn of his lips when I say stuff like that. “I’ll take care of you Montgomery!” My smile gleams at him. If he’s nervous, I need to not be nervous. It’ll be fine? Wait, that’s wrong. It’ll be fine!
English. None of my ‘close friends’ are in my class, so I usually sit near Justin Foley. I always thought talking to him would be awkward, since he’s Bryce’s ex-best friend and all, but it’s actually not. He takes a seat next to me, and I smile massively at him. “You’re looking extremely happy today, it’s only English?” He chuckles slowly. Next to him sits Clay. I don’t think Clay likes me. He doesn’t speak much to be honest. “I’m average,” shrugging, I watch as Justin tilts his head. Clay gives a look of ‘I don’t care’. “I’m just going away with my parents this weekend. Monty’s coming.” the way Justin contained his eye roll is impressive, and rather funny. Clay doesn’t hide a thing. “You’re actually the only person I’ve seen mellow Monty down. You might actually be good for him,” Justin’s words make Clay scoff. “Yeah right...” he mutters. “You’re so positive Clay, I love it.”
At lunch we sit in the exact same ordering and everything. I guess it’s always just been this way. It feels weird otherwise. Monty’s hand sit on my knee, his thumb rubbing lines from left to right. In the corner of my eye, I see him slowly reach for one of my chips. My smile widens as he gets closer. “You can have one you know, you don’t have to be slick,” I giggle. And he takes about 5. “Hey!” I tap the top of his hand before he shoves them all into his mouth. “I’ll make it up to you,” with his mouth full, he winks. I’m sure I saw food fly out. I lift my right hand over his mouth, covering the awful sight. “Gross,” I whisper. I do question Monty’s flirting sometimes. Often, actually. Looking at him, I kind of get lost in his eyes. Even when he’s a disgusting mess like this. “As long as you don’t do that this weekend, we should be fine.” I take Monty’s hand into mine, intertwining fingers. Am I more nervous than he is? “Woah,” and pause “Woahwoahwoahwoahwoahwoah!” I turn my head towards Bryce who was waving his arm around as he spoke. “You’re coming to the party, right?” Sometimes, just sometimes, I feel like Bryce has some sort of hold on Monty. They’re friends, that’s cool. They’re pretty much best friends I know. But I know Monty would do anything for Bryce. After all, they’re ‘brothers’. “Shit no, sorry man.” Is all Monty says.
I meet up with Monty after our final lessons. “Hey, how’d it go with Bryce?” I swoop my hand into his, cupping it with my other. “He’s a bit pissed actually...” he says slowly, which low key breaks me. I sigh to myself, not really knowing what to say. That’s not my intention. “He’ll get over it,” he shrugs.
Collecting my thoughts, there’s a little silence until we get to his car. Seatbelts; clipped in. Ready to go. “Did he say what he was specifically mad about or..?” Now I’m gonna be ‘that girl’ who broke up a friendship. Could you imagine? News like that travels fast. Faster than fast. That shit would zoom through everything. “He basically said that he expected me there or some shit. I stopped listening to be honest,” and he drives out of the parking space. I refuse to believe this. This sounds way too good to be true. “Well... you can stay, obviously, for the party if you want.” A very brief smile appears on his face. It takes him a second to answer. You could say it was him concentrating on his driving, but this guy never fucking concentrates on his driving. “So you wouldn’t be mad if I stayed..?” He asks slowly. I can see the disbelief in his face. “No.” I’d be furious. I swear if this boy actually accepts this shit. “I guess I’ll stay for the party then,” he shrugs. “Could you text Bryce for me?” Without looking at it, he takes his phone out of a cup holder and hands it to me... straight faced. I pause for a second. “Are you serious?” I let out in an angry whisper. This fucking- “Yes- no...” I see him question which is the answer he meant. “Let’s see... would I rather get wasted at a party where I don’t wanna be? Or should I go away with my beautiful girlfriend and her family?” My red furied face instantly turns to an enormous blush. “I think I’m gonna choose to be with my girl?” Fuck. Maybe he’s not so hypnotised by Bryce. I’m over the fucking moon, but I still hit the guy on the side of his arm. “As cute as that is, you’re a dick,” I threaten him. “But an incredibly sexy dick?” Yes. Yes indeed. “Whatever.” His hand reaches over and rests on my knee. My insides twist and turn in such a way that I feel like the first time I saw him. Gross, I know. “Just so you know, you can call me your girl literally whenever you want.”
Trip Day!
The clock reads 09:30. My brain doesn’t even want to function. Not until I realise what today is. Fuck. That explains why I’ve already received 3 texts and a missed call from Monty. “Montgomery,” I answer this call pretty much as soon as it rings, and closed my eyes. I’m so fucking tired. “Good morning. What’s the plan for today?” Straight to the point? Okay boy. “Well I’m sleeping right now, but I should probably pack my bag I guess,” Have I left it a little late to pack? Absolutely. In my defence it’s only a 3 day trip, and I’m a little nervous and trying not to worry about it. “Ah so you need help?” Before I can answer, I hear a tap on my window. My eyes immediately open. I’m awake now. “Good morning Montgomery,” I smile massively down at the boy under my window. On the ground beside him was his Liberty Tigers gym bag which I assume has all his shit in it for the weekend. I sure hope he’s washed it; that bag stinks of sweat and rich body odour. “Are you ready?” I laugh. I’m quite literally not ready. Like at all. “I guess so, can I come up?” Usually he wouldn’t ask, but I’m glad he did today. “I think you should knock on the front door today.” It’s probably safer. Could you imagine if my dad just caught him up in my room. He’d think he stayed the night and shit. It ain’t worth the hassle. Front door it is.
I try and play it cool, but when the door knocks I rush down the stairs. “Dad, I got it,” I watch as my dad makes his way to the door. “It’s okay, sweetie,” and he opens it to be greeted by my massively smiling boyfriend. This is it. This is where it starts.
“Morning sir,” comes out of Monty’s mouth. I raise my eyebrows, impressed. If he wants to get on my dad’s good side, this is a nice start. A firm handshake takes place also. I think this could go well. As long as we stick by the rules and in those stupid guidelines, it’ll all be smooth. “Montgomery,” Monty’s eyes quickly swipe to me, because his body follows my dad to the dining table. This is gonna be the talk.
This can go one of two ways. It can either be straight forward, my dad doesn’t mention anything sexual and just beats around the bush to make his point. Or he can say every word I don’t want to hear from my dad, and it’ll be an awkward ‘bonding’ experience. I’ve taken my bet. “Honey!” My dad calls my mum. She appears in a millisecond. The smile on Monty’s face has faded slightly. I could tell that he didn’t want to seem nervous. It’s cute. “Hey Monty, how are you?” My mum smiles warmly. “I’m excited, how are you guys?” His nerves were radiating off of him. My hand sat just above his knee. I’d be dreading this if I was him. “We’re good. I’m sure Brooke has mentioned the guidelines, but we just wanted to make sure you heard them from us. Just to make sure you hear them all of course,” the slight patronising tone of my fathers voice showed care, but I do wish he’d show Monty at least a smile. Monty and I nod in unison. Let’s get this over and done with.
At first I thought we were safe. Like maybe we had dodged that bullet. It was all ‘this is a very meaningful trip’ and ‘take care of the cabin’. He even cracked a joke or two. It was actually when my mum stepped in. That’s when it went south. “Now, for the main part. No sex,” I wince at the word. I’m not a prude, but I don’t need to hear it from my mum. I could tell my dad didn’t really want to be here for the conversation either. Monty kind of just nodded along and stayed neutral faced. Smart move man... smart move. “As your father said, you will be staying in separate rooms anyway. I know what it’s like to be a teenager. Hormones flowing around and all-“ “Mum,” my attempt to butt in failed massively. “I’m just saying I get it, but I don’t want no hanky-panky,” shit. I was waiting for that phrase. My eyes lock with my dad’s. “I think they’ve heard enough about that, I sure have!” And Monty laughs. That is such a relief. I’m expecting him to run out the door at any moment now. “Are all packed?” Monty clears his throat before answering. “I am sir, but Brooklyn hasn’t so I’m here to help,” I nudge him in his side. “Of course,” my mum shakes her head at me with a grin. “Well we wanna get going by 3, so you better move your ass young lady,” why are parents so embarrassing? “On that note, I guess we should pack my bag,” I cannot stress how fast I got up and moved.
“Shit,” I breathe as I pull Monty into my room and close the door. I stare at him, worried, with my hands on my hips. “I think that went quite well...” The change in tone made his statement sound more like a question. “You did?” I ask slowly, a smile growing on my face. “I think it could’ve gone worse?” I take two small steps towards him. My arms snake their way around behind his neck, pulling my body close to his. “It’s gonna be a long weekend,” I mutter. “Tell me about it,” he smirks back against my lips. A few bangs on the way up the stairs startles us both. The thought of my mum or dad walking in just scares me. That’s a sight neither of us will ever want to see. I’m surprised they haven’t told me to open my door yet.
“Yes!” Monty lays across my bed. Packing is a lot more work than it should be. At least I have Monty to help me choose what to take. He’s quite the fashionista you know. “Definitely take that one,” he nods again. Every time I turn to him with another item, I just see how ‘relaxed’ he is. Laid down with his head leant on his hand. “I can’t tell if you’re really good at hiding it, or you’re, like, not nervous at all?” I take a seat on the end of my bed. “I think it’s gonna be fine,” the way he moves his everybrows and screws up his face slightly shows me he’s lying. I get it. “So you’re fine?” I ask, cupping lightly on the right side of his face, just on his cheek above that sharp jawline. “If you’re calm, I’m calm,” he takes a moment to kiss the palm of my hand. This far into the relationship and he still gives me butterflies? Gross, but I can’t describe how amazing it feels. Fuck. I’m not calm. In about 3 hours we’re going to be in a bubble. A bubble with Monty and my family. I’d hoped this day would come, but I don’t think I actually thought it would happen? I collapse myself on my back. In the corner of my eye I see him move to giving his head over mine. “I’m calm, Brooklyn. What’s the worst that can happen?” I reach my arm up to his face again. “You’re right...” I pull his lips onto mine. A gentle finger brushes a piece of hair behind my ear. I pull back slightly. “We just gotta follow the rules.” And place my lips back on his. This is definitely going to be ‘easier said than done’.
The rule was ‘no alone time’ basically. Luckily that didn’t include the drive up. My parents took their car, whilst we drive in Monty’s stunning jeep. I want everyone to get along and - I guess - vibe with each other, but could you imagine the drive up. I feel like it would’ve just been silent. We have to build up to that. I can visualise it very clearly. My dad would peak through the rear view mirror. My mum would probably ask questions that would make every answer follow with silence. No thank you.
I snap my head to the radio when my favourite song starts playing. “Fuck, I love this song!” I smile and reach for the volume. Closing my eyes, I take the words and the best in. I could honestly listen to this song on loop and not get bored! Then I hear soft singing next to me. My eyes open and turn to him. “You do not know the words!” I squeal. “You play it all the time, so I downloaded it,” He stenches his teeth as if he hates to admit it. “I knew you liked the music I listen to!” My ego just grew by at least x10. “Some of its okay,” I drop my draw at the admittance. “I fucking-” “I know, Brooklyn!” He chuckles and continues tapping his fingers on the steering wheel along to the beat. And just like that, he becomes even more attractive. “Stop drooling,” I press my top and bottom lip together at his comment. “Shut up,” I whisper. I just realised I’m the biggest Montgomery simp. “It’s hot though, you get big brownie points for this you know,” I bite my lip slightly, just so he notices. Maybe I shouldn’t since we’re pretty much on a touching each other ban, but come on. A sexually frustrated Monty? I’ll have him wrapped around my finger. “Ooh what do my points add up for?” Monty takes a quick glance at the tall trees coming up. “I’d tell you, but you have to wait until after the trip,” I wink. “Fuck Brooklyn. I know what you’re doing.” I giggle under my breath. Here we go. “We’re almost there, about 5-10 minutes maybe?” Let’s get this started!
The crackle of gravel brings back years of memories at this place. A stunning dark wood cabin in the middle of nowhere. It sounds like a horror film and it honestly could be. Have you seen hush? It’s kinda like that. But no one’s died here. Not yet anyway. “How was the drive?” My dad asks, directly looking Monty... in the eyes. I raise my eyebrows. “It was alright, I don’t think I’ve been in a forest area like this!” Monty’s upbringing was so different to mine. I take shit like this for granted. “Beautiful isn’t it?” My mum comes over and hugs my dad at his side. “It’s got a lot of history to it-” “I don’t think Monty wants to hear about that dad,” I roll my eyes, but Monty butts in. “I don’t mind, sir. I’d love to hear it,” and I watch as Monty moves away from me. As does my dad. This is real? My dad and my boyfriend going to walk around together. I let out a deep breath. “He’s quite sweet,” my mum shrugs, grabbing her suitcase and taking it inside. Wait, yes! Not even 5 minutes in and my mum already thinks he’s sweet. I’m so fucking winning at this trip already.
Pacing the floor, FOR TWENTY MINUTES, until my dad brought Monty back to my sight. My safe, safe view. As they walk through the back door, they laugh and smile towards me. “You were gone quite some time,” my mum smiles massively, bringing my dad in for a small hug. The boy comes back to my side. I can’t help but smile at his smile. That can’t have gone that bad? “Yeah it felt like forever,” I mutter just loud enough. My eyes lock between Monty’s and my dad’s, who were both just lit up. I check my phone for the time. 18:02PM. “I think we’ll just order food tonight, why don’t you go sort out your things?” My mum smiles. Maybe they’re trying to please Monty, because this isn’t us.
“So...” I pull Monty into my room and sit on my bed. Crossing my legs, I’m ready. Hit me with it! “He gave me the tour, told me when the house was built and then I got the talk.” My head falls into my hands. “He lies about when the house was built by the way,” I warn him. The smile remains on his face. “I could tell, he mentioned about 4 different years.” “So the talk. How bad?” I swift back in topic. “It was good. Your dad’s really nice,” I stand back up as soon as those words exit his mouth. “Really?” My smile grows more and more, and grows bigger when his smile grows. “He basically just warned me about hurting you because of how much you like me,” he pokes my shoulder teasingly. “We shook hands and everything,” he does ‘jazz hands’ to mock me, but that genuinely just sends me over the moon. I clench my teeth and do a silent squeal. “You’re fucking crazy,” he whispers close to my face. Wrapping my around around him, I pull him in for a quick kiss. A quick kiss that lasted at least 30 seconds. No tongue. We can’t get all heated up.
As a tradition, we sit around the dining table. Even when it’s takeaway. “We bought a little of every sort of thing, we didn’t know what you guy’s would want,” my heart melts slightly at my mum’s words. That’s so cute. My mum knows exactly what I like, so that’s not aimed at me. I flash my appreciative eyes towards her, and she winks in response. His eyes scan through the table. There was bits of every meat, a few different potatoes, a little bit of it all. “Jesus this must’ve costed you a bit, I can give you some money towards this if you’d like,” my head turns to Monty. Why am I ready to cry? Both of my parents look confused. “That’s very lovely Monty, but it’s fine. You’re our guest,” my dad nods along with my mother. This feels accepting. Why was I even scared about this?
“So how’s baseball going Monty?” My dad asks. If there’s one thing they can bond about, it’s sports. There’s not a sport Monty hasn’t done, and not one that my dad doesn’t enjoy. Well... my dad doesn’t like cricket. “It’s going good,” Monty pauses to swallow his food fully. “I think we have a really good chance at bringing home state this year,” not really my conversation. I love watching Monty doing sports because, duh. Other than that, no. Monty looks my way so I playfully roll my eyes. “I’m surprised she pays attention to the sports, you can tell she really likes you,” and that makes me want to stab myself in the eye with a fork. “Dad!” I smile massively, embarrassed. Or maybe overjoyed at everything? Both. “I underestimated you Monty, I’m glad you’re here with us,” did I hear that right? Did my dad just say that? Already? We’re only 2 hours into the actual trip?! I notice Monty blushing slightly, which makes me blush and butterflies flutter in my stomach. “We’re excited to watch your next game,” my mum breaks the cute silence. “As long as you don’t fuck this up over here,” my dad winks and nods towards me. “Sir, you should probably know that I’m deeply in love with your daughter.” My dad’s eyebrows raise with a smile. My mum rushes a hand to her heart. And I just fell in love with him even more. I can’t help but blush massively and smile to myself as I try and swallow my food. “I’m that case, call me Daniel.”
Dinner was a dream. Like an actual fantasy. I cannot believe something like that happened. To me. In front of my eyes! This high that I’m on right now is unexplainable. I follow Monty into his room about 5 minutes after he went in. “That was so fucking perfect,” I close the door behind my and force my lips onto his. How am I meant to stay away? He guides me forwards, slipping his tongue slightly into my mouth before sitting down. I don’t hesitate to straddle his lap. My hands sit nicely on either side of his face, and his hands move down to my ass. He pulls me as close to him as he can, but the friction isn’t enough. “Hey guys!” My mum shouts from wherever she is. I forcefully pull my lips away from his. “Let’s go into the hot tub!” She adds. I breathe slow to control my breathing, and remove myself off of him. “Shit, I have a boner,” he grunts, throwing his head back in defeat. “Well... good luck with that,” like a school girl, I giggle. I best exit his room before I get caught here.
I get into my black little bikini and get ready to chill for like an hour. When I get out there, Monty’s already there. “There she is!” My mum smiles as I slide open the glass door. The tub is lit up perfectly with Monty sat inside. My mum sits on the deck in chairs that are comfier than they look. The night sky is clear with hundreds of stars spread across the sky. “Would you like a drink sweetie?” My mum shows the array of beer bottles behind her on the round wooden table. “I don’t know if you’re joking or not,” she only even lets me drink on ‘special occasions’. “Sure why not! You’re not gonna get drunk on one beer,” I slowly take two from her hands. Although the confused, I’m not arguing it.
“There you go Montgomery,” I wink at him before sitting at a just bareable distance away. Not too close, but nowhere near far. “Thank you Brooklyn,” we clink our drinks together before taking a sip. Did it have to be such a romantic setting. “How’s the day been for you then Monty?” My dad comes over and cheers’ his drink against ours. “I was very nervous, but it’s been amazing,” I look down. “I was going to be really hard on you, but you’re actually a nice guy. I apologise for assuming anything different,” this is it. He’s in. Monty has been accepted. I’m struggling to contain my squeal right now. But I should, right? “The jock persona definitely doesn’t help, but that means a lot. Thank you, Daniel...” Monty speaks my dad’s name very slowly. I clench teeth together. “If there something you want to say Brooklyn?” A laugh, which I’m sure is judgemental, escapes my mum’s mouth. “I’m just trying not to scream with excitement,” I shrug honestly. Monty subtly pokes the outside of my leg under the water.
I don’t know why, but the conversation just flowed between everybody. I must be dreaming. I’ve been sat with my eyes closed for a while. There’s a nice cool breeze that blows across every now and then. “Right, I think it’s time for us to get to bed,” my mum stands up. I immediately check the time on my phone. It’s 22:34?! That time flew. “Don’t stay up too late. We’ve got some activities planned for tomorrow! Be up about 7,” my mum kisses the top of my head. “Goodnight guys!” My dad smiles, shaking Monty’s hand. “Night!” We smile back in sync.
“Activities, huh?” Monty’s voice comes out in a flirt. “They like to do things like rock climbing and sailing,” I shrug. A look of slight worry comes across his face. “I’m not sure about that,” he laughs nervously. “Well, I guess I’ll just get to call you a pussy all day then,” I slide myself closer to the boy. “Don’t even try it,” he whispers as he leans in closer. Our lips touch and the kiss immediately gets heated. In one swift movement, I’m straddling him. And then it sinks in. My parents have left us alone. Together. I guess they trust me not to have sex in the hot tub? He does a half squeeze to my butt cheeks. And then he breaks the kiss. “We probably shouldn’t-” I stop him immediately. “You’re right. We definitely shouldn’t have sex in the hot tub,” I whisper. Hopping off his lap and out of the hot tub with speed, I attempt to dry myself off as much as I can. I almost run to my room. Is this a dangerous game? Yes. But I wanna fucking play it!
He enters milliseconds after me. My hand grabs his, pulling him towards my bed. “Are you sure?” I nod. “We’ll be quiet,” his smile is small but mischievous. “That’s a relief, I’ve got blue balls enough today.” I whisper out a giggle, and pull him on top of me. The bed makes a loud noise and we freeze. “Shit,” I laugh. He covers my mouth with a gleaming smile. “This is risky,” he nudges his nose against mine. “I know,” and I push my lips on his. With being in swimming things we were pretty much in our underwear. Smooth hands rub against the side of my body, all the way down to my ass. He actually squeezes it this time. The moan that wanted to escape was contained with a kiss. “There’s condoms in the top drawer,” and he frowns. “What? I kind of thought this would happen,” I admit and shrug. What can I say? I saw it coming.
Safety; done. Balancing out between risking this and actually getting caught by my parents was too easy of a decision. All I had on was my bra at this point, the rest was bare skin. So we shuffle under the covers, and Monty lines himself up. I haven’t really considered how hard it might be to keep quiet. “You’re so beautiful,” he whispers. Before pushing himself inside of me, he presses his lips on mine. My legs lift and wrap around his back, pulling him closer and closer until he’s all the way in. A heavy breath exits both of our mouths as we lock eyes and smile.
As he pulls out, I let out a little squeak. “Shhhhh,” he mutters against my lips. “I love you,” he whispers. And back in. His hands squeeze my waist as he finds a steady pace. This is possibly the closest I’ve ever felt to Monty. Yes, we’ve had sex many times. But I think my parents love him? Which has made me love him even more somehow. My leg raises higher, my foot scraping across his back as do my fingers. No nails. Not today. Thank god this bed doesn’t make a lot of noise.
Monty slows down the pace, which he knows drives me crazy in the best way. I spread my fingers up through his hair. His tongue continues to glide gracefully across mine. Those lips haven’t moved off of mine, which is probably for the best. They’re possibly the only things not exposing us right now. “Fuck,” I moan in a whisper. My legs begin to pretzel behind his back. That familiar knot starts to appear. I’m not sure I want this moment to end. Once again, Monty’s hand begins to roam my body. They move from my waist, to my ass. He pauses there for a second and massages it with one hand. Waves of added pleasure shoot though my limbs. It’s like some sort of drug. As his fingers move again, I’m being brought closer and closer to the edge. They hook under the knee of my right leg, lifting it slightly high. “Monty,” I laugh in a moaned whisper. He knows what he’s doing. “Just let go baby,” he whispers, kissing my nose before moving back to my lips. Didn’t have to tell me twice. I immediate explode around him. The moans against his lift sent angry vibrations. Once my high is rode out, I try breathing calmly through Monty’s climax too. Try is the important word there. My heart remains beating fast and loudly. I’m surprised it didn’t wake my mum and dad up.
My body just collapses and curls up to Monty’s. Our fingers just intertwine, even though they’re sweaty. Gross. “Thank you for today,” I whisper, bringing his hand up to my lips and place a simple kiss against it. Words actually can’t describe what today meant to me. It’s soppy as fuck. “I think it was a success,” he chuckles into my ear. “You probably shouldn’t sleep in here,” I wish he could. I just wanna spoon him. Well, I’m actually very happily the little spoon. “I know,” I feel him move slightly. “You could probably stay a little longer?” I stick out my bottom lip like a child. “You know we’d fall asleep,” he leans over and kisses my forehead. As if that was enough for me, he pulls away. A quick reflexed arm pull his head back down, instead onto my lips. “Sweet dreams Brooklyn.”
109 notes · View notes
Text
A Baker’s Dozen
some saccharine sweetness because quarantine means time to write again and all i wanted to produce was hinny fluff :) read on AO3
“Something smells good,” Harry calls, on arriving home. He follows his nose to the kitchen, where Ginny is eyeing a cake she has clearly just pulled out of the oven. “Oh, yum. Is that dinner?”
She pulls a face, and swats him away when he tries to reach for it, so he settles for wrapping his arms around her waist, and they stand there, pressed against each other, surveying it. “It’s for Helen’s birthday,” she explains. “Which is tomorrow, and I don’t have time to bake another, so no touching.”
“I didn’t realise you and Helen were that close?” says Harry. Helen was one of three Healers the Harpies employed to ensure their team were at the peak of their physical fitness. As far as he could remember, though, she mostly worked with their reserve squad, so Ginny, who was always in the starting seven, didn’t have that much contact with her.
“It’s this new thing we’re trialling at work this year,” she explains. “We were just getting absolutely inundated with cake—whenever it was someone’s birthday, everyone would bake a cake and bring it in. Gwynog was starting to worry about our nutritional intake. So this year, she made us pull names out of a hat, and whosever name you got, you and you alone were responsible for baking their birthday cake. Everyone went in, all the players and coaches and Healers, and I got Helen.”
“Well if it tastes as good as it smells, she should count herself lucky,” Harry declares.
“It does,” say Ginny with confidence. “There was some stuck to the bottom of the tin that I helped myself to. And no,” she adds, “there is no more.”
“That’s terrible,” he teases, “I’m cake-deprived. You’re a terrible girlfriend.”
She rolls her eyes, grinning. “Yeah, yeah,” she says. “Honestly, though, I’m more worried about how it looks. Last month, Jen brought this amazing cake done out in the Harpies colours for Miriam’s birthday, and when we cut it open, a load of confetti and fireworks burst out of it. This might taste okay, but it doesn’t look great, and I’m not exactly skilled on the icing front...”
For all the tempting smells, Harry has to admit it is very misshapen. Ginny isn’t going to win any marks for presentation, that’s for sure. “I’d never want to eat a green cake, though,” he says loyally.
Ginny smiles, and extracts herself from his arms. “Even though you’re cake-deprived?”
“Even though I’m cake-deprived,” he confirms. She’s digging around inside the cupboard now, and pulls out a jar of buttercream and some candles, each of which are shaped into the letters of ‘happy birthday’.
“I’ve got this—shop-bought, but don’t tell anyone—and some edible glitter,” she says. “If I pile it on, it should hide any lumps, and then I’ll stick the candles on. It won’t win any awards, but it should do, right?”
Harry nods. “Don’t overthink this,” he assures her. “If it tastes good, no one will care what it looks like. I just think it’s nice that everyone at the club will get an additional birthday cake on their birthday. A family-and-friends cake and a work cake. That’s great! When I was a kid, I’d have killed for just one cake. I mean, it’s not like the Dursleys ever...” He trails off, aware that Ginny is looking at him in that way she does sometimes.
Well, ‘sometimes’.
She only ever looks that way—shocked, even appalled for a moment, then quietly, utterly furious—when he mentions one thing: the Dursleys. She opens her mouth, closes it for a long moment, then, when she speaks again, her tone is very, very carefully controlled. “You never had a birthday cake, growing up?” she asks.
“I guess my parents must have, my first year...” he says. “I don’t know, there aren’t any pictures. But then I didn’t have one again until my eleventh, you know, when Hagrid turned up.” He’s trying to make light of it, to move the conversation on, but he can’t be doing a very good job because Ginny continues to look absolutely furious. “You know, on the scale of all the things the Dursleys did, not giving me a birthday cake is not that big of a deal—”
Ginny makes one of her angry cat noises. “When we were kids...well, you know how poor we were,” she says, a moment later. “Some years, our birthday presents were just hand-me-down clothes wrapped up in old newspaper because Mum and Dad literally couldn’t afford to get us anything else. Not even proper wrapping paper. But we always, always had a birthday cake. And Mum never skimped, either. It was always whatever flavour we wanted, nothing too much trouble, decorated however we chose!”
“Your Mum is really good at baking,” Harry jumps in, trying to head her off as her voice rises in agitation. “I mean, that Snitch cake she did for my seventeenth? Made up for all the ones I didn’t get!”
“And it’s not like Mum and Dad were doing anything unusual there. Every kid gets birthday cake. That’s your job as an adult,” Ginny carries on regardless, and Harry realises he hasn’t done a great job in calming her down. “Even if you go to the shop and buy it because you’re crap at baking. Even if you’re dentists like Hermione’s parents and don’t believe in sugar, you still get a cake. And maybe it’s not that big of a deal compared to the other stuff those people did, but it is just another example of how they are absolute, complete—”
“Alright,” Harry says hastily. “It’s okay, Gin, honestly it is. I’m over it. They’re the past, now, and I survived, and—”
“They are terrible people,” she says, shaking her head. “What you said earlier about being cake-deprived—”
“That was just a dumb joke,” he says. “I didn’t mean anything by it. Honestly I’m not traumatised by it, I was just kidding.”
“I know, I know,” she says. She sighs, and puts down the tub of buttercream she’s been holding onto, waving it around in agitation as she speaks. “I know it was just a joke, but it is true. You were cake-deprived. And yes, like you say, on the scale of all the things they did to you, it’s not that big of a deal. But it’s just so representative of what despicable humans they are. You had eleven birthdays without a single cake—and I assume no cards or presents, too?”
“No cards or presents, yes, but not eleven birthdays—Hagrid came through for me, remember? So just ten. Well, nine, I guess, because my parents must have done one when I was one, like I said. It’s fine, I swear.” She gives him a look. “I guess next birthday, rather than a present, you can just bake me nine cakes, plus one for this year, so a nice round ten, and I’ll be all caught up, yeah?” he says.
Ginny still looks troubled, so he tries to make more of a joke of it by going back to the cake she made for her colleague, which is still on the worktop. “Actually, I could start by eating this one, and...” He flicks his wand at it, so it starts levitating, and he pretends to take a bite.
She pulls a face again. “Damage my cake, Potter, and I’ll make you pay,” she says, but her heart isn’t in the teasing like it usually is.
“Ooh, sounds fun,” he tries, but carefully lowers it back down nonetheless. Then he walks over to her and wraps his arms around her again, and she rests her head on his chest. “Honestly, don’t spare them any thought,” he says. “They are terrible people. I know this. The no-birthday-cake thing was an awful thing to do to a kid, and I used to get upset about it. But now, I’m over it. Really.”
She gives him a look—not disbelieving, as such, but still not completely convinced that he’s not just saying these things to make her feel okay. She thinks its subtle, but he, of course, understands. “Look,” he says, “I have you, and Ron and Hermione, and everything and everyone else, and I am happy. And they are sad, sad individuals living their sad, sad lives and they will be until the end. Who wins, really?”
“Well,” she says, “when you put it like that...”
“It’s obvious,” he agrees. Then he grins. “This summer, we’ll do a cake-tasting, or something. Like wine-tasting, but with cake. Much better.”
She laughs. “Cake-tasting! I am on board.”
“See, it’s almost like they did me a favour!” he says.
Ginny wrinkles her nose. “Well, I wouldn’t go that far…”
*
Her cake for Helen, while not one that sets the world on fire, goes down just fine at work. Harry, meanwhile, is normal. Happy. Busy with work, sure, but he shows no signs of lasting trauma after their conversation. Not that Ginny expects it: even after all these years, she’s still not used to the casualness with which he will announce something totally shocking about his past. Not being given a birthday cake is clearly not on a par with having bars put on his bedroom window, or being forced to sleep in the cupboard under the stairs.
But it still shocks her to her core.
And she can’t shake it. She has half a mind to organise the cake-tasting he’d been joking about, but truthfully, baking has never been her strong suit, and she doesn’t want to let anyone else know, for Harry’s sake. She knows he mentions things about his upbringing to Ron and Hermione sometimes, but she also knows she has to let him drive these conversations. Her mentioning this latest revelation to them would only upset him. So she keeps quiet, until, one day in early June, nearly a month later, it comes to her.
“When do you come off nights, again?” she asks him, over breakfast-for-dinner.
“Wednesday, why?” he asks. “You want to do something?”
“I’m feeling a party coming on,” she replies. “Friday sound good?”
“Sure,” Harry says, “but what’s the occasion?”
“Well, we had our housewarming back in February,” she says, referring to the party they had when they had officially moved in to Grimmauld Place together. “But we never had a garden warming.”
“Well, no,” Harry says, “because the garden’s tiny. Not much to warm.”
“It’s big enough for our lot,” she replies. This is hard to argue with: ‘our lot’ can anything from the two of them, Ron and Hermione, to everyone. At their housewarming, ‘our lot’ meant assorted Weasleys (a houseful on their own); other ex-DA and Order members; some of Ginny’s fellow Harpies; a few colleagues of Harry and Ron’s from the Auror Department; anyone who’s ever been employed at Weasley’s Wizarding Wheezes; and a fluctuating number of plus ones as all of the above get into, and sometimes out of, relationships. Harry somehow senses, by the gleam in Ginny’s eye, that this time she’s means everyone.
“The forecast’s good,” she adds. “The garden is pretty big, plus we’ve got the kitchen—and the rest of the house if it comes to it. BYOB, we’ll get a few snacks in, get Lee to play for us... It’ll be fun!”
It would be fun, Harry had to admit. The parties the two of them threw were not usually anything special, really—they didn’t spend lots of money on entertainment, just invited people round, asked them to bring drinks, and left it at that—but this was what made them special. Their housewarming had been ace: why not a garden warming?
“If you insist,” he says, rolling his eyes like she’s asked him for a kidney, and she laughs.
“That’s settled, then,” she says, giving him a quick kiss on the cheek. “I’ll let everyone know: party here on Friday. Get your dancing shoes out, Potter!”
*
Come Friday, Ron and Hermione are the first to arrive.
Harry’s in the garden, magicing up some extra chairs when they apparate in, and he waves them over, giving Hermione a hug while Ron carefully arranges a cake on the centre of the table Ginny’s set up. This takes longer than it should, and both Harry and Hermione watch, amused. “Behold,” he says, when it’s placed precisely how he wants it. “Pumpkin pie and custard cake.” He waits for a flourish which doesn’t come.
“Er…?” says Harry.
“I told you it sounded revolting,” Hermione says, rolling her eyes affectionately.
Ron looks mortally wounded. “How dare you!” he says. “I have spent hours concocting the precise recipe for a cake-pie hybrid, and this—”
“Oh please, not the cake-pie speech again!” she cuts in, throwing her hands up in front of her face in horror. “I swear, ever since he took up baking he’s become absolutely unbearable,” she adds to Harry and Ginny, who has just appeared from inside the house.
“You just can’t deal with the fact that I’m better at something than you,” Ron says smugly.
“Oh...whatever,” she replies, trying—unsuccessfully—to hide her smile. “Anyway, Ginny, how are you?”
Before she can answer, they are interrupted by Dean and Seamus, who have just arrived. Harry knew Ginny had invited them, so their presence is not exactly unexpected. What is unexpected is what is in the box they are holding, and the shriek Hermione lets out on seeing it. “Is that a Colin the Caterpillar cake?!” she squeals.
“Sure is,” grins Dean. Seamus gives an I-don’t-know-either shrug in the direction of the two Weasleys, but Hermione is all but clawing it out of Dean’s hands.
“I have never wanted something for my birthday as much as I wanted one of these,” she sighs almost dreamily. “But my parents were absolutely horrified by the sugar content and wouldn’t let me have one. Plus, they said it was rampant consumerism when a perfectly good, unbranded plain sponge cake would do just fine. Which probably wasn’t too far wrong. But...oh, goodness, you must let me have a piece.”
Dean laughs. “Of course! We always got one every year for our birthdays when we were kids.”
“Dudley used to love ’em,” Harry says. “One year, he had three. One just for him, and the other two to be split between the rest of the kids at the party. But he still ate the face from both of them.”
“What are they?” asks Ron, looking slightly displeased at the excitement Hermione is showing for a shop-bought cake in a box, especially after she was less than enthused about his own creation.
“Chocolate swiss roll smothered in chocolate, with a white chocolate face and feet, and smarties for decoration,” Dean says promptly.
“That sounds—” Ron begins.
“Incredible,” Ginny nods, and everyone laughs. Harry briefly wonders why the two of them have brought a muggle children’s cake to the party, but then Seamus starts ribbing Ron about the Cannons’ last game, Hermione disappears inside with Ginny in search of more plates, and Katie Bell arrives, distracting him.
“Hi, Katie,” he says, waving her over. She’s apparated into the yard like the others had, and she, too, is carefully carrying a cake on a plate.
“Hi, Harry!” she says. “Thank you so much for having us over, it’s great to see you again. Can I put this on the table?”
“Uh...sure,” he says. He eyes the cake with some confusion, which she sees, but misinterprets.
“It’s pineapple upside-down cake,” she explains. “Only,” she adds, sounding slightly worried. “I’ve never made it before. So I’m not sure if it’s actually pineapple right-side-up cake.”
“As long as it tastes good, right?” he asks, deciding to roll with it.
“That’s the spirit,” Katie says, laughing. “Anyway, how are you?” They chat about inconsequential things for a few moments, and it never seems to him quite the right time to ask why she’s brought a home-made, slightly wonky looking pineapple upside down cake to a garden party. But when Bill and Fleur, and then Susan Bones and her partner arrive almost simultaneously, both couples carrying cakes as well, he starts to suspect something is up.
Susan has brought a very neat Victoria sponge cake, dusted with icing sugar and layered with strawberry jam and cream. It is, Harry thinks, a very Susan cake. Bill and Fleur have bought Victoire (who is to go down a storm: later, they’ll say they’re only going to stay for a half an hour, but will end up staying nearly three, mostly because they get to nap whilst the baby is passed around and cooed over) and a galette des rois.
“Of course, traditionally, one only eats this at the New Year,” Fleur explains. “But Ginny said—” unfortunately, Ron, Dean and Katie Bell all burst out laughing at something Seamus has said at this exact moment, and Harry doesn’t hear exactly what Ginny said, though he’s starting to suspect, “—and so I could not not introduce you all to French culture.” She makes her you’re welcome face, but fortunately Victoire starts squawking and her attention is diverted before Harry has to come up with a response.
A few more people arrive: Oliver Wood, looking very sheepish with two muffins he confesses he stole from the Puddlemere staff canteen at the last moment, having forgotten Ginny’s request; Parvarti and Lavender, carrying a honey cake. George and Angelina arrive with a delicious-looking chocolate cake which everyone eyes with intense suspicion until Angelina rolls her eyes and loudly says that she made it at which point everyone relaxes. (When the first person to take a bite from it turns into a large cockatoo for a moment, a la the Canary Creams, she rolls her eyes again and says that she said she made it, not that she wasn’t also capable of creating a Wheeze. Fortunately, the cake itself so delicious that nobody actually minds turning into a parrot).
While this is all going on, Ginny remains in the kitchen, or else when she comes outside, she’s always deep in conversation with someone. At first, it seems natural—she’s always been sociable, but after a while, Harry starts to think she’s avoiding him. Glancing in through the window, he sees her talking in the kitchen with a couple of girls from the Harpies’ squad who have just arrived, with, it appears, a large cake apiece.  
Everyone wants to say hello to Harry when they get there, so he ends up taking up residence by the table on the yard for a while, welcoming everyone and watching the cakes pile up. He starts to feel like he’s ended up at the village show by mistake and will be asked to judge everyone’s offerings. Alicia Spinnett turns up with what is essentially a giant, handmade cauldron cake, and Percy brings something covered in buttercream with rows of sweet cherries on the top that are so neatly arranged Harry suspects he used a set square.
Lee Jordan brings his decks and an incredibly boozy trifle; Harry makes a mental note to not let anyone who has a helping also have any of Hannah Abbott’s Firewhiskey fruitcake. “Half the bottle’s in there, I swear,” Neville says, when they place it down among the growing collection. Hannah elbows him and makes a comment that the other half would’ve been in there, too, had he not helped himself to it, and they walk off, laughing.
The party already has a good vibe to it and it’s hardly begun—the weather’s turning into summer, and so the yard is warm, but not stifling and Ginny’s placed flobberworms in jars around the place which give the yard a magical luminosity. Lee sets up his music, everyone’s talking and laughing, drinks in hand, and Harry’s just about to go over to where Ron and Neville appear to be having a very animated conversation when someone places a plate down on the now bulging table. While Harry logically knows it must be a cake, if only because literally everyone else has bought one, it bares a startling resemblance to burnt toast.
“I’m sorry,” says Dennis Creevey, by way of a greeting. “It’s a travesty, I know. I wouldn’t have bought it, but I was too scared of Ginny to turn up empty handed.” He tips Harry a wink, and Harry grins back.
“You realise you could’ve stopped off at the corner shop and picked up something readymade?” he says.
Dennis makes a show of slapping himself on the forehead, like he forgot something really obvious. “See, mate, this is why you’re the Auror and I’m not. Can’t think on my feet, me,” he says. “No, seriously, that did occur to me. But I wasn’t sure what the rules were with non-homemade things.”
“The rules?” Harry asks.
“Yes, you know, after Ginny’s frankly terrifying invitation.”
“I seem to have misplaced mine,” Harry says, “remind me again what she said?”
“We bumped into each other last week in Diagon Alley,” Dennis replies. “And she’s all, oh, we’re having this party next Friday, are you free? And I said yes, and she said we’ll that’s great, we’ll see you around seven, oh and on pain of death, bring a cake. So I asked what kind of cake, and she said that any would do. But she said she was concocting a special punishment for anyone who turned up empty-handed. I mean, she sounded like she was joking. But d’you remember the fancy dress party, last winter? And what happened to Percy, when he didn’t turn up in costume?”
“I do,” Harry says, matching his grave tone. “Well, we can’t have a repeat of that.”
“Anyway, I asked: why cake? I mean, fancy dress at least makes sense, right?” Harry nods, and Dennis carries on, oblivious to his sudden focus. “And she just said, and I quote, ‘I just love cake, and so does anyone with a brain, so why not have a party where all there is to eat is cake?’”
“Why not indeed,” Harry says. It’s such a Ginny thing to do: make up something that sounds like a silly game, a quirk, a touch of whimsy. Let everyone think it’s just because that’s how she is, but actually, make it a secret present to him.
Truth be told, he’d forgotten about their conversation a couple of weeks ago, when his joke about being cake-deprived had accidentally become A Thing. But clearly she hadn’t, and not only has she now done all this for him, she’s done it in such a way that no one will ever know. She’s squared it so that no one will ever know about the Dursleys and their treatment of him, but he gets all the cakes he missed out on anyway. It’s the silliest thing—it’s just cake!—but at the same time, it’s the best thing.
“...think it’ll be okay?”
Harry blinks. “Sorry, what was that?”
“My cake,” Dennis says. “I know it’s a disaster, but do you think it’ll count?”
“Don’t worry, I’ll vouch for your monstrosity,” he says cheerfully. “Besides—and I never thought I’d say this—I think if anything we might have too much cake.”
“Nah,” says Dennis. “No such thing.” Harry laughs, and then Dennis is summoned over by George, leaving Harry free to do what he wants to most right now: find Ginny.
What he gets, instead, is Luna.
Despite the fact that she’s pretty much the last person to arrive, and so the table by which he’s still standing is now absolutely covered with cakes of all description, she still manages to look incredibly vague as she places one down next to all the others. It looks like a fairly basic sponge, except that it’s a rich purple colour and covered with a bright orange frosting. “Oh, hello Harry,” she says, looking slightly surprised to see him at his own house party. “Fancy seeing you here. Would you like a piece of my cake?”
Harry thinks he would rather eat a slice of Dennis’s burnt monstrosity—would rather eat the whole thing—but gamely agrees, then, with an overly-dramatic slap on the forehead, exclaims that he doesn’t have a knife to cut a piece. “Not to worry!” Ron and Hermione have appeared, both carrying several knives and forks, and a pile of plates. “Ginny sent us out with these.”
Harry looks over, and finds her now talking to Bill and Fleur, baby Victoire balanced on her hip. As he watches, she carefully hands Victoire over to her parents, then slides over to where Susan Bones and her partner are talking, saying something which makes them both laugh, then drops in to say hi to Lavender and Parvati, getting briefly drawn into whatever good-natured debate they’re having. She flits in between everyone’s conversations, and maybe it’s just him projecting, but it feels like everyone lights up when she joins them.
She catches him staring at her when she’s midway through a chat with Neville and Hannah, and even though they’ve been together for years now, it still makes him blush. She winks at him, and smirks, and he deliberately looks away, making a conscious effort to refocus on the conversation at hand. Luna is going into great detail about her cake, which appears to be made of Dirigible Plums, chocolate, and Gillywater essence, which both sounds revolting and, according to Hermione, is not technically legal.
“...should let her know that distilled Gillywater is a class-three non-tradeable—”
“What was that, sorry?” Luna says, and Hermione opens her mouth again, looking vexed.
“Hermione was just saying how delicious your cake looks,” Ron says smoothly, and Luna looks flattered.
“You should give Ron the recipe,” Ginny adds, coming over to join them. “He’s a fantastic baker, and he’d love to try it.”
“You must have the first slice!” beams Luna. Ron looks panic-stricken. “Is there a knife? And some plates?”
“Oh, look at that, we’re out of plates,” Ron says, quickly sliding a stack behind Alicia Spinnet’s giant cauldron cake.
Harry catches Ginny’s eye, then they both have to look away for fear of laughing.
Fortunately, Neville comes over and start asking Luna about some new species of Murtlap which has been bred by a team of Magizoologists in Argentina, and the conversation turns away. Hermione starts magically slicing the cakes, and Ron goes rooting around in the kitchen for all the cutlery he can find, whilst Ginny walks around the different groups, inviting people to dig in.
And dig in they do: everyone, it turns out, thinks a cake party is an excellent idea (“But then it would be, wouldn’t it?” Ginny says when Lavender says this to her, “I thought of it!”). The music is turned up, darkness falls, and the drinks flow, and it’s certainly well into the early hours before the last stragglers have left. Ron and Hermione offer to stay to help with the clearing up, but Harry and Ginny both wave them away. “We’ll do it in the morning,” Ginny says, yawning. “The proper morning,” she adds, glancing at Gideon Prewett’s battered old watch on Harry’s wrist. And, after a final round of goodbyes, it’s suddenly just the two of them in the yard.
Well, the two of them and the remains of upwards of twenty cakes.
Ginny lets out a huge, long yawn which leads into a full body stretch and Harry seizes the moment to reach out and pull her close, dropping a kiss down on her head. “Thank you,” he says quietly.
“...mmm?” she responds, snuggling in.
He could brush it off, pretend he’s said nothing—or at least nothing of any importance—and lead her off to bed, but somehow that doesn’t seem right. “Thank you,” he says again, more clearly. She’s been burrowing into his chest, but she stops for a moment, not pulling away, exactly, but certainly not going any further.
“Harry,” she says, very very softly—and it’s clear that, as usual, she know exactly what is is he is saying, even when he’s not saying anything at all.
“Thank you,” he says, for a third time, and more firmly still. “Thank you for tonight, and for the cakes, and for...for everything. It means a lot.”
She pulls back far enough that she can see his face, and her own has never looked so loving. She gives him a smile so small as to be almost shy. “I’m glad,” she says, and he thinks, then, that it is impossible for anyone to have ever understood another person as much as she understands him, and that he must be the luckiest person living. She gives his arm the gentlest squeeze. “It was a good night,” she says, and he nods in agreement.
“There’s just one thing...” she says hesitantly. She seems to be pausing, collecting her words, and Harry turns his head ever so slightly to one side.
“What is it?” he asks after a moment, as she hesitates. He wonders if she’s leading up to a question about the Dursleys, something sensitive and delicate which leaves her reaching carefully for the right words.
“Oh...” she says. “Just...” It happens so fast that he can hardly credit it—but, he supposes, she is an international Quidditch star, known for her almost inhuman reflexes. Still, it crosses his mind that his boss, Gawain Robards, might be less than enamoured to know that the leading light of his Auror department can be caught out by a five foot one menace, shouting “Gotcha!” and shoving the remains of Percy’s buttercream sponge in his face.
He blinks for a moment, pulling his glasses off to wipe them on his shirt even as he can feel the rest of the icing sliding down his face. Ginny’s musical laughter comes from somewhere over to his right, as she’s sensibly stepped out of retaliation’s way, and he freezes in place for a few seconds. The laughter trails away, until: “...Harry?”
And then he moves, lunging towards Luna’s Dirigible Plum cake, grabbing a handful, and lobbing it in her direction. Her shriek lets him know he hasn’t missed his target, even shooting (practically) blind. He takes the moment to wipe his glasses clean, placing them back on his face just in time to see her eyes narrow.
“Oh, Potter,” she says, grinning in delight. “It is on.”
My thanks to Emily, for the encouragement, and everyone who’s ever re-written *that* HBP movie mince pie scene, for the inspo x
186 notes · View notes
Dear Little Me...
Recently, I’ve been struggling. Struggling with the fact that, looking back on my childhood, I was left with more scars than I thought. That it had far more impact on me and who I am today.
I spent a good portion of the other day traversing through my memories and coming to terms with the fact that I was hurting as a child.
Today... I came across this and decided to give it a go. As a way to let go of the past hurt. To validate myself. And maybe even as a reminder, not just to myself but to anyone that might need to remember that we are worthy of love and kindness and gentleness.
So... here it is. A letter to little me... and maybe, some of you can take a message away from it too.
Tumblr media
Hey, Kiddo.
So this is me talking. Um… to start off… I’m nonbinary. No wonder we despised the clothes mum got for us, eh?
So… most people call me Defence these days… and yes, by that, I do mean my friends. And before you ask, yes, you find yourself friends one day. Friends that remind you that they care about you. Friends who never make you question whether or not you matter. Friends who see your flaws and your quirks, who see how different you are and still love you.
Do you know why?
Because you deserve it. Just as much as anyone else.
You do, I promise you that you do, hun. I know that you think you don’t. I know you think that the way your peers treat you is normal. I know that you think that the way your so-called “friends” treat you is normal but believe me… it isn’t.
It is not okay for them to question how devoted you are to the group just because you’d rather sit and listen because you just like listening to them talk.
It is not okay for them to make plans in front of you every single day but never invite you, excluding you from things that you so desperately want to be a part of but are too scared to ask for.
It is not okay for them to dangle their friendship in front of you but only let you get so clos, snatching it away when you behave in a way that they don’t like.
No, they’re not obligated to love you. No, they’re not obligated to spend time with you. They don’t have to invite you anywhere. They don’t owe you shit, to be quite frank.
But to make plans in front of you, to ignore you, to shower each other with affection while you’re forced to watch isn’t okay. To make you question why you’re not good enough for them isn’t okay. To slowly isolate you from them instead of being honest with you isn’t okay. To make their friendship, their love, conditional isn’t okay.
And the thing that hurts me now, kiddo, is I know how much that killed you. I know how much it chipped away at your soul and heart every goddamn day. I know how much you wanted to be a part of that. I know that you loved your friends fiercely. And I know that when you finally left the group… you may as well have not even existed. You discovered the truth that day, little one. You discovered that you didn’t matter. That you were nothing to them.
And it happened time and time again. Because you were different. Because you weren’t normal. Because you didn’t match up with what they wanted from you. Because you were a weirdo that spent more time with her nose buried in a book, content to listen to her friends because their happiness made her happy. Because you just didn’t understand social connections like they did. Because it was harder for you to connect to people your age.
And the worst part is… I know what you’re thinking right now. You think that this is okay. You think that this is normal. You think that love and friendship and affection is unobtainable to you. That you’re not allowed to have it. That you don’t deserve it. That you’re not worthy of it.
And it kills me that you’re going to feel this way for 23 years. It hurts knowing that you’re going to get your heart broken over and over and over again.
It hurts knowing that you question why anyone would be friends with you. Why anyone would love you. Why would they even tolerate you.
It hurts knowing that one day… hearing a friend say “I love you” is going to overwhelm you and leave you wondering “why?”
It hurts knowing that you think that you’re better off alone. That you’re meant to be alone.
And dear fucking Christ above, kid. It breaks my heart knowing that you can’t even look at any reflective surface because you can’t stand to look at the girl nobody wants to be friends with. That you hate yourself. That you wonder every single day what you’d done wrong.
It hurts knowing that you believe people when they say that you don’t care enough. That you’re heartless.
But let me tell you this… you didn’t do anything wrong, my love. You might not always know how to show it or maybe the way you show is just different or maybe you’re just not good at emoting… but you have a heart. You do care. You care so much and have so much affection for your friends that it bubbles up inside your chest and you feel like you’re going to explode because there’s just so much. It overwhelms you… but it’s only a bad feeling when you know they don’t even like you. When you know that they care right back? It’s very comforting.
And that love that you think you’re not worthy of? That friendship that you think you don’t deserve? I need you to know that you do. You are so, so worthy of it all. There is nothing wrong with you. You are not broken. You’re just different and that’s okay.
And here’s a little secret… one day… you’re going to get a haircut. You’re going to change your hair colour. You’re going to dress how you want to dress… and when you do? You are going to have the biggest, dopiest grin on your face when you look in a mirror and for the first time in your life you’ll like what you see and you’ll say “I feel handsome. I like me. This is good.” And it will be. Because you’ll finally be looking at you, not the person everyone wants you to be.
You’ll make friends who care about you. Friends who you care about you so much. Friends who make you feel wanted and loved. Friends that slowly help you unlearn all of the horrible lessons that your school years taught you. And you’ll help them in return. You’ll support each other. Tease each other. Annoy the utter shit out of each other. Be utter gremlins to each other. Scream at each other when you’re not taking care of yourselves. And it comes from a place of mutual fondness, which is very nice.
I know you don’t believe me. You still think that you don’t deserve it. That you’re too broken to have it. That you’re not allowed to have it. That’s okay. You take your time. Hell, I’m still learning to accept it myself! But there’s something else I want to tell you before I go. Something that has been a long time coming.
Are you ready?
I love you, little me. I do. I love you for your quiet nature. I love you when you get loud and excited and don’t know how to wait your turn to speak because of this really cool thing you learned! I love you when you’re shy. I love you when you just want to sit in your room and read. I love you when you think that no one else does. I love all of your quirks and I love you through your flaws. I love you when you’re being a little shit. I still love you when you fuck up and make mistakes, even when those mistakes hurt people. I love how you learn from them. I love how sensitive you are in a world that demands you to be cold and uncaring and harsh. I love your creativity and how you make dumb jokes just to make other people smile and laugh. I love that you’re clumsy because it’s a part of who you are. I love that you love so fiercely, even though it fucking terrifies you because you know it’s just going wind up with another broken heart. I love your strength that you think you don’t have. I love the bravery that you think you lack.
I love you, kid. I’m just sorry that it took me nearly 24 years to say it to you.
I won’t lie. We’re still hurting. Still healing. We have a lot of bad days. But the good days more than make up for them. I don’t always love myself and sometimes, often, I’m not very nice when I speak to myself. But this is me reaching out to you. This is me taking a step forward. This is me looking back at the hurt and scared little girl I used to be and smiling reassuringly.
Because believe you me, kiddo… we’re going to be okay.
That’s a promise that I intend on keeping.
You’re going to hurt. You’re going to lose people. You’re going to watch somebody very important to you fade away to illness and you’re going to grieve for them. You are going to be so strong and so brave for that, no matter what you think. It’s not easy, this road that we walk. But it’s ours and we’re not entirely alone. We have our family and one day, we’ll have our friends.
Chin up, baby girl. Keep those eyes open. Keep breathing and taking it one step at a time. Take as many breaks as you need to. Because one day… you’re going to make it to my point in the road and you’re going to look back and say “Holy shit. I did it!”
We’re not always kind to ourselves… but I am proud of you. I love you. And I promise that I won’t give up on you.
Promise that you won’t give up on me?
And I know it’s your birthday this month. I know you don’t like your birthday, even less after what happened with mum. But it’s okay to let go. It’s okay to be happy. It’s okay to laugh and smile and giggle as the people in your life celebrate you.
You deserve it. Because without you, I wouldn’t be in the amazing place I am now.
So… Happy Birthday, little me. You’re more loved than you think you deserve and I can’t wait until you see what’s in store for you.
Spoiler alert; you’re happy. Still sad, still have bad days, still spiral. But you’re happier than you have been for many years. That’s something to look forward to, my dear.
I’ll leave you here… but just know that the future is brighter than you think.
Lots of love,
Older you.
P.s… try shopping in the men’s section. Our non-binary ass will appreciate it 😉
43 notes · View notes
Text
Reddie oneshot - ‘Cheeks As Red As Rudolph’s Nose’
Summary: Richie buys an ugly Christmas jumper, but lies to the shop assistant and says it’s for his mum in embarrassment. Later, Richie sees the cute shop assistant again, while wearing said awful jumper.
Richie loved the idea of Christmas.
Christmas time was a happy, joyful time in which you’d see your family and friends. It seemed amazing, and it was - when you had family or friends, or even a boyfriend, it’s spend it with. But this year, Richie was alone.
He had his family, sure. But after moving out of Derry to New York to fulfil his acting career, which his family were supportive of, he was broke. And so were they. Meaning, he did not have the money to go and visit this Christmas. Be with his family.
Being alone didn't seem so bad anyways. He didn't need people to have a Christmas dinner, and he didn't need people to watch stupid Christmas movies and eat chocolate with.
He didn't need it, but he wanted it.
Taking a long, self-deprecating sigh, Richie glanced at the Christmas decorations as he stepped into his local store, Morrisons.
Deciding to not be a complete grinch and actually have involve himself in the Christmas spirit, he quickly grabbed a basket and popped a few, cheap and tacky Christmas decorations in.
And then, he saw it.
An ugly Christmas jumper, that happened to be the mouldiest shade of yellow possible. It had a bad excuse for a Christmas pudding plastered in the middle, and the designer had made the poor choice to have the pudding dripping off the jumper (when really the pudding just ended up looking like shit, literal shit).
Richie snorted, prancing over time jab at it and make some funny comments to poor shoppers walking by; when he finally touched it.
And holy shit, was this jumper soft. Running his fingers through the fabric felt like heaven.
Trying to keep his pride, Richie quickly scattered through the racks before finding his size, and throwing it in his basket. Grabbing a chocolate bar and a sandwich, he made his way over to the self-checkouts, not in the mood to talk to an overly enthusiastic cashier that day.
But it was just his luck today, because as he scanned his "ugly but looks really
comfortable" Christmas jumper, ‘Satan’s Girlfriend’, as Richie called the self scan alert; making people turn to look at Richie.
'Please place your item in the bagging area.' The voice said, and Richie groaned in annoyance.
"It's in the fucking bagging area!" Richie shouted at the self-scanner gaining him some strange looks from confused shoppers. Some glaring at him for his language.
"Do you need any help?" A quiet, timid voice said from behind him. Richie just nodded in annoyance, not even bothering to turn around and look the shop assistant in the eye.
Richie groaned, “Uh, yeah. This machine has got a major case of dumb bitch disease. It doesn’t even realise my shit is in the bagging area.” He complained, still slamming the Christmas jumper onto the bagging area repeatedly.
"Wait,” the shop assistant said, obviously a little startled by Richie’s aggressive nature. “let me help you out." The man said, and Richie turned around to face him.
And holy shit, was he cute.
Richie grinned, “Can I put you in the bagging area? Or somewhere else, if you’d like?”
The man (or angel, as Richie had just decided) only scoffed, before swiping his badge onto the self scan checkout.
He looked back up at Richie, “There, all sorted.” He said, looking down at Richie’s shopping. “tell me if-“
He paused suddenly. Richie seemed to notice a distraction so he filled the gap, “what’s the matter? Am I too beautiful to handle?”
The man glared at Richie, but it was obvious he was surpressing a smile, “seriously?” He started. “You’re buying that?” He finished, pointing at the ugly and ridiculous Christmas jumper.
Richie, for the first time ever, was lost for words.
"You know, you’re the first person I've seen buying that Christmas jumper." The shop assistant continued. “It’s the ugliest shit I’ve ever seen.”
Richie panicked and tried to think of millions of excuses, before attempting to hide his burning red cheeks and stumbling out a weak, "What?”
The shop assistant pointed down at the Christmas jumper Caspar was now stuffing into his plastic bag. "They aren't very popular, you obviously like the more...different kind of styles."
Richie shrugged, regaining his posture, "It's for my mum." He lied. "She always likes ones like the ugly ones. Makes her feel more christmassy. Do you seriously think I’d put a jumper like that, on a body like this?” He asked, jokingly running a hand on his hip.
Yes, I would, Richie thought.
The shop assistant didn’t respond, and looked slightly flustered at Richie’s action and words.
“Anyways,” Richie started. “What’s your name then, sweet cheeks?”
“Don’t call me that.” The shop assistant quickly responded. “And it’s Eddie.” He smiled.
Richie grinned in return, “Well, Ed’s, I think you’d look pretty damn cute in one of these jumpers. You’d make it work.” He commented.
“Don’t call me that either,” Eddie snapped again. “And-“
Before Eddie could finish his sentence, another one of the self scan machines went off. Eddie flashed him an apologetic grin before quickly jogging over to fix the problem.
Richie, in a moment of quick panic, payed with his contactless card and started for the exits. He felt like he was going to pass out, but, in a good way he convinced himself. Cuteness overload maybe, he thought.
He felt damn stupid walking away, but he knew he’d see him again, he’d make sure of it. But he’d be more prepared.
-
It was now Christmas Eve and Richie, like planned, was alone. He was frantically cleaning his apartment preparing for Christmas Day, even though nobody was coming over.
"Oh crap," He mumbled to himself. "I haven't brought any lunch."
He rumaged through his cupboards hoping there would be something to eat in there, anything at all. The truth was, if there was nothing in there, then he'd have to go to Morrisons. There were no restaurants or other places where he could get food nearby by walking distance.
He could have punched someone when he realised he had to go to Morrisons. Not because he hates it there, because he might bump into Eddie again. And he was terrified, he's been thinking about him since that day in the Morrisons with the self-scanner.
He was halfway to Morrisons, remembering what had happened. Firstly he ran out the store, and ran straight into the revolving doors straight after the automatic doors. He ate his chocolate bar on the way home out of worry from just meeting Eddie, and for the jumper, he was wearing it right now.
Fucking hell, he thought. He was wearing the Christmas jumper right now. In plain sight, without a coat or anything. He was too lazy to go back and get his coat or change, and not to mention absolutely starving.
There was a chance he could bump into Eddie, and he's probably going to laugh at him for his stupid Christmas jumper. And be angry at him for lying and never ever want to see him again or even breathe the same air and oh no...he was fucked.
After a few moments of waiting outside Morrisons car park planning what to do, he finally decided to turn on his ninja mode and successfully get a sandwich and bag of crisps and pay for them without being spotted by Eddie.
He put his plan into action, by firstly sprinting to the other end of the store to where all the sandwhiches were. Possibly knocking a few things down in the process, but he considered it collateral damage.
He grabbed a chicken sandwhich, and walked over to the crisps. Grabbing a packet of Salt and Vinegar, his plan seemed be turning out very successful.
Paying for it was the hard bit, because that's where Eddie was.
Cute cute cute Eddie. Who made Richie nervous in a good way. Who Richie had chickened out and walked away from in a moment of gay panic.
Richie did some kind of run-jogging thing over to the tills and placed his items down.
Eddie, to Richie’s luck, was at the self scanners. This was his best bet.
"I'm sorry sir, you need ten or more items to use the tills. Can you please take your items to the self-scanner?"
Okay so now this was his worst bet.
He nodded in defeat, and grabbed his food and tried to go over without being spotted. He placed his items down and scanned the crisps, when suddenly the lady blasted out again with the 'place your items in the bagging area.'
"Oh...shh up! I'll pay you extra money if you just be quiet-"
"Hey.” A voice said behind him. It was Eddie, of course it was.
Richie tried not to turn his body around so he wouldn't see his jumper, and he attempted to get out of this.
"Don’t worry, everything is fine. Go back to your scanning shit or whatever!” He almost begged.
Richie, still trying to scan his sandwich hopelessly trying to get out of this, looked like a mad man. It wasn't working affectively because he couldn't see what he was doing, and his hand was shaking. He was sure he hit someone. He couldn't think of any excuses, "I’m not who you think I am.”
"What are you talking about?" Eddie asked with a sigh. “If you need help-“
“No I’m fine.” Richie cut him off.
‘Item not detected’ the lady rang out again.
Eddie huffed loudly, "For Gods sakes, if you don't want to talk to me just say. But at least let me help you so the machine can shut up.”
Richie shook his head, "It's not that." He breathed out. "I'm bisexual and I saw you yesterday and I nearly passed out because you were so hot and nice and stuff.” He glanced up to see Eddie looking at him intently.
“So I ran because I was scared because I've been alone for a while and now I'm here and I'm trying to get away from you because I'm in that ugly Christmas jumper that‘s actually super comfortable but embarrassing.” Richie blurted.
Eddie nodded, a small smile on his lips, “so it’s not for your mum?” He questioned. Richie just shook his head.
He giggled, which Richie almost passed out again at, "I thought you hated me. Now turn around, I want to see you with this Christmas jumper on."
Richie nodded, "Okay." He turned around and Eddie burst out laughing. Richie decided it was his favourite sound.
"I have to be honest, it really suits you." He said muffled by laughter.
"Are you trying to say that I'm ugly?" Richie playfully joked, and Eddie looked up at him.
"No, quite the opposite, actually." Eddie commented. “I never asked your name.”
“Richie,” he breathed out. “Richie Tozier.”
At that moment, a lady in the line for the self-scanner spoke up, "excuse me, you are kind of holding up the que." she said politely.
They both nodded and apologised before Richie paid the money, and took his sandwich and crisps.
"But surely you knew I was going to be here." Eddie told him as they walked a respectable distance from the self-scanners. "So why wear the Christmas jumper? If you said it was for your mum after all.”
Richie shrugged, "I was cleaning my apartment and I decided to be more festive so I put on some Christmas music and my jumper. I then discovered I actually didn't have any thing to eat, and I wouldn't admit it but I really wanted to see you again even though I was worried and...yeah I forgot I was wearing it."
Eddie laughed, "Okay, how's this. I take you out on a date tonight. But one rule, you don't wear the Christmas jumper on our date. I promise I won't wear my ugly Christmas jumper." He giggled.
Richie took his hand to shake, but he didn't let go afterwards, "Yeah,” He agreed. “Sounds groovy.”
Eddie almost groaned, “don’t say groovy.”
Richie only winked in return, “the Christmas jumper won't be the only thing I won't be wearing."
36 notes · View notes